Across the pond, the Guardian UK has posted a lengthy article (with rather extraordinary yet, ultimately, largely commonsensical analysis) concerning the public nature of the relationship between the world’s most famous couple, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, as well as the fictional influence of that ubiquitous third wheel known as “Jennifer Aniston.” The article’s rather appropriately phrased title just happens to be “The Brangelina Industry,” and the most relevant portions are quoted below:

{N]owhere does the rollercoaster lurch more rapidly than in the narrative of the Aniston/Pitt/Jolie love triangle, now entering its sixth year – an astonishingly long time in the fast-turnover world of the weeklies. Even the verifiable facts about the three, the ones we can all agree on, seem too good to be true. A personable, blonde, all-American girl next door, cherished for her role in Friends, marries the leading heartthrob of his generation, who leaves her for a mercurial, almost freakishly beautiful star whom he meets on a movie set. He adopts her two children, they adopt one more, and have three of their own, including a pair of predictably perfect twins. Their expanding family – effortlessly combined with their humanitarian work – stands in perpetual affront to the all-American blonde, who makes no secret of her desire to have children, but instead bounces from one unsuccessful liaison to another, happiness always just out of reach.

But the verifiable facts will only take you so far. Fuelled by panic over falling magazine circulations, the challenges posed by blogs and a desensitised readership hungry for authentic emotion, the storyline of Brad, Angelina and Jennifer has achieved escape velocity. It seems, somehow, to exist independently of its real-life protagonists, even as it draws on the facts of their lives.

. . . .

Editorial meetings at celebrity magazines, therefore, may not always resemble those elsewhere. “You build the story around an emotion,” says a celebrity weekly editor, who spoke on condition of anonymity. “What’s happening with poor Jen this week? Well, John Mayer’s seeing someone else, and for a woman of her age, that must be awful … So you construct a narrative of what a woman her age may be feeling,” Stories may start with nothing more than a set of photographs: Aniston looking happy, or sad – or happy one moment and sad the next, since if you take multiple shots of anyone, with a fast shutter speed, you can capture a range of expressions. “The question is: how can we construct a story around a set of emotions that our readers are going to relate to? It can come from a genuine tip, or a photo. Or it can come out of our ass.” [Emphasis added.]

Presumably, the Jolie-Pitt-Aniston triangle mostly appeals to the tabloids because, unlike Reese Witherspoon and Kate Winslett, this love triangle actually sells magazines. In fact, for six years, the Jolie/Pitt/Aniston so-called “love triangle” shows no signs of slowing the public’s interest. Oddly, however, the marketable nature of the scandalous trio is only subject to a mere seven permutations:

There are only really seven Brad/Jen/Angelina stories, endlessly recycled: Brad and Angelina in love; Brad and Angelina obtaining more children/ Brad secretly meeting or texting Jen; Angelina’s fury at Brad for meeting or texting Jen; Angelina looking dangerously thin (“scary skinny”); Jen in love; Jen alone again. “You develop the narrative because you know it sells,” the editor says. “And because selling is everything, you have to come up with the next chapter. But things don’t move on that quickly.”

Ha. Although I do inquire regularly, I’ve yet to personally know anyone who will admit to buying this absolute garbage. Still, someone must buy this crap for the collective tabloids to find this fiction worthwhile. Seriously, this Guardian UK article is a rather hilarious (if slightly sobering) take on our contemporary pop culture obsessions, so read the entirety of the article and, if the urge moves you, check out the illustrative tabloid cover gallery as well.