Equally fresh in my mind is my reaction. Not exactly a fan of country music at the time, and certainly not Achy Breaky Heart (which all that year had been lending 12-year-old girls, grandmas and a few town simpletons - the kind who like to bust a move by themselves in the corner of the bar near the jukebox - a new dance) and reeling from whatever personal trauma was going on at the moment, that over-exuberant announcement launched me into a ferocious spate of mock jubilation, a concentrated concoction of David Spade and Adam Sandler that maligned Cyrus, his wife, his new baby and the announcer bearing the glad tidings, to which the girl I was driving with, and arguing with, rolled her eyes and (rightly) muttered, "Don't be a dick."
Touche...but a little dickyness was (is) warranted. I hate the propagation of the 'American royalty' concept, which we assign to our leaders and stars in lieu of actual royalty (itself an anachronism in the modern age). I cannot abide the habit of celebrity babies being hoisted up with the expectation that I should contribute a moment of my day to share in the joy or acknowledge them as more significant than any other baby. I like babies, I like Life, it's always a miracle and all that jazz, but it isn't about the babies themselves or Life on the covers of OK! or People magazines, it's just about celebrity, truly 'fill up our troughs and watch us swill' time... and it's never anyone good, always the worst celebrities, least deserving of being 'celebrated', who make the most headlines for the simple and totally unimpressive act of procreation. I'm sorry, I just do not give a crap about North West, or Baby Snooki...and I don't care about the children of celebrities I admire either. Good for them; I wish them (all) well. But I do not care, and if the end of the world came in a howling wall of wind and rain, none of them would get so much as a passing thought from me.
In any case, little did I know twenty years later Miley would be around and her father wouldn't (so much). In the last year, she has gone to great lengths to reinvent herself, forging a completely opposite persona from her days as a Disney darling. It started with the release of her single Party in the USA, which, despite her stripper pole performance of it at the Nickelodeon awards in 2010, was still kind of innocent, a suitably subtle and appropriate transition from Hannah Montana to Miley Cyrus.
But then, some video of her smoking something surfaced (Salvia, she claimed), and not too long after, photos of her smoking pot were released (Pot, she claimed). This was followed by the inevitable foray into a largely naked existence, short shorts and mini-skirts and half-shirts in public places. Then she chopped off all her hair in an act of defiance (which, just my opinion, wasn't her swiftest move). All of that would seem to have been a build-up to the roll out, this summer, of her single, We Can't Stop, and it's 'shocking' video.
I'll skip the obvious indictment - the poor quality of the song, the clumsy syncopation, weak vocals dependent on autotune, forced lyrics providing the requisite assurance - so prevalent amongst youngsters these days - that everything's okay, they are not to be judged and there will be no consequences (Miley holding court...) - and go straight to the video.
My God, that video...the most absurd assemblage of disconnected and meaningless imagery ever revealed....intended to be shocking, edgy, but just sending coffee through my nose in a spurt of laughter. There is of course the requisite booty shaking (twerking, though that word makes the whole process pretty un-sexy), a lot of doe-eyed kids lying around looking hot, er, something...and Miley snuggling up happily against her shirtless man, presumably at the end of a night of partying...because that's certainly how most nights of partying end up.
(Insert sarcastic fart sound here).
And then last night she performed the song at the MTV Video Music Awards, pretty much re-posted all the ridiculousness of the video on a live stage. She also got bleeped by MTV censors for (yikes!) her use of the word 'Molly' in place of 'Miley', 'Molly' being slang for the drug Ecstasy (though seriously, I cannot believe in 2013 we're still bothering to be afraid of words. Shouldn't that have ended with John Denver's Rocky Mountain High?)
All this being said, though, Miley Cyrus has to be regarded, and criticized, realistically and honestly. Granted, she's pretty annoying, and possesses neither the presence nor the sense of humor of even Kesha in her pursuit of stirring the (already heavily stirred) pot, but she really isn't doing anything different than what any 20-year-old girl - 20-year-old kid - does. Freshly flung into the adult world, she's on a mission to explore everything - her creativity, her identity, her sexuality...and she's posing; it's all a carefully considered pose...not that different, when you get right down to it, from Rebecca Black's Friday. A hell of a lot sleazier, but just as laughably forced and inorganic. She is 'overkill' to all four points of the compass, and yes, it's rough to look at, especially since it would appear she is to pop music what her father was to country music.
But it's normal, normal to make a jack ass out of yourself at that age, and for better or worse, if she didn't have a long history as something so squeaky clean (and for that, equally as annoying) as 'Hannah Montana', we might not bat an eye. Some people would like her, some wouldn't, but nobody would be thinking twice - about her twerking, her furries, or her Molly. In fact, they might accept it, as they do Lady Gaga. As it is, there are more than a few people I've talked to who actually like the song...if not Miley singing it.
It's only by the super-saccharine standard of the Disneysphere that we judge Miley so harshly. And perhaps that is the vulgarity. Maybe Disney, et al., is the problem. Maybe as a society we should stop churning out Hannah Montanas, stop constructing child stars out of spare parts in an effort to squeeze as much money as we can from the grubby little hands of 'tweens, building them up into superstars, then holding them accountable when they grow up and have the temerity to actually want to become adults.
Maybe our children should be completely off limits, what do you say? Let's start with Toddlers and Tiaras, and work up from there.
Man oh man...what kind of world do we live in that Miley Cyrus has made me start appreciating Kesha!?
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From YouTube, this says much more, about things, than might be intended, I think. ;-)
