Why worry about cloning when its

effects are already among us?

The newsweeklies, of course,

replicate each other's cover

stories all the time - though

surely they would admit this

week provided especially

fulsome commentary on the

phenomenon. And in fashion,

well, don't get us started:

Whether it's another celebrities

wearing that new Prada coat, or

another slick cover shot of that

weird Calvin Klein tube top thingy

(Elle proclaimed it "the essence

of the season"), we feel so

inundated by sameness it's hard

to lift the lattes to our lips.

Despite all claims regarding

"narrowcasting," it's unusual to

see new magazines that have a

prayer of individuating their

way out of a wet paper bag. For

a brief moment, it seemed Mode

might manage to distinguish

itself from the pack, arriving

as it did with a proclamation it

would offer "Style Beyond Size"

to larger-than-waif-sized women.

Whatever were we thinking? From

the "between us girls" editorial

to the fashion tips ("tonal

layering has a slimming effect";

"try wearing a bold watch"),

Mode is but another thoroughly

corrupt chip off the beauty-myth

block. Aldous Huxley had it

almost right: it's a fashion

slave new world.

In the glory days of rock and

roll, musicians were feckless

pawns who churned out hits and

got burned by record company

suits. Now, as Colonel Tom

Parker gives way to the more

benevolent figures of

Dreamworks' messrs. S, K, and G,

the artists get stinking rich,

and Fred Goodman isn't happy

about it. In his book The

Mansion on the Hill, Goodman is

shocked, shocked at the way

grubstakers like David Geffen,

Jon Landau, and Albert Grossman

turned pop music into big

business. It's a page-turner of

a book, but its real stroke of

genius comes in the

introduction, when Goodman cops

to finding Landau a more

fascinating figure than his

client Bruce Springsteen. In one

bold step, Goodman crosses the

line toward recognizing the true

Legends of Rock: not the

bloated, OD'ing stars, but the

toxic little schnorrers who

fatten them up for the

self-slaughter. As agent and

promoter chic catches on, we can

look forward to zines that swoon

over Marion "Suge" Knight and

Jerry "The Geater" Blavat.

He earns millions for his

screenplays. He sleeps naked

with his window open, and never

wears underwear. With each

passing day, he looks a little

bit more like Charles Bukowski

in a Mae West wig. He's Joe

Eszterhas, and on March 11 he

will answer all your intimate

questions on E! Here's our top

five:

Even guardian angels are being

updated for the digital age. AP

reported that Tokyo researchers

have found a valuable new

approach to keeping track of the

elderly. Apparently Japan's

aging population is showing

signs of widespread senility,

and the Japanese face a growing

and increasingly mobile senior

class. Using satellites, the

Tochigi Prefectural Technology

Center will develop pocket

transmitters and global

positioning systems to locate

and track seniors who seem to be

wandering off to meet their

maker in epidemic numbers.

Heaven can wait, government

officials seem to be saying. But

we'll hold your position until

your number is called.