Even in the unsettling world of rock star deaths, few were as shocking as the murder of Beatle John Lennon, shot outside his Manhattan apartment in 1980 by a fan who had asked for the singer’s autograph hours earlier.

Thanks to both the worldwide success of the Beatles and Lennon’s strident political activism (which almost got him extradited from his adopted country in the early ’70s), many presumed that his death was politically motivated, coming so soon after the release of his first album since 1975. But killer Mark David Chapman was driven only by psychological delusions and a hunger for fame. Despite protests from his lawyer, Chapman refused to plead insanity, and was found guilty of second-degree murder.

Lennon’s tragically shortened life has since been the subject of countless documentaries and books, and Chapman eventually got his own biopic, the flop Chapter 27, starring Jared Leto. Chapman, who was sentenced to 20 years to life, has been denied parole three times despite an “exemplary disciplinary record.” Because of the high profile of his crime, it’s unlikely he’ll ever be released from prison.

“The heart wants what it wants,” says Woody Allen, which is probably the only reason a middle-aged man could ever give for hooking up with his babymama’s adopted daughter. Mia Farrow thought everything was fine between her and her director boyfriend in 1992 when she accidentally stumbled upon a series of nude photographs of the 22-year-old Soon-Yi Previn, which Allen had accidentally left on his mantle. D’oh!

Despite Allen’s claims that there was nothing remotely incestuous about the relationship (He barely knew Soon-Yi was alive until her mom asked him to take her to a basketball game!), the media quickly leaped on the story, which broke during the filming of Husbands & Wives the same year. In the film, Allen is tempted to cheat on Farrow with a young college student. Perhaps the credits should have read, “Inspired by a true story.”

Since the public furor and a contentious child custody case ended, Allen has continued to knock out a movie a year without interruption, and has now been with Soon-Yi (who he married in 1997) for longer than he was originally with Farrow. Allen has credited their marital success to a “paternal feeling” on his part. Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.

Just as it’s hard to imagine what life was like before the Internet, it’s hard to imagine what the Internet was like before it was full of celebrity sex tapes. In 1997, IEG Entertainment offered the world downloadable copies of Baywatch bombshell Pamela Anderson and Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee celebrating their whirlwind 1995 marriage in a series of enthusiastic, onscreen sexual encounters.

As a nation marveled at the larger-than-life pairs that God and plastic surgeons had given the larger-than-life pair, a sleazy precedent was created: from that day forward, no celebrity’s PC or cell phone would be safe from hump-hungry hackers. And for all their outrage and legal action against those who profited from their purloined sexploits, no one benefited more from the tape’s release than Pam and Tom, whose name recognition skyrocketed in the months to come. Eventually, enterprising entertainers like Dustin Diamond and Chyna would actually provide their own erotic home videos to producers, in hopes of similarly profiting from a complete loss of dignity.

Celebrity-sex-tape culture has become so prevalent that Anderson went on to marry both Rick Salomon and Kid Rock, who appeared in pornographic romps of their own, with Paris Hilton and Creed’s Scott Stapp, respectively. Sounds like Pam has a type.

You can bump ‘n grind while simulating orgasm on MTV, and you can cram prime-time TV with cleavage galore, but you can’t bust out the right half of an R&B diva’s very substantial rack during the world’s most-watched sporting event. Justin Timberlake probably had no idea what kind of maelstrom he’d set off when, during the halftime show of the 2004 Superbowl, he ripped open Janet Jackson’s bustier and her luscious boob popped out, replete with a sunburst nipple shield, The stunt – famously deemed a “wardrobe malfunction” – sparked over half a million complaints to the FCC, and framed Jackson a pop pariah.

The so-called Nipplegate scandal happened at a time when Jackson could have benefited from a little notoriety. But the dreary Damita Jo, released a few weeks later, kinda stiffed, and Jackson never pulled out of her career slump – a bummer. But perhaps the real bummer is that even the slightest whiff of sex has been banished from Superbowl acts ever since.

Britney, light of our lives, fire of our loins! How do we love thee? Let us count the ways:

1. Your “One More Time” schoolgirl outfit. (Hands up, who rubbed one out to that?)

2. “Oops, I Did It Again.” The song that launched a thousand lazy Life & Style headlines.

3. Your 55-hour marriage to Jason Alexander, who later sold his story of shower-stall rutting to the tabs.

4. Swapping spit with Madonna at the MTV VMAs. (Our little skeez is all grown up now!)

5. Your reality show Britney & Kevin: Chaotic. Like I Love Lucy on Rohypnol.

6. F*cking Fred Durst. A mental picture that could make even grown men go “Ewwww!”

7. Driving with baby Sean Preston on your lap. Celebrities…they’re just like us!

8. Your impromptu tribute to Sinéad O’Connor.

9. Your VMAs comeback “performance.” (Still better than Bon Jovi.)

10. Your meth-fueled trips to Cedars-Sinai.

11. Dating one of the paparazzi who follow you around everyday. (And have a way of tying up our commute to the Scandalist office.)

12. The Blackout album. A lot better than most people think…[That's enough Britney Spears –Ed.] — Charles Bottomley

After the jump, watch Britney sleepwalk through her VMAs “comeback.”

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The hippie dream received a rude awakening in 1969 when Charles Manson, a failed musician, used psychedelics and “free love” (orgies, rape, that kind of thing) to transform a group of troubled, vulnerable young adults into a violent, psychotic “family.” His efforts eventually led to a series of grotesque murders in August 1969 (slogans like “DEATH TO PIGS” and “RISE” were written on the walls in blood) that horrified residents of the hills outside LA and stumped police for months.

Manson, in and out of jail for assault and robbery since the age of nine, prophesized that an apocalyptic battle between the races would end with Manson ruling the black populace as the new Jesus Christ alongside his fellow angels, The Beatles (who had not been informed of these plans). Anxious to get things started, he ordered members of his cult to massacre rich white Californians, hoping police would blame African-Americans for the crimes. Sharon Tate, the pregnant wife of director Roman Polanski, and celebrity hair stylist Jay Sebring (the inspiration for Warren Beatty’s Shampoo) were among those stabbed and shot by Manson’s clan. Thanks to a series of bureaucratic blunders (the gun was found and given to the police months before it was connected the murders), the LAPD did not arrest Manson and his followers until December.

The court case (highlighted by frequent disruptions, shaved heads and self-inflicted forehead scars) was prosecuted by Vincent Bugliosi, whose account, Helter Skelter, was an instant best seller and the basis of two TV movies. Imprisoned for life and still awaiting the apocalypse, Manson remains a ’60s anti-hero for young transgressives. Not that he’s happy about it: “Being crazy meant something [in the '60s], he said. “Nowadays, everybody’s crazy.”

Once upon a time, the biggest pop star in the world was accused of molesting a frequent visitor of his Neverland Ranch and settled out of court before a criminal suit could be brought against him. He ignited global fury and another court case 10 years later by claiming in a documentary that he shared his bed with young boys (his accuser also suggested that MJ shared more than that and plied him with alcohol or “Jesus Juice”). He was eventually proven innocent by a jury but to pop fans who no longer want to be associated with him, he’s as good as guilty eternally. Where his career is concerned, this is THE END. Seriously.

The circus never ends when O.J. Simpson is around. After a much-televised “trial of the century” full of racist cops, bloody gloves and a leech called Kato Kaelin, the football star/actor/Hertz spokesperson was found “not guilty” of the murder of estranged wife Nicole Brown Simpson and her friend Ron Goldman, infuriating well over half of the country. Despite the verdict, O.J. Simpson was found financially culpable for the murders in a civil suit, owing the victims’ survivors more than $30 million.

While Simpson claimed he would tirelessly search for the real killer, he seemed to spend most of his time playing golf and trying to find ways to make money without having to give it to the Goldman family. Take the tastefully-titled book, If I Did It. This highly publicized tome was to provide a first-person account of how Simpson would have murdered his wife that fateful night…had he actually done it. The Goldmans, still waiting for those tens of millions, filed suit and eventually claimed ownership of his “fictional” account. Simpson is now awaiting trial in Las Vegas for allegedly holding up a sports memorabilia collector in 2007. Unsurprisingly, Clark County is having a hard time finding an impartial jury.

Princess Diana, the “people’s princess,” was often described as the World’s Most Photographed Woman. So it shouldn’t have been too shocking when the paparazzi chased her driver head-on into a concrete pillar in a Paris underpass on August 31, 1997.

In the decade since, a media ecosystem has grown fat off of books and movies detailing Diana’s life and death. The juicy bits include her hellish marriage to Prince Charles, his and her infidelity before their 1996 divorce (she liked men who could handle horses), her suicide attempts and bulimia, her good works and warm personality, and conspiracy theories relating to her death.

One theory suggests Britain’s secret service knocked off Diana and her boyfriend Dodi Al Fayed (the heir to Harrod’s department store) because Muslim offspring would be an affront to the Crown. But a $16 million investigation concluded earlier this year that the blame fell mostly on Diana’s driver (who had sucked down the equivalent to four shots of whiskey before taking the wheel) and partially on the paparazzi. Even Diana herself was somewhat at fault — she failed to buckle up.

Not only have we lost a great humanitarian, but also the woman Tina Brown (author of The Diana Chronicles) refers to as the “last great golden icon.” “Celebrity these days is completely for sale; it’s not remotely mysterious,” explained Brown in a recent interview. “But there’s something that remains glamorous and mysterious about royalty.” Guess the gossip mill will just have to focus on things like Kim Kardashian’s Ass.

If only Monica Lewinsky hadn’t blown Bill Clinton! We know that Mr. I-Did-Not-Have Sexual-Relations-With-That-Woman wouldn’t have been impeached in 1998 for lying under oath. But there is so much we don’t know … Would a zippered Clinton have gone on to prove MVP in Al Gore’s presidential campaign and subsequent victory in the 2000 election? Would we be in Iraq? Would we have attacked a real enemy instead — global warming, say? Would we have affordable oil, a viable economy, friends who speak other languages?

Forget the sordid details: the blue dress adorned with presidential seed, the intern’s claim that the commander-in chief deployed a cigar-tube in her free-fly zone, the fact that she was only 21 when the “inappropriate intimate contact” began. Instead, join us in wondering: When Monica blew the president, did she blow everything? Maybe. (OK, probably.) That’s why we’ve ranked a few measly blow jobs between consenting adults as the second greatest celebrity scandal of all time.