I didn’t see the MTV awards show this year. Then again, I’ve never seen an MTV award show.
True to form, those preceding two facts will not deter me from weighing in on this year’s highly-hyped edition. For those readers who actually saw the awards show, feel free to roll your eyes at the inaccuracies which will soon follow. For the rest of you, take my word for it and try to enjoy my synopsis. By reading my account and not actually watching the show, you’ll have saved yourself an hour or two, including roughly 23 minutes of Axe Body Spray commercials.
As a bit of background, MTV Music Television – which hasn’t aired music videos since who knows when – has an annual movie and music awards show. The show has had its share of “outrageous” moments, all of which served to catapult someone further into the spotlight for a few more minutes. This is the same venue where Madonna sucked face with Britney and Lady Gaga covered her loins with flank steaks (or maybe she covered her flanks with loins). Howard Stern once flew in dressed as his own super hero, “Fartman”, and blew up part of the stage with an egger.
This year’s big story, if the internet is to be believed, is that Miley Cyrus did a naughty dance on stage. To be honest, I wouldn’t recognize Miley if she was twerking right in front of my house. It’s a safe bet that I’d yell at her to stay the hell off my grass though. I’ve written about Miley before and if nothing else interesting happens in the future, I likely will again. She’s constantly featured in gossip rags and we all know that’s where I get some of my best material.
Even more fun than Miley’s dancing is the feigned shocked reactions by the media to what they had all expected in the first place. I don’t doubt that some of the talk-news types already had “outrage over something that was said or done at the MTV awards” penciled into the following week’s programming before the show even happened.
I sat in a doctor’s office waiting room on Monday, listening to one TV talking head after another yabber on and on about Miley’s performance, with one commentator making the suggestion that they should no longer call her by name. Apparently, “She Who Will Not Be Named” is this knucklehead’s idea of a punishment for someone whose parents named her “Miley”. It seemed something of an over-reaction to Miley’s antics to put her in the same category as Beetlejuice and Leona Helmsley.
On Tuesday I sat in another doctor’s waiting room and listened to more of the same. I’m either getting old or I’ve changed careers and become a pharmaceutical sales rep.
At one point, they stopped talking about Miley having unsafe relations with a foam finger and discussed poison gas attacks and the likelihood of the US getting themselves into yet another no-win military clusterfuck in yet another middle eastern country. There was a commercial break and then it was back to more in-depth debate over the outrageous behavior of former child stars. Justin Beiber could not be reached for comment as he was busy killing a potted palm.
As the world teeters on the brink of absolute bedlam, I suppose it’s a perverse luxury to spend our time worrying about a skinny white girl shaking her moneymaker on a TV award show. I can hardly wait to see what diversions next week will bring.