Why all the hoopla over Miley Cyrus? Hollywood picks this to become indignant about? Our cultural eyes collectively widen at this lewd sexual expression as though we've finally crossed the line.
Oh, those blurred lines.
Poor Miley. The sex culture nurtured her from infancy (as it has all our children)—and then stabbed her in the back when she participated in show and tell.
I call foul.
Nothing's off limits in the public sector these days. Sexually explicit t-shirts, bumper stickers, ads, commercials, family television shows, music videos, and movies abound. Victoria Secret peddles soft porn in larger-than-life window displays in half the malls in America—at least Fredericks puts theirs in brown paper.
This saturation is a huge problem for me because, unless I keep my kids in a plastic bubble, I can't protect them from the obscenities that have permeated public life, I can only mitigate it. Even if I keep it out of our home, it's like our young people are breathing in second-hand smoke as soon as they leave the house.
Miley made the mistake of not understanding the lay of this new land and its seemingly endless freedom—how could she? The lines have become blurred to the point of being practically invisible.
I mean no one said anything about Robin Thicke and his outrageously raw and objectifying song lyrics in "Blurred Lines" until now, after the fiasco. His mother is trashing Miley's performance now, but where was she last week when asked about the song itself. She thought it was catchy—and she was oh, so proud at how it was the number one song of the summer—not just in the US, but worldwide. Billy Bush asked her what she thought of the lyrics—in the rap section, in particular. "Oh, I don't even know what they're saying—it's just a fun song."
Those words don't explicitly tell you what these guys want to do with women and how they want to do it? It's not super crass—those thoughts dealing with a woman's *ss?
Just a fun song with a catchy tune?
It's not just these lyrics—a multitude of songs are full of men singing about women like they were blow-up dolls with orifices. Robin's mom was disgusted by Miley's performance, but not by her son's video? The three women there are naked (but for a flesh colored thong), looking dead and drugged—sex accessories to men who are fully clothed. But that performance was what?—artsy? Apparently it was because I didn't hear anyone in a hoopla over that. Fourteen million views and counting—but that's hot.
Miley, a mis-guided twenty-year-old with irresponsible parents, and the same manager as Brittany Spears. She looked at the Thicke video, the culture in general, the VMA's and Super Bowl entertainment/antics of the past, the Madonna and Lady Gaga's of the world, and decided she wanted to play in the big leagues.
But those blurred lines messed her up.
She didn't realize that grabbing your crotch with your hand is acceptable, but pointing to it with a giant foam finger glove is a big no-no. At least for now. She didn't realize that singing about a guy having sex from behind is okay, but illustrating a tamer version of the lyrics is a big no-no. At least for now.
Miley, you were born a year before your time.
Our society has created the Miley Cyruses of this world, and there are a lot of them. Every time I hear five-year-old little girls singing provocative song lyrics, I want to cry! Every time I see them undulating their hips in dance routines emulating the pop star du jour, I want to cry! Every time we sex them up with skanky clothing, I want to cry!. If women's lib was supposed to empower us sexually, why does it feel like we're easily degraded and manipulated into being sex slaves/toys to men who assure us they know what we want, and how much we're going to like it?
Shame on Robin's wife who was all for the lyrics and the video. Shame on all the parents who abdicate their responsibility in protecting their children, or who, worse yet, set an example that's just as raunchy. Shame on all the women out there who support over-sexed, disrespectful men—viral masculine hunks of burning love that they are.
Women respecting themselves—body and soul—is that really so backwards that we feel the need to shed it to show how liberated we are? Yes, we bear responsibility here.
Shame on this society for adulturating what should be one of the most beautiful and wildly glorious (yet private) acts between a man and a woman—binding them together.
Body and soul.
And again the real problem.
The lines have become so blurred that we expose our young people to that which they should never be exposed to. We warp their sensibilities. Maybe not individually, but collectively, pop culture is grooming our boys to be animals, and our girls to be either docile about it, or equally depraved.
By allowing everything into the public sector.
By not knowing what to keep private anymore.
By not knowing what to revere.
My guess is that Miley had a slew of people, from her mother to her manager to VMA execs to Robin Thicke—all knowing what a train wreck this was going to be, but they let her do it anyway—maybe they even egged her on.
Think of the ratings and Twitter numbers.
And infamy is still fame, right?
Leave Miley Cyrus alone.
She's doing exactly what this culture has programmed her to do.