Well. Miley's performance the other night certainly has tongues wagging, doesn't it?
I mean, could you bear it?
Talk about a kick in the pants, or lack thereof!
Sorry. Best I could do, under the circs.
As the whole world must know by now, Miley Cyrus performed at the VMAs the other night. (Don't ask me what VMA stands for. I don't know. It's a music awards thing of some kind.) Her production number featured giant teddy bears and what looked like simulated anal sex. Also a lot of crotch-clutching, butt-wiggling and sticking out her tongue.
(Which, by the way, was a startling white. Miley are you getting dehydrated again dear? Maybe you should knock back a little Gatorade. That should take care of it.)
The act has already been analyzed six ways from Sunday. My favorite interpretation is the on that goes something like, "Miley is showing the world that she is no longer a child star but a grown-up artist to be taken seriously."
Right. Because nothing says "take me seriously" like rubber pants and crotch-clutching. Hey, when a toddler does that? I get the message. And I take him seriously, don't you?
Here's what I keep thinking. Miley's act did not spring into life on Sunday night. It took weeks, maybe months of preparation.
So , it's not like they didn't have time to think about it.
And in all those weeks and months of rehearsals and fittings and sound checks, did it not occur to anyone, even once, that maybe this wasn't such a good idea? "I don't know, Miley, maybe you should just ...sing, or something."
Yesterday I was driving two thirteen-year-old girls around. They were watching Miley's act on my iPhone.
You know what they talked about for the rest of the ride?
How much they admired Adele.
Damn, I must be good at this Catholic parenting thing!