Admittedly, we're not finance wizards, but if Michael Jackson refinanced a $300 million loan to loosen up $25 million in cash to pay a $20 million legal debt, doesn't that still put him at negative $300 million? And that's not even including mouth-reinflation fees! [foxnews.com]

Answer: We don't know! Like the rest of you, we've read that Brit Brit was "under the influence of an unknown substance" when the EMTs arrived at her supersized double-wide last eve (they must've convinced her that the van with the flashing lights in her driveway was really a hydrogen-powered shuttlebus to Les Deux). And, just like the rest of you, we're wildly curious to find out more deets about the cornocopia of pharms that were racing through her bloodstream. Our hasty diagnosis, after the jump.

Bolting upright in bed after being tormented by nightmares induced by having to watch as much breaking news footage of last night's Unfortunate Britney Spears Incident as her tragedy-addled mind could handle, Defamer videographer Molly McAleer finally gave up on an unavoidably fitful sleep, deciding that the best way to deal with this difficult time was to retreat to the safety of her flickering computer screen. The above mash-up represents poor Molly's attempt at exorcising her demons by sharing with the world the series of dream-despoiling images—featuring Spears in potentially life-threatening situations both fanciful and all too real (where, may we ask, was "Everytime" hero Stephen Dorff when Britney needed him most?)—that may still haunt her the rest of her days.

In probably the saddest single quote to emerge from the ongoing Britney drama, a source at Cedars-Sinai assigned to their "special needs" (i.e. OD or suicide attempt) patients explained, "So we got a call to go have someone sit with her. None of us wanted to go sit with her," going on to explain that while they'd have loved to console the alternately laughing and sobbing intake, they had a whole cabinet of Heparin that needed reorganizing. [Us]

For anyone with even a remotely legitimate interest in yesterday's historic Iowa caucus, we refer you to our Beltway brothers' coverage over at Wonkette. We, on the other hand, are purely fixated on how the celebrity factor figures into Barack Obama and Mike Huckabee being handed such landslide mandates for change from voters in the corn-shucking state. Huckabee's acceptance speech—capped by a funky improvisational jazz bass performance loosely inspired by the Barney Miller theme—was greeted by longtime kung-fu sparring companion Chuck Norris, hovering over his shoulder with the kind of warmly proud look one typically associates with future First Ladies. The Democratic side, meanwhile, benefited from a far bustier and less hirsute celebrity endorsement:

Britney Spears, as you may have heard, took a relaxing ambulance ride to Cedars Sinai Hospital last night, where some nice people in white coats are currently busy trying to douse the flames of her latest attempt at self-immolation. (Meanwhile, some not-so-nice people will be deciding how much time should pass it's safe for her to have a playdate with the children she has a hard time raising even between breakdowns.) Above, a helpful AP video can quickly orient you on the story, then quickly return you to a disoriented state with images of crazed paparazzi chasing Spears on her journey to the hospital. Below, a round-up of various outlets' attempts at parsing her mental state:

Oh, what the hell: Defamer videographer Molly McAleer was up to capture the live feed, we're up to blog it—and this Fox News helicopter cameraman's voice has become our new best friend, helpfully pointing out where one of the Van Halenses lives, then trenchantly observing, "Look at this....look- look- look- look at that. That is insanity!" upon witnessing the swarm of paparazzi trailing the ambulance containing a Britney Under the Influence. OK, we really need some sleep before the cops show up to make us give up our two kids—and we don't even have any!

Here's a riveting turn of events in the ongoing Spears-Federline custody saga that's all but certain to push the name Jamie Lynn to the tabloid sidelines for a minimum of two publishing cycles: The "Gimme More" singer's stubborn refusal to hand over her two children to K-Fed's custody led to a four-hour police showdown at her home tonight, requiring the presence of several squad cars, firetrucks, a helicopter and an ambulance—the last of which carted her off on a gurney to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. (Footage courtesy of myfoxla.com, accompanied by running commentary from a cameraman whose gripes of having to "follow this frickin' thing to the hospital" suggest he may not have been entirely aware his audio was being broadcast throughout the internets.)

When news broke yesterday that the moviegoers of this great nation of ours had voted Lindsay Lohan's dead-stripper turn in "I Know Who Killed (My Career)" as the single worst performance of Anno Domini 2007, our reaction was laced with both sadness and shock. Sadness because we all long for days when the frecklecrotched wonder's biggest problem was her slightly jiggly thighs, shock because we could think of no fewer than six and no greater than seven performances that were CLEARLY worse than Lindsay's. What follows, dear friends, is that list (in descending order, no less)!

Oh, happy day! Elisabeth Hasselbeck, The View's token right-wing punching bag, will on Monday return to the couch she was forced to abandon by the seemingly endless pregnancy that recently resulted in new son Jonathan Taylor Thomas. And she's bringing the kid to the show! And they're going to have an entire fucking hour of Hot Topics! And there will be a BIG TICKET ITEM GIVEAWAY! If Hasselbeck had been dragging the freshly delivered baby Jesus Himself into the studio for a televised playdate with Aunties Whoopi, Sherri, Barbara, and Joy, the show could hardly have prepared a more exciting celebration in His honor. [CNN.com]

Having been far too long since we've checked in with our Defamer PartyWatchers, photographer Maggie Serrano (sans trusty cohort Ann) braved the eardrum-blowing decibels of downtown's Hard New Year's Eve Music Festival, where she captured some of our city's most wasted spirited revelers ring in 2008 to the highly danceable grooves of French techno-duo Justice, Canadian electrofilthyclasher Peaches, and 2 Live Crew. Check out our image gallery of the festivities.

While we were otherwise occupied last night obsessively running a fine-tooth comb through every late-night-host's facial hair configuration, tapping out the contents on a stark white surface, and drawing our observations accordingly, we managed to miss a new Project Runway. Thanks to the modern age miracle of DVRs, however, and the no-less miraculous video-digesting talents of Molly McAleer, we were able to pretty much fill in the blanks:

· Music round-up: The Airborne Toxic Event at Spaceland; Patrick Park at the Hotel Café; Mezzanine Owls at Pershing Square's ice rink downtown.
· LACMA screens South Korean filmmaker Lee Chang-dong's Peppermint Candy, his "international breakthrough [that] traces the tumultuous journey of a detective haunted by his first love and the social turmoil around him." [via Flavorpill]
· Boldly promising that the political correctness that so often hampers a stand-up's ability to speak his mind inside a comedy club will be "thrown out the window," the Hollywood Improv presents the Ignorance is Bliss showcase, featuring Nick Thune, the Vince Vaughn-approved Bret Ernst, Sam Tripoli and others.

Having only recently recovered from the news that Dumbledore is gay, we've now stumbled upon yet another bombshell regarding a prominent wizard's membership in a frequently persecuted, Hollywood-running minority—for Harry Potter, it turns out, is Jewish:

Though WGA member Jay Leno seemed to think that writing his own monologue on last night's Tonight Show wasn't flouting the Guild's strike guidelines, the union this afternoon announced via this terse public statement that it had a little heart-to-heart with the host about the matter: "A discussion took place today between Jay Leno and the Writers Guild to clarify to him that writing for The Tonight Show constitutes a violation of the Guilds' strike rules."

Easily the biggest news that came out of Wednesday's mass return to the airwaves by late-night's long-sidelined talk-show hosts was the unexpected appearance of David Letterman and Conan O'Brien's competing Strike Beards, a solidarity-signifying facial hair trend so hot that the clean-shaven visages of Jay Leno and Jimmy Kimmel now seem to indicate a conspicuous lack of support for the hosts' still-picketing writing staffs. (The embattled Carson Daly, we've been told, plans to smash his trusty Norelco electric shaver on his next show in an attempt to prove his commitment to the WGA cause, no matter how unflattering the resulting patchy growth may be.)

How bad have things gotten for Aspen-based paparazzi? The town, long Hollywood's preferred mountain refuge from the bustle of L.A., is apparently been so drained of celebrity quarry that its once-proud guerrilla-photographer population has been forced to eke out a meager existence by stalking the likes of Goldie Hawn, who gripes, "They've come into our little town and they really have done their job: They've shooed us out." [Breitbart.com]

In a stunning Romcom Release-Date Push-Back Exclusive, usmagazine.com is reporting that Katherine Heigl's hotly unanticipated Knocked Up feature film follow-up, 27 Candles Dresses, will be opening on January 18, not January 11, as had been previously scheduled. A Fox "insider" offered a suspiciously sanguine, "The movie played so well at public sneak previews on December 27 that it was decided just last night to move it back a week to take advantage of the holiday weekend." Skeptics that we are when it comes to an anonymous studio flack's pom-pom waving, we're wondering if the extra week isn't instead for them to add some 11th hour footage of Heigl's head being blown off by an unseen, fire-belching beast, the better to position the film opposite Paramount's Godzilla-sized offering, Cloverfield. [usmagazine.com]

· Overcoming the apparently mild inconvenience of putting on shows without their striking writers, Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien still triumphed over fully staffed talk-show rivals David Letterman and Craig Ferguson in Wednesday night's Nielsen battle. In fairness to the WGA-approved programs, however, it should be noted that many viewers might have chosen to tune in to Leno out of irresistible curiosity about how unfunny the host would be on his own. [THR]
· Though the Golden Globes briefly harbored hope that the Writers Guild might give them a waiver for their rapidly approaching awards show, the WGA isn't going to cut them a break and still plans to picket. [Variety]