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They say that nothing reveals a person’s true self more than the people with whom they surround themselves. That’s why American heroes such as Hugh Hefner get to hang out with beautiful, half-naked blondes all day long and people like Britney Spears get married to people like Kevin Federline.

That said, I’d say it’s safe to assume that the kind of people who attend your funeral speaks volumes about the kind of person you were before you hit the big one. If the R.S.V.P. list for your big “going away” party is packed with fun, well-known people, then chances are you weren’t so bad to hang around.

Of course, the reason I say this is that this week (which hereafter will be referred to as “Funeral Fest 2005”) brought to the public’s attention two of the biggest celebrity funerals this year: famed attorney Johnnie Cochran and, of course, Pope John Paul II.

And if one thing’s clear from the star-studded crowds each funeral has attracted, it’s that celebrity funerals are the new hot places to be. They’ve really sort of become like one of P. Diddy’s parties, just instead of the velvet ropes and red carpets, there’s a big hole in the ground and a lot of crying.

Take, for example, Wednesday, when almost every single television channel spent its airtime flipping back and forth between the two high-profile events. And for me, this created more than just an ironic contrast. I think we all know what the station executives were really trying to do.

It’s a popularity contest between John Paul and Johnnie, and I’d say the pontiff was getting beaten handily.

It’s like when you were a little kid and your rich friend was having an all-expenses-paid birthday excursion to Chuck E. Cheese’s, but your poor friend was having his way-not-as-exciting pin-the-tale-on-the-donkey-style backyard birthday bash on the same day.

Needless to say, when the big day comes around, you’re eating pizza with an oversized rat.

And this time, good ol’ John P. is your poor friend.

Let me break it down for you. For one, the pope has been deceased for nearly a week now, and it’s against Catholic religion to embalm him. This translates into our favorite pontiff not quite smelling his “pine freshest.” (In fact, officials have to move him and reapply his make-up every three hours to make the best out of a bad situation). Turn it over to Cochran, who I must say after seeing the live broadcast, wasn’t looking half bad. You know, for a dead guy.

And what about the people at the actual funerals? Now, I know you might be thinking, “But doesn’t the pope beat Cochran in sheer numbers?” Aye, my friend, but I think in this situation quality beats quantity. Sure, there must be millions of nameless people searching for religious guidance migrating to Vatican, but it doesn’t get any more fun and well-known than those in attendance at Cochran’s going-out party.

Go figure, after years of defending Hollywood’s richest and most scandalous, he ended up with a practical who’s who of Hollywood troublemakers and superstars at his final resting day. Magic Johnson, Stevie Wonder, Angela Bassett, O.J. Simpson and even Michael Jackson managed to slip away during a court recess to do a little mingling and mourning. And for me, it doesn’t get more A-list than Angela Bassett. I mean, did you see her in “Waiting to Exhale?” Simply breathtaking.

The only person I saw visiting the pope’s body so far has been President Bush. Big deal; he’s everywhere.

I think if there’s one lesson we can learn from all this, it’s that if you want to be cool, your final departure will be a day full of glitz, glamour and, of course, a large dose of celebrity. If the pope had ditched the huge red cape and that wand and traded them in for a few D-list celebrities, a full-service bar and maybe a few strippers dressed in black dancing on tombstones, then I think he would have won this war of the dead guys.

And who knows? Maybe even Angela Bassett would have been there. I’m guessing she didn’t have anything else to do.

Horribly offended by Scott’s column? E-mail him at jscott@media.ucla.edu.