There's been a lot of press recently (and okay, not so recently) about the deluge of the nouveau-razzi; those underage shutterbugs that freelance for Star and Esquire, berating their subjects and telling them to go eat a sandwich.

But with the rise of photo sites like Last Night's Party and Cobrasnake, as well as the recent profiles of the paparazzi themselves, the once faceless mob is now entering its own era in the spotlight. Suffice to say, once Adrien Grenier makes a documentary about you, you're officially your own subgenre of alt-celebrity. At heart though, still just terrible:

The National Enquirer maintains a sense bare-bones legitimacy by occasionally breaking a true story or two, but at heart is the same rag that "uses methods scorned by the mainstream media—rifling through trash cans, stalking subjects and, most of all, paying for information."

Not the highest of journalistic standards, but has anything really changed since the days of Ron Galella stalking Jackie O. and Marlon Brando? It's almost as if the tabloid standards stay the course, and only celebrities themselves have gotten trashier/the wiser; learning how to work with paps to release "exclusive" stories for financial benefit. Think of how much money certain A-list mommies made by selling their baby pics to the highest bidding tabloid.

And while celebrities are lowering themselves to gossip tabloids standards, Enquirer's David Perel and ex-Star exec Bonnie Fuller get pieces in The Huffington Post these days, which means that even if you don't agree with their tactics, these editors are getting an air of integrity without having to change their business practice. TMZ and gossip blogs may have changed how the playing field looks, but the operation remains the same: sex sells, and celebrity sex sells harder.

The market may change, but the desire to see a famous person's nip-slip or illegitimate child never will.