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Prepare yourselves for an existential crisis that will likely result in the selling of all of your belongings and an immediate relocation to an ashram in Tibet to contemplate your place in a suddenly meaningless world. In the UK publication The Sun, paradigmatic celebutard Paris Hilton upends everything you thought you knew about Paris Hilton. Here it comes, get ready for it...bam:

"Simple Life is a reality show and people might assume it's real. But it's fake.

"All reality shows are fake basically. When you have a camera on you, you are not going to act yourself.

"So before I started the show I thought I'd make a character like the movies Legally Blonde and Clueless mixed together, with a rich girl all-in-one.

"Even my voice is different and the way I dress is different from me in real life. It's a character I like to play. I think it's carefree and happy. The public think they know me but they really don't."

Once again for emphasis, because a reality realignment this profound bears at least a second intonation: You think you know Paris Hilton, but you really don't. The society-destabilizing TV show, the vacant stare fixed on a mysterious pricey object somewhere in the distance, the little girl voice that seems a clear indicator of arrested development brought on by severe childhood trauma: All. Fake. We must now excuse ourselves for a short time to work our way through this waking nightmare of utter nullity, in which we lunge forward in one last, desperate embrace of what we thought to be Hilton, watch in horror as the non-being in our grasp collapses into a pile of almost imperceptibly smoking Swarovski crystals, and listen to the far off, ethereal cackles of the Actual Paris who has so thoroughly and cruelly denied us the knowledge of her true nature.