Paramount has just given the First! Official! Sneak Peek! At The New Enterpise! to Moviefone, a monumental event sure to induce a not-completely-unpleasant combination of heart palpitations and premature flesh-phaser-fire in Trekkies everywhere.

Who could have anticipated the Pandora's Brand Can o' Worms we'd be opening with our Katie Holmes NY marathon conspiracy coverage over the past few days? We asked questions, you had answers. You also had more questions, about mysterious men in photos and identical split times. We started to realize this was bigger than all of us. Or maybe it wasn't. We were cold. We were scared. We met a guy named Deep Socks. Eventually, we hit The Wall, but The Truth gave us our second wind. A round-up of the latest:

· Fox 411's Roger Friedman claims to have solved the mystery: Foxy Mossad Agent #6074 as commenters have dubbed him, is none other than personal trainer and aspiring actor Wesley Okerson—not Israeli, but in fact a Marylander living in Beverly Hills. Mary Okerson, Wes's mother, says he and mysterious identical split-timer Paul Vincent are Katie's trainers. She did, in fact, run the marathon, says Wes's mom! Mystery solved! (Also: Okerson was a guest of the Cruises' at the Lions for Lambs premiere.) [Fox 411]

Los Angeles-based Withoutabox, a membership site which allows independent filmmakers to submit their work to movie festivals, has been acquired by Amazon.com subsidiary IMDB, the company told customers in an email today. David Straus and Joe Neulight founded the company in 2000 and saw it become popular among film-school students and film-festival producers. A niche audience, to be sure: Compete.com puts the site's "people count" in December 2007 at 22,888. But we suspect that Amazon bought the site not for its eyeballs, but for content it can sell directly to its huge audience of shoppers, bypassing Hollywood. Straight from Withoutabox to Amazon Unbox, in other words. Anyone know how much Amazon paid?

Defamer's favorite defender of feminism/nicotine addict, Katherine Heigl, is making the rounds on the talk show circuit to ostensibly pump up the enthusiasm levels for her new rom-com, 27 Dresses. However, she spent most of her time on The Late Show last night emasculating her husband of two weeks, Josh "Katherine Calls Me Joshua" Kelley. That is, when she wasn't readily admitting that she wouldn't stoop to the level of actually paying to go see her own movie.

This is exactly why even a whispered mention of The Singing Competition That Shall Not Be Named triggers an instant pants-soiling reflex in rival network executives: After only two airings of American Idol, a largely hit-deficient Fox has already taken possession of first place in the current TV season, a lead they are unlikely to relinquish as Idol runs roughshod over its competitors' strike-hampered primetime schedules. [TVWeek.com]

FamousPeopleGettingFreeShitWatch: At something called "swag suites" at Sundance, Jack Black and Josh Harnett (and other similarly recognizable actors) may receive expensive electronics gadgets and fashion accessories at no cost! (Save having their names attached to the reception of the aforementioned items.) Meanwhile, back in Hollywood, recent Golden Globes winner Jeremy Piven plans to re-gift some black sequined dresses to alleged crush-object Dita von Teese, a flirtation that may be ruined by the revelation Piven didn't have to pay for his suddenly not-so-generous-seeming come-on. Stuff: Celebrities don't have to pay for it! [Page Six, Page Six]

Celebrity wife-killer O.J. Simpson spent the last five days in jail, the result of having left threatening, profanity-laced messages for the co-defendants in his Vegas hotel room armed shit-reclamation case. Clark County Judge Jackie Glass was not amused:

Pausing ever so briefly from the important work of culling tone-deaf attention-whores and those mentally unbalanced enough to believe their cruel co-workers are sincere when they say, "You should totally try out for American Idol, Billy! We love the way you rock out to 'It's Raining Men' in your cubicle every day! Make sure you bring your stapler 'microphone,' Simon Cowell will get a kick out of that," from the show's cattle-call population, last night's installment took some time to present the moving story of Never Been Kissed Bruce, a 19-year-old virgin who has yet to experience the pleasures of a woman's touch. Bruce was, perhaps not unsurprisingly, chaperoned by his not-at-all overprotective father, the curator of the heart-lock necklace into which his son will place his throbbing key pendant whenever he meets a lady of acceptable moral fiber.

Despite a rearguard effort by a few crusty old editors, the newspapers haven't been able to resist the popular fascination with female celebrities who have it all (ah, aspirational!) and then throw it away in a binge of alcohol, drugs and cheap publicity (ah, such delightful schadenfreude!). Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears — playing the roles of fallen heiress, soused actress and white-trash pop star — have vied with eachother for media attention since they crossed over to the mainstream in 2003. As this chart shows, Paris Hilton was the first to break out into the supposedly serious media, in November 2003, when a private sex tape taken by her boyfriend hit the internet. Lindsay Lohan dominated 2005 with her eating disorder, but managed to get some attention for a movie, Just My Luck. This year's been the most competitive by far, with each of the three girls competing with DUI charges, jail terms, and breakdowns. And any squeamishness at newspapers and news weeklies has been overwhelmed by their need to remain competitive: they may disguise a gossip item in a worthy feature on teen alcoholism, but celebrity gossip is now all pervasive.

Looking for the Tom Cruise Scientology videos? We've got 'em. Here's the Scientology indoctrination video that got started it all ("I won't hesitate to put ethics on someone else"), here's the highlight reel and here's the clip of how Tom Cruise saved America after 9/11. Phooot!

· We have to admit that, up to this point, we haven't been regular watchers of BET's Hell Date. That's all about to change.
· Remember when we said yesterday that we were totally going to buy the new issue of GQ because Rachel Bilson is on the cover? Well, we lied. Egotastic has got the pictures. Frankly, we were hoping for more.
· Our favorite Olsen, Ashley, made out with our least favorite Leto, Jared.
· Absolut Vagina! Probably better than Absolut Kurant.
· Enjoy this complete retrospective of Amy Winehouse's hair.
· I'll Say I'm Sorry, But I'm Not Taking Off My Glasses: The T-Shirt [via Gorilla Mask]
· And you thought Kirk Douglas looked old?

Right off the bat, let's get something straight. We are ALL for pre-marital sex. In fact, if pre-marital sex didn't exist, well ... we don't even want to think about a world where pre-marital sex doesn't exist. But really (and we ask this out of curiousity more than anything else), does anyone else find Hollywood's recent spate of high profile out-of-wedlock baby announcements the least bit peculiar? We know the WGA strike has freed up a lot of time for a lot of us, but that doesn't explain why notoriously toxic bachelors like David Spade and Matthew McConaughey decided to throw caution (and their condoms) to the wind. So then, what can we attribute this (sorta joyous!) news to? As with most of ills permeating our society these days, we're gonna place the blame squarely on the shoulders of Juno.

Remember Brenda Dickson? I don't! But the soap opera star, whose 1987 self-made video "Welcome To My Home" (featuring Brenda in various outfits showing off her crib) got passed around YouTube a year ago, is back with another. It's less satisfying but no less creepy/pathetic/adorable, as Brenda talks over photos of herself in different outfits before cutting to her documentary on The Young and the Restless. Below is the older video; the new one is on her personal site. "Hi I'm Brenda Dickson," she begins. "Ahhh, this couch is so comfortable," she says before reliving her heyday with poorly sampled TV clips.

When it comes to the Katie Holmes NY Marathon conspiracy, we realize we've thrown quite a bit at you over the past couple of days, but the single most damning piece of evidence had yet to land in our inbox. A tipster we'll call Deep Socks suggested we go to the official Marathon website and look up the split times, registered by every runner via computer chip (we're learning so much more about marathon culture than our lazy asses ever imagined possible!), of a runner named Paul Vincent:

We regret to inform some of you (and are thrilled to inform some others) that a stunning reversal of romantic fortunes has befallen Oscar-jilted comedy superstar Eddie Murphy: A mere two weeks after what by all accounts was said to be the tropical fairy tale wedding to end all tropical fairy tale weddings, the Shrek Goes Fourth star (yes, it's coming, don't even try to escape) has announced that his legally-binding-only-in-Bora Bora marriage to girlfriend Tracey Edmonds has already come to an end:

· Music round-up: David Garza at Largo; American Music Club at Taix's 321 Lounge; Simple Plan at the Troubadour.
· Investigative journalists Douglas Frantz and Catherine Collins sign and discuss The Nuclear Jihadist: The True Story of the Man Who Sold the World's Most Dangerous Secrets...And How We Could Have Stopped Him at Vroman's, an event that should prove a light-hearted look at seemingly inevitable armageddon.
· Over at UCLA's Magowan Hall Little Theatre, up-and-coming humorist David Sedaris will workshop material for his new book in front of a live audience, rather than in the pages of The New Yorker.

As the early episodes of each American Idol season are nothing more than the televised, cattle-call slaughter of talentless attention-seekers anxious for twenty seconds of screen time (in a new twist, a jaded Simon Cowell has taken to dispatching the deranged and tone-deaf with a blast of an Anton Chigurh-style pneumatic cow-pulverizer before they even finish their first, off-key verse), there's hardly a shortage of material for "Look At How Crazy This Guy Was!" clips.

Last night, we were able to pry Intrepid™ Defamer videographer Molly McAleer away from "American Idol" long enough to cover the release of Feral House's new book, Hollywood's Hellfire Club. Held at the legendary Silent Movie Theater, the event featured a virtual treasure trove of Bundy Drive Boys memorabilia from Hollywood's golden days of yore. Of all the pieces on display, we found ourselves most bowled over by John Decker's notorious Barrymore Death Bed Sketch. Our snazzily scored video has got that picture and much, much more.

The San Diego County Medical Examiner's Office has finally revealed what killed abusive music legend Ike Turner; please hold all "coke is it!" and "cocaine is a hell of a drug" jokes until the end of the statement: "'We are listing that he abused cocaine, and that's what resulted in the cocaine toxicity,' said Paul Parker, chief investigator at the medical examiner's office.The medical examiner's office also lists hypertensive cardiovascular disease and pulmonary emphysema as 'significant and contributing factors' to Turner's death.'" Those who had taken the "TOO MUCH BLOW" square in their Ike Turner Toxicology Report Pool are now officially eligible to collect their winnings from those who went with the "divine retribution" long-shot. [NBC San Diego.com]

We invite you to feast your eyes on the first known photo of Clay Aiken in his Spamalot costume, as he steps into the role of Sir Robin vacated by soft-outed Frasier star David Hyde Pierce. (That's for the razzle dazzle number. His knight's costume will look something like this.) Let the commenting wisecrack orgy begin! [Towleroad]