You just knew this was coming, right? Sooner or later you just knew that the sweet and hopelessly ignorant kid from the Alaskan tundra who just wanted to float aimlessly through life hunting, fishing, playing hockey and banging chicks, would have his life destroyed by the sudden fame that came with having knocked up the daughter of the most ridiculous American public figure in the history of ridiculous American public figures. So very sad.

Renata Espinosa of The Daily Beast went shopping recently with Levi and his newly hired manager/bodyguard, an Anchorage-based lawyer, in Los Angeles, where they were "fielding pitches" for acting and reality show gigs or something.

Besides acting as Levi's handler, Tank is his personal Tim Gunn and Henry Higgins all in one, instructing him on the subtleties of wearing a fedora and reminding him to be open-minded about the different types of people he might encounter. Tank is the ultimate 21st-century version of an American father: multicultural and media-savvy.

Like the time Levi appeared on The Tyra Banks Show, with his mother and sister, and had to get his hair and makeup done, Tank had to remind Levi to relax.

"That was the worst," Levi tells me. "I had some dude singing to me, the whole time. He was real happy. Calling me ‘baby' and all that. I kept my mouth shut."

"I told him, you're going to meet all different types of people," interjects Tank. "Don't overreact. Nobody's going to hurt you. You gotta be accepting of all different types of people. You're talking about dealing with Hollywood? You're going to really meet some strange people."

To help Levi morph into the epic tool he needs to become if he has any hope of making it in Hollywood, Tank came up with the "Ricky Hollywood" idea.

Just so you're clear, when Levi Johnston is in L.A. with Tank and running around shopping with a reporter, trying on sequined jackets and pink fedoras and wearing bedazzled T-shirts that say "Go Girl" on them, that's not Levi you're seeing.

"What we did was, we came up with an alter ego, Ricky Hollywood," explains Tank. "Ricky Hollywood would iron his shirt." Levi looks at Tank and raises his eyebrows. "Yeah, right!" he says. "OK, well, I'd iron it. He doesn't know how to iron."

"We're not going to find my style out here," says Levi rather contentiously.

"Oh, yes, we will," says Tank. "We're going to find Ricky's style!"

No!!!! Just let Levi be Levi dammit and wear his jeans and t-shirts and baseball caps! He's been through enough—Leave him alone!

When asked by Espinosa about the Palin/Letterman controversy, Levi said that he didn't "think that David was trying to advocate any sexual misconduct of any nature."

You see—Levi actually gets it and is probably the only normal player in the whole Palin clown show. Leave him alone!

Shopping With Levi Johnston [Daily Beast]

The previous record for single-year Oscar futility is shared by 1977's The Turning Point and 1985's The Color Purple, both of which went 0-for-11. More recently, Miramax failed to capitalize on a single one of Gangs of New York's 10 nominations in 2002 — an accomplishment hinting that the Academy can willingly defy even the most art-directed, costume-designed, massive-budget prestige exercises of their respective years. Be afraid, Paramount, and here's why:

· Best Picture and Director: If the Slumdog juggernaut were stoppable, Button would be the likeliest candidate to step on its spry urchin heels at the Oscar-night finish line. It's a hit, after all, and an Academy with any populist conscience after last year's glum-indie orgy would at least give it Picture. Where's the harm? Except in recent instances where that's happened — most notoriously with Crash's win in 2005 — the Picture bone-throw has favored indies. So maybe David Fincher gets Director? Probably not; Danny Boyle's got his own momentum from critics associations, guilds and Globes behind him. If the DGA nods Fincher's way on Jan. 31, then it may be a race. If it doesn't, forget it. 0-for-2

· Actor: We know we were among those steering the Brad Pitt bandwagon back in those early, glimmering autumn days before the Oscar Turnpike froze over with Rourke/Penn hype and our man went skidding into an uncool embankment. That's no reason to choose to burn to death in the ensuing fire. We're out, Brad — help is on the way. Next year. 0-for-3

· Best Supporting Actress: This is Penelope Cruz's award to lose, and anyway, Taraji P. Henson swears she was asleep when the nominations were announced. Oscar is not impressed. 0-for-4

· Best Adapted Screenplay: Eric Roth already won this one for the same film 14 years ago. The writers branch loves him, but it loves John Patrick Shanley (Doubt) and Simon Beaufoy (Slumdog Millionaire) — in that order — far more. Even David Hare (The Reader) would probably trump Roth on the lone basis of adapting a short book to a film under two hours. 0-for-5

· Best Cinematography and Editing: There's a faction among technicians who cream over the potential of what Fincher and shooter Claudio Miranda accomplished digitally both in camera and with the aid of their visual effects crew. The problem is that The Dark Knight's Wally Pfister and editor Lee Smith did more fitfully revolutionary work with IMAX, and TDK eventually has to win something, so... 0-for-7

· Best Score: It's nominated alongside WALL-E, for which the score essentially is vast swaths of the film and for which voters who were passionate enough to nominate it will be passionate enough to nudge it to a win. 0-for-8

· Best Visual Effects and Makeup: Button's likeliest and probably most deserving shots at wins, it still must contend with not only TDK's admittedly inferior technical achievements but the more formidable politics of snub-backlash. The bottom line is it's more of a coin toss than anyone probably wants to believe, and this late, any when-in-doubt scenario would seem to automatically favor The Dark Knight. 0-for 10

· Best Art Direction and Costume Design: As mentioned above, Gangs of New York proves that no craft category shall be taken for granted as a token for losses incurred elsewhere — especially not opposite an actual, accomplished period drama like The Duchess. 0-for-12

· Best Sound Mixing: At this point Button's already got the record, but why not go all the way with it — 0-for-13, sort of the Detroit Lions of the Oscars. Should Fincher's quartet win, here's hoping the technicians refuse their statuettes in a gutsy act of loser solidarity with their taskmaster director. It's the least they could do for history's sake, and that lone "Academy Award Winner - Best Sound Editing" sticker on the DVD would look stupid anyway.