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Apparently today is the day of the beast. It's hard to get too worked up about it — in our world, every day is beastly (we are not an unhairy people, after all), and we've had many a personal apocalypse.

But then we started thinking about it, and much of our daily reading seems to be touched by the hand of Satan. It started as soon as we got up, with that freakish Ann Coulter interview. But then it just continued. Liz Smith devoted her entire column to how she'd like to give Anna Wintour and Julia Roberts medals for being so great. The garbage in Chelsea is literally brimming with shit. Pale Male just up and moves. The cost of copyrighting your stuff increases by 50%. Julia Stiles' pancake face hits the big screen again. Glamour editor Denise Gordon actually rescheduled her C-Section for tomorrow (it's a wonder that one can go to the bathroom by herself, really). It's the anniversary of D-Day. Scientologists have a NASCAR team. And, to top it all off, Anderson Cooper will not allow any press at his book-signing tonight.

Pure evil everywhere.