[
{
"name": "Related Stories / Support Us Combo",
"component": "11576102",
"insertPoint": "4",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "6"
},{
"name": "Air - Billboard - Inline Content",
"component": "11576098",
"insertPoint": "2/3",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "3"
},
{
"name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
"component": "11576099",
"insertPoint": "12",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
},{
"name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
"component": "11576099",
"insertPoint": "4th",
"startingPoint": "16",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
}
,{
"name": "RevContent - In Article",
"component": "12633456",
"insertPoint": "3/5",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "5"
}
]
I feel the same way about pop star Ariana Grande as I do about kittens. Like a kitten, she is small, manic, and often has furry ears. Like a kitten, everyone in the world loves her. And, like a kitten, she fills me with deep, untenable terror.
Last Halloween, the ubiquity of Grande-inspired costumes hit an all-time high. This is not a reason to grin. It's a reason to lock your doors.
News reports have done nothing to quiet my petrifying fear of demon-plagued potential serial killer Ariana Grande. If she turns out to be a sociopath who takes over the world and destroys us, don't act like I didn't warn you in a completely reasoned way.