(Originally ran Feb. 8)

I started this job in 1997, which seems a world away now.

Consider: No Pitchfork. No iPod. No e-mail, even. I didn’t own a cell phone or a computer. Internet access was limited to a couple of PCs in a corner of the Tribune newsroom.

As far as I knew then, MP3 was two consonants and an Arabic numeral. Nothing more.

Filing concert reviews from the Trib’s primitive laptops was a wild ride through dial-up hell.

I still had to answer my phone.

There were some real positives, though. No “American Idol.” No Britney Spears. No Perez Hilton.

In general, the celebrity obsession that dominates entertainment was, at best, bubbling under.

To be sure, there’s been celebrity gossip as long as there have been celebrities. But the digital age has amped it up considerably.

How many “entertainment” TV programs, Web sites and cable channels are there these days? And how many of them ever talk about the music or the movies or the TV shows they purport to cover?

It’s way beyond who’s dating who. It’s who’s suing who. Who’s having whose baby. Who were they partying with the night of the overdose/suicide attempt/DUI.

Because for all the celebrity worship that goes on, interest really goes up when one of them falls. And the harder the better. The switch from genuflection to back stabbing is immediate.

I don’t like Spears’ music but she’s a human being, and whatever is going on with her right now isn’t funny. It’s also none of my business. Or yours, assuming your last name isn’t Spears.

Check the comments readers leave on Web stories about a celebrity who goes into rehab, gets arrested or even dies. They contain some of the most vile, mean-spirited garbage you’ll ever read.

The Web offers immediacy and anonymity. Does it have to be at the cost of humanity?