THE BLOG
06/06/2007 05:36 pm ET Updated May 25, 2011

Paris X

I have a dream.

Well, actually, I had a dream.

In my dream, Paris Hilton turned out to be the reincarnation of Malcolm X. And she changed the world.

True, when I met Paris in St. Tropez last July on P. Diddy's yacht while on a magazine assignment, and later trailed her to the Les Caves du Roy at the Byblos Hotel, and Diddy's White Party at Nikki Beach, I wasn't thinking about past lives.

What I noticed then was how she threw herself at Stavros Niarchos III at Nikki Beach and how disinterested he was. Stavros seemed more into Pierre Casiraghi, Princess Caroline's sexy 19-year-old son.

Paris, I wanted to shout as the 500 euro magnums of champagne erupted poolside, "He's just not that into you!"

A year later - the dream.

It's possible, if you see the karmic logic.

Who else but Paris Hilton embodies what Malcolm X once referred to as "blond, pale-skinned, cold blue-eyed devils, savages, nude and shameless."

Hilton, born 16 years after Malcolm X was assassinated, is the great-granddaughter of the founder of the Hilton Hotel chain. Her aunt, Kim, played one of the children on Nanny and the Professor.

Malcolm X's father was a fiery Baptist preacher who was found bludgeoned and run over by a streetcar after years of harassment by white supremacists. At least one of his uncles was lynched.

Not the most similar of stories -- on the surface.

But before they went to jail -- drunk driver Paris on June 4 for 23 days and drug dealer- numbers runner-burglar Malcolm in 1946 for six years -- both were master hustlers. Paris' LA turf and her cronies -- Lindsay, Britney, Nicole -- are well-documented. So's her business acumen. (See 2005's "Paris, Inc." in The New York Times.)

Harlem was Malcolm's fiefdom. The Savoy Ballroom, the Apollo Theater. He ran with guys like West Indian Archie, Shorty, Rudy and Hymie.

Both admitted shame over their curly hair in their autobiographies. Paris blows hers out; Malcolm's early "conk" came courtesy of a painful lye job.

Malcolm wrote this, but Paris could have, especially if she got Nicole Richie's Memorial Day party invitation, warning "girls under 100 lbs." to stay away:

"In any jungle, the hustler's every waking hour is lived with the knowledge that if he ever relaxes, the other hungry, restless foxes, ferrets, wolves and vultures won't hesitate to make him their prey."

Malcolm was nicknamed Satan by other inmates after he entered prison. He wrote this, too, but Paris could steal it for the rumored million-dollar book deal she's got lined up:

"I was physically miserable and evil-tempered as a snake...The cells didn't have running water... In the dirty, cramped cell, I could lie on my cot and touch both walls."

Malcolm's brother Reginald visited him in prison and turned him on to the Nation of Islam. Bye bye hustler, hello future black nationalist superstar. The Hajj pilgrimage? Book it.

In my dream, Paris Hilton's sister Nicky visits her in jail every day. She's seen carrying reading material to Paris, none of which seems to be Life & Style Weekly or OK!

When Paris is sprung later this month, the paparazzi get a shock.

In my dream, she's in a head scarf. She refuses questions during an impromptu news conference and reads a passage aloud from a certain book that resonated with her in jail.

"The white man was fast losing his power to oppress and exploit the dark world... the dark world was starting to rise to rule the world again, as it had before... the white man's world was on the way down, it was on the way out."

"Now I get why Islam is so hot!" Paris announces. "Being white is so, five minutes ago. That's why I'm dropping the white devil name Hilton. From now on I answer only to Paris X."

The paparazzi are stunned.

"I so get where you're coming from," Paris tells them. "Islam, Schlislam. Boor-ring! Not one hot guy in the bunch. That's where I was three weeks ago."

The paparazzi still look confused.

"It's brilliant," says Paris. "I can't believe I didn't think of it. Islam: the secret weapon for disenfranchised people of color all over the globe to even the playing field and get back at us. Read my lips! White people are the new losers!"

With that, she's whisked off to a waiting limo. But she manages to answer one question.

"What am I going to do now? I'm going to Mecca!"