But there’s one thing that Michael Jackson can’t do particularly well at the moment, and that’s breathe. According to one of his biographers, Michael Jackson suffers from a potentially fatal lung disorder that requires an emergency transplant before it kills or blinds him.

Hopefully that’s not true because, if he has his lungs replaced, the only parts of Michael Jackson to actually belong to Michael Jackson will be three strands of armpit hair and a fragment of toenail.

Ever since he was acquitted of child abuse, we’ve been inundated with stories about Michael Jackson’s comeback, but they’ve never materialised. The charity singles have never been made, the O2 residency never happened, nor did the Las Vegas revue, the Jackson 5 reunion, the collaboration with 50 Cent or the album of duets with the dead Pope.

And all the while Michael’s financial woes piled up against him until he lost his beloved Neverland and got sued silly by an angry sheikh. The sensible thing for Michael Jackson to do to recoup his losses would have been to either release a new album or go on tour to bang out the old hits to hundreds of thousands of adoring fans. But he never did. And now it looks like we know why.

According to some reports, Michael Jackson’s extended period of inactivity isn’t down to stagefright or the unshakable sense that, three bars into Smooth Criminal, someone’s going to chuck a bottle of piss at him and call him a nonce – it’s all because of that pesky Alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency – a genetic lung disorder that might very well kill him if he isn’t given a transplant as soon as possible.

That’s the claim by Michael Jackson biographer Ian Halperin, anyway, who also insists that Michael Jackson can barely speak and has lost 95% of his vision in his left eye. OK! reports:

Halperin claims his lung condition has become more acute. The writer added: “He has had Alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency for years but it’s gotten worse. He needs a lung transplant but may be too weak to go through with it. He also has emphysema and chronic gastrointestinal bleeding, which his doctors have had a lot of trouble stopping. It’s the bleeding that’s the most problematic part. It could kill him.”

If these claims hold any water, then it’s a horrible irony – the very thing that has earnt Michael Jackson his fortune over the last 40 years is being taken away from him by his own genes. Why did it have to be the one thing he was good at? Why couldn’t he have developed a degenerative protein deficiency on a part of his body that he didn’t need, like his hair or whichever part of his brain it is that makes him act so funny around kids? Why?

Still, though, let’s hope that Michael Jackson can get this lung transplant if that’s what will save his life. God knows his children are going to be messed up enough as it is without a dead dad to worry about.

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And, as such, Winona Ryder has decided to try out a brave new look for visit to London this week. It’s a look that fashion insiders have already dubbed ‘worryingly ill on an aeroplane chic’. And Winona Ryder pulls it off with aplomb, or at least she did yesterday when she got ill on an aeroplane to London and had to be rushed to hospital upon landing.

But don’t worry, solitary remaining Winona Ryder fan – despite rumours of an overdose, your skinny hero was quickly discharged from hospital. And for an extra dollop of good news, Winona Ryder left the airport by ambulance, so she didn’t even set off the metal detectors with all the cutlery she’d been compulsively stashing down her trousers for the duration of the flight (please don’t sue us for making that last bit up).

Winona Ryder might have had her years in the wilderness. OK, her decade. Winona Ryder might have had her entire decade in the wilderness, but now she’s coming back with full force. As Spock’s mother in the upcoming Star Trek movie, Winona Ryder has been given a second chance at the big league, and she’s going to grab it with both hands.

So there’ll be none of the old Winona Ryder craziness any more, OK? No high-profile shoplifting stories, no disgusting stories about having sex with angry hobbits, no drawing attention to yourself by suddenly falling ill on an aeroplane and being rushed to hospital amid rumours of an accidental tranquiliser overdos… wait. Oh Winona, you didn’t.

She did. Or she might have done. Here’s what we know – on a flight from London yesterday, Winona Ryder suddenly got ill and was taken to hospital as a precautionary measure, where she was checked out and quickly discharged. However, The Sun has a slightly different take on the matter:

Winona, 37, had her stomach pumped at a West London hospital. It is believed she mistakenly took too many Xanax pills — used to treat anxiety. One passenger said: “She turned a deathly shade of pale. It was scary.” The Boeing 747’s captain requested a ‘priority landing’ and touched down 22 minutes early at 11.13am.

If it’s true, then that’s fair enough – flying is terrifying. Everyone has their own way to relax on a flight – some do exercises, some listen to jazz. Winona Ryder just seems to enjoy getting shitfaced on tranquilisers, collapsing and getting rushed to hospital to have her stomach pumped. And that’s perfectly fine. Rather that than sit through the in-flight movie, anyway. Especially if it happens to be any Winona Ryder movie made since 1999. Bleurgh.

But look at The Sun’s paragraph again. Because Winona Ryder suddenly got ill on her flight, the pilot managed to get to Heathrow 22 minutes quicker than usual. That’s incredible. Forget neck pillows and support stockings, it seems like all you need to make your long-haul flights slightly less unbearable is a skinny barely-famous idiot with delusions of grandeur who seems to be constantly on the brink of pharmaceutically-assisted death.

That’s it. Winehouse, you’re coming on holiday with us next year. If our theory hold up we’ll reach America in about 25 minutes.

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And if there’s one thing worse than going to a Janet Jackson concert in Canada, it’s getting ready to go to a Janet Jackson concert in Canada and then finding out you can’t because Janet Jackson’s gone and been struck by some sort of super mystery illness.

Which is what happened last night, as it happened. Five minutes before the opening act of Janet Jackson’s concert in Montreal was set to take the stage, Janet ’suddenly fell ill’ and had to go to hospital. Nobody would say what illness Janet Jackson had, although it’s thought to be the rare Nogoodalbumsfortwodecades Syndrome. Or it might be something serious, in which case – whoops.

Janet Jackson must be glad she kept that secret teenage daughter of hers a secret, because there could be a chance that Janet’s going to need to start harvesting her organs before long.

Why? Because that bout of the sniffles that wrecked Janet Jackson’s SNL appearance in March has escalated into a full-blown mystery illness that has disappointed literally dozens of Canadian Janet Jackson fans. Well, disappointed is a strong word. And so is dozens, for that matter.

Anyway, the point is that Janet Jackson suddenly got ill right before a concert last night and had to cancel the show. BBC News reports:

The 42-year-old had to cancel her Montreal show after she “got suddenly ill” during her sound check, her publicists said. Jackson was being monitored at an unnamed hospital but no further details of her condition have been released.

Are you getting this? Janet Jackson is ill with a disease that’s a secret in a hospital that’s unknown in a country that nobody cares about. Don’t any of you say we never give you the facts.

For the time being, Janet Jackson hopes to reschedule her cancelled concert – leading us to believe that she’s either not that seriously ill at all or that she plans to surprise the population of Montreal in the future with a number of sexy dance routines performed inside an iron lung attached to a stationary bleeping piece of hospital equipment.

Hopefully it’ll be the first one, otherwise we’re going to look a right bunch of dicks.

It was an age of moralising without snobbery, with heroes you wanted to be and leading men you wished you could just hug and say ‘thank you’ to.

Paul Newman is a man from that age, and to this day he carries on being a shining example to the world of Hollywood as to what makes a man.

Newman doesn’t bother hyping himself up to be our new saviour – he eschews the limelight that could so easily surround his incredible array of charity works and instead focuses on, well, raising the money. Not constantly appearing on TV to tell us all that he’s raising money – the man just goes out there and does it, managing to make some damn fine marinades for your chicken in the process.

Not like those modern day ponces who skip around from chat show to radio discussion, elaborating to anyone who cares (clue: no one) on how they aim to change the world, that China may not have a great human rights record and generally patronising all with the combination of ears and the ability to understand language.

Nor does he take his time being clinically insane, leaping about the place, alienating fans and generally being a grade ‘A’ berk. The man may subscribe to a religion, he may not, but he certainly doesn’t jog around from port to port cramming his beliefs down anyone’s throat.

What a guy.

Paul Newman inhabits the same echelon of existence saved for members of the human race who are just great, above all reproach and come across as thoroughly nice people – like Gregory Peck, for example. The kind of people that even we at hecklerspray towers find it hard to take issue with.

But unlike the Pecker, Newman isn’t dead. And if his latest statement about his health is anything to go on, the 83-year-old won’t be for a while. Speaking to journalists through his spokesperson, the following factoid was revealed:

“Newman says he’s doing nicely.”

Granted, this does nothing to quell the rumours that the retired actor is gravely ill with cancer, but if Paul says he’s doing great, hecklerspray believes him.

If one of the manliest men that has ever existed tells you he’s okay – even if it’s through a third party – then he’s okay. Stop the speculation and just hope the alleged lung cancer isn’t true; we’ve had enough life-threatening cancer for this year, thanks.

To be fair though, cancer clearly wouldn’t stand a chance against Newman. He’d crack a pool cue over that fucker’s back.

You see, Janet Jackson was supposed to be performing on Saturday Night Live this week but she's dropped out because she's got the sniffles. Or, as she likes to call it, 'the flu'.

A fairly serious bout of flu nonetheless, because Janet Jackson wound up in hospital because of it, but on the bright side at least by pulling out of SNL Janet Jackson has stopped an audience of millions from catching whatever degenerative brain disease you get when you're forced to watch a fortysomething woman repeatedly try to convince you of how sexy she is to a backing of tinpot R&B fluff.

Disease is laying waste to our celebrities at the moment, whether it's newsreaders dying from strokes or 1980s film stars being diagnosed with terminal cancer or widdly-woo rockers catching mystery tour-cancelling illnesses. Whatever happened to celebrities getting a little tiny bit ill and making a great big fuss about it? Huh?

Relax, because Janet Jackson has heard our pleas and pulled out of a TV appearance because she's got a bit of a cold. MSNBC reports:

Janet Jackson has dropped out of her upcoming “Saturday Night Live” performance because she has the flu, the singer’s representative said Tuesday. Celebrity Web site TMZ.com reports that the singer even checked into the ER at Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles. “Janet did go to the hospital last night due to the fact she’s been suffering from this flu that’s kicked a lot of people’s behinds,” publicist Patti Webster told The Associated Press in an e-mail. “She was never admitted and she is fine.”

Really? Janet Jackson? The flu? Surely Janet Jackson's immune system is as strong as an ox by now, what with everything she's been through. She's exposed enough flesh to the elements and given birth to enough phantom daughters over the years that a bit of a snotty nose shouldn't be able to stop Janet Jackson from appearing on a TV show.

If we're guessing correctly, Janet Jackson would have been on SNL to perform her new single Feedback. And that wouldn't have taken much energy, since it's basically just Janet croaking about how sexy she thinks she is through Dr Stephen Hawking's voicebox to the sound of an old Britney Spears cast-off. Janet Jackson could do that in her sleep. It certainly sounds like she recorded it that way, anyway.

Or maybe, just maybe, Janet Jackson is exaggerating her illness because her new album isn't selling and she's decided that pretending to be ill is a better way to drum up publicity for it than by twonking about on Facebook like REM.

Now we know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Have a heart hecklerspray. Janet Jackson had the flu, and the flu can actually kill people." Which is true – the flu can kill you, but it usually only kills people who are really really impossibly old and… oh.

In that case, close call, Janet. Sorry for ever doubting you.

Read more:

Janet Jackson drops out of ‘SNL’ performance – MSNBC 

It's been reported, you see, that Eminem went to hospital over the Christmas period because of a serious heart condition and complications from pneumonia, with sources adding that he's increased in weight to over 200 lb. Of course, this illness and massive weight-gain means that Eminem can't be called Slim Shady any more, and so he's thought to be deciding on a new name, with either Fatt Poorly or Pensioner'z Illnezz being current front-runners.

In the past you couldn't help but stumble across comparisons between Eminem and Elvis Presley – after all, they were both white boys stealing black music and sending it mainstream. But now the comparison has never looked more accurate thanks to reports that Eminem has taken on Elvis' fondness for tubby reclusiveness and bouts of ill health. While it hasn't got to the 'death by shitting' stage yet, it's understood that things are actually getting quite serious for Eminem.

TMZ has reported that Eminem was rushed to a Detroit hospital over the festive period suffering from pneumonia, a bad heart and worrying weight-gain:

We're told Em was taken to a Detroit-area hospital for a serious heart condition and severe pneumonia. Sources tell TMZ Em's weight has ballooned to over 200 lbs. Eminem 's publicist told TMZ: "Over the holidays, Marshall Mathers, aka Eminem, was under doctor's care at a Detroit-area hospital for complications due to pneumonia. He has since been released and is doing well recovering at home."

At first, news of Eminem's illness probably seems sudden, but it's only after some thought that you come to realise that, actually, what is it that Eminem does any more? Sure, he's sold millions of records, but his last proper album came out four years ago. Since then there's been a Greatest Hits collection and a weak mix album to his name and nothing else with little on the horizon. Frankly Eminem could have caught pneumonia by digging a moat around his house naked, or contracted his heart disease by swallowing bees for a bet for all we know about him these days.

So hopefully Eminem will get better soon, and maybe even think about making more music at some point. Still, ever the optimists, at least there's something to be gained from Eminem laying in a hospital seriously ill – it'd be one less opportunity for him marry his ex-wife and then divorce her another couple of times.

Read more:

Eminem — Not Slim Anymore; Big Health Scare! – TMZ 

You know, like how Ellen DeGeneres cancelled taping her show in NYC, Julia Louis-Dreyfus picketed arm in arm with Wanda Sykes, Garth Brooks cancelled his TV appearances, and so on. 

But all of these people are total poseurs because if you really want to support a cause, you develop a life-threatening chronic illness that causes you to cancel shows for months on end disappointing lonely middle-aged women everywhere like Wayne Newton has done. Wayne Newton and his virus-ridden heart are the only celebrity making any real sacrifices here.  

The rest of you people just make us sick. 

Legendary singer Wayne Newton has a big heart. We don’t mean that he sings to blind amputee orphan leper children or wipes spilled tanker oil off of baby seals with his silky shirts, but he literally has a big heart. Wayne Newton has a heart condition known as cardiomyopathy, so his heart is bigger than it should be. And if you know anything about the human body you know that the heart is pretty important as far as bodily organs go, so it’s understandable that Wayne Newton would be forced to cancel his Las Vegas shows for the next two months.

However, such cancellations should be appended with warnings of swerving mini-vans and all chocolates being sold out of stores due to the severe depression of middle-aged women that have been planning a trip to Las Vegas to see Wayne Newton with their Weight Watchers support group for months.  

Anyway, it turns out that Wayne Newton apparently contracted a virus during a USO tour in Afghanistan that has led to his unfortunate condition. That sucks for him, really. Seriously, we could understand if he got the disease as punishment for his awful showing on Dancing With The Stars, but not for this. Such an event makes us even more grateful that Paris Hilton isn’t going to Rwanda where she could contract some horrible parasite that would fester in her brain and make it impossible to make albums or say ridiculously stupid things on Larry King Live or do anything at all. Yeah, that’d be real bad.   

But, hey, don’t you go writing your sympathies for Wayne Newton just yet, because he’s got a few things to say about the matter: 

“This is just another little bump in the road. The doctors are a little more concerned than I am. Part of their concern is that I feel so good—I’m not taking this lightly.” 

And if you’re one of those people rooting for Wayne Newton to choke to death as you watch the sputum overflow from his mouth and collect in his chest hair and belly button, then first of all shame on you for thinking such things, and second of all, Mr. Las Vegas has a few words for you, too: 

“I really want to apologise to the fans that were going to see me in those shows. I’m terribly apologetic. And for those who want to paint this situation with a black brush, they’re not going to get their wish. I’m going to be fine.” 

It is really such a relief to hear that Wayne Newton is going to be fine. Not only because heart disease is a horrific ordeal, but because a sexier 65-year-old barrel-chested, girdle-strapped man with teasing peeks at chest hair we have yet to find.