There is a baby — a celebrity baby — that apparently nobody can refrain from talking about, speculating upon, offering conjecture, remarking on the photo’s authenticity (or lack thereof), gauging the baby’s patrilineage, the like.

This is all very nice. And it has all probably sold a good deal of magazines and provided a lot of water cooler conversation. If this gets you through a rough day, I can understand. If contemplating upon this baby’s provenance is what you need to prevent yourself from applying a mace to your boss’s skull, that’s okay. I’d rather see you engage in tawdry gossip over violence.

But I plan to boycott the baby. There are approximately six billion things in the universe that are more important.

I beseech you for the sake of humanity to do the same.