It's not easy living in Taradise

Tara wants to know why we ink-stained types have it out for her. (We told you it's our fault, right?)

Drawing on all those 10th-grade algebra skills, I think I've worked out an approximate equation:

[Gratuitous reports of public drunkenness * getting a basic-cable show with the sole purpose of highlighting your partying ways] + inadvertent (we assume) revealing of private body parts in a very public forum + [on-the-record comments using "hooters" and "tape" in the same sentence ^ Z-grade movie career] = guarantee for great copy.

In other words, it's not that anyone has it out for Tara. It's that she keeps throwing more coal into the firebox of the locomotive that pulls her gossip train.

The Tara comment that really caught our eye was: "Listen, if I could get good movies, you would never see me going out. But when there's nothing to do, what am I supposed to do, just sit in my house and go crazy?"

A few humble suggestions: charity work; casting calls for better TV shows than "Taradise"; the occasional Pilates class; a modest shopping trip to your brother's store; a nice long hike (we mean that literally); the occasional quiet dinner, sans table dancing; sailing, sans the beer cooler; road trips (also sans beer cooler); shooting your own digital-video documentary (and no, an existential consideration of body-shot techniques across the nation is not an acceptable topic).

Not sure we understand the insistence that one's partying ways can be chalked up to a lack of screen-gem roles. Do really great roles consume so much more free time than lousy ones?  Does Robert Altman keep you on set so many hours longer than "American Pie's" Paul Weitz?

We don't want to sound too bold here, or to underestimate Hollywood cruelty, but is it possible that Tara's lack of A-list roles is attributable to perhaps, say, her dramatic range being overshadowed by a perennial reputation as a good-time girl?

Stupid is as stupid does
Because if there's any lesson to draw from Paris Hilton, it's that Americans can forgive one episode of abject humiliation — an intimate video being downloaded around the globe, say — if you prove to be a good sport and retrofit your image.  Paris is no model of restraint, but when she recently broke off her long-fading engagement, she did it with tact.

Tara shows little interest in emulating this mold. She talks about love and marriage in one breath, then angrily defends her partying ways in the next. Only the Brits seem willing to honestly embrace Tara's two-faced approach, perhaps as some sort of revenge for our obsession with Diana.

To make it worse, Tara felt the need to poke a fork at Paris, saying she'd never be "stupid enough" to make a sex tape. We can't deny that exposing oneself in front of a barrage of red-carpet photographers does indeed have far more impact than a boyfriend's piddling camcorder. But we wouldn't be so quick to pin the "stupid" tail.

Reid says she thought "Taradise" would benefit her image: "I wanted to show the whole world the truth — I'm fun."  Instead, she blamed the show's editing for making her look like "a total party-girl drug retard." (Always with the retards.)

While it's quite possible we were denied stellar footage of Tara exploring the ruins at Kition or visiting the Musée National de Monaco, the more likely explanation is that cameras accurately portrayed Reid's European vacation: beaches, clubs, gut-busting dinners, more clubs, attempted scamming on Eurohunks, more clubs and a helicopter ride.

In the interest of détente, we've compiled few suggestions that might help elevate our opinion of Tara:

(1) Hooray, responsibility! If we're to believe the party-girl image is just a fabrication, then prove it. Engage in some fun daytime activities without looking hungover. Let us catch you drinking bottled water with lunch. Stay out of the clubs for a while.

(2) Modesty is such a lonely word. It wasn't just the nipple slip that caused a ruckus, it was Tara's reported state of stupor when it happened. (It took a friendly flack to finally right Reid's dress.)  Assume that the world is watching when you're on the carpet, because it is.  You don't have to act like an automaton (Katie Holmes seems to have cornered that market) but it's a small hop from vibrant and quirky to loudmouthed crackpot.

(3) Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. You can't do a reality show designed to profile celebrities getting crazy and then blame bad editing for how it made you look.  If "Wild on Tara" — sorry, "Taradise" — was intended as an image overhaul, you need to fire your agent.  (VH1's "Surreal Life" won't help either, unless you're Peter Brady.)  If you really hate where your career is headed, do some voiceovers. Try summer stock. Find a life coach. Adopt an African orphan. (Wait, don't do that.)

Because really, it's not our fault. Not entirely, anyway.

MSNBC.com lifestyle editor Jon Bonné wonders what Robert Altman makes of all this.

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