by Tracy Moore
I've made fun of Miley Cyrus with the same relish that I've reserved for making fun of practically everything under the sun. Public figures are fair game, after all.
But this latest report about Cyrus in a lip lock at BNA airport with some Australian dude I'm supposed to give a shit about has really given me pause. Is Miley Cyrus a cunning young businesswoman who knows that working her sexuality (and controlling it), especially at such a young age, can only mean triple the cha-ching? Or is she a mere fame lemming who lacks the talent to rise to the top on her actual artistry, so she resorts to cheap look-at-how-hot-it-is-to-watch-me-come-into-my-own-sexuality thrills? I mean, shit Cyrus, I wanna give you credit for being an autonomous gal who's making your own choices (girl power!), but you're also all of 16.
Take the recent pole-dancing Teen Choice Awards moment that "shocked" the nation. And by "shocked," I mean "distracted" and by "nation," I mean idiots. Pole dancing is like tattoos at this point: Once yer grandma can do it, it's no longer counterculture, shocking or remotely subversive.
Instinctively, people wanted to know what ol' Billy Ray thought about it. What did Mr. Cyrus have to say about his little precious girl working her jo-jos for cash?
To paraphrase Chris Rock, a father's only real job with regard to his daughter in terms of raising her correctly is to keep said daughter off the pole. Didn't Billy Ray Cyrus get the message? Do I feel sorry for Miley Cyrus now? Add in this ridiculous, moronic breathless coverage of her budding sexuality, and the answer is: Maybe? 'Cause part of me thinks she knows exactly what she's doing. You know, the whole, I'm so sexy, but I'm so innocent thing. Gosh! Has that, like, ever been done before?