You're Just a Katy Perry in A Gaga World

The ladies in photoshoots for their next album.

My whole office has been abuzz with the rivalry between two pop-culture giants in music that each have enough moon men and Grammy's as Meryl has Oscars. But let's talk about these two in terms of a Mulveyian skew if we might. Or even Molly Haskell, to me, one is synonymous with the other. If you don't know who they are really quick; Laura Mulvey wrote the seminal film essay 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema' which people read to this day in they Intro to Film class all over the country, and yes I met her once at a conference. It was awesome. Last thing she wants to talk about is that essay :P and she loves red wine. Molly Haskell is Andrew Sarris' widow, who's most famous work is an book, also seminal in its own way and much more incendiary; 'From Reverence to Rape; The Treatment of Women in Movies' basically both of these scholars had the same idea and different ways of getting there. In pure layman's terms; the female, when manifest on the screen creates a somewhat dangerous relationship with her viewer, presumably male. Meaning that she puts herself in a context in which she is desired, which at first light, one might assume the facade of being symbiotic, and actually healthy, but both argue that it is tricky territory because as the object of desire, the woman is both threatening in her symbolism of castration (Mulvey) and as the object of desire ignites caveman DNA in the male who wishes to possess her (Haskell). 

Ok with all that academic jargon out of the way, let's talk about Perry and Gaga. What's happening right now? They are both releasing new albums; Gaga has 'ArtPop' (which might be a nod to Warhol, I'm not sure) and Katy Perry has 'Prism', and both of their new singles suck I'm sorry but they do. So let's just objectify them and treat them for what they are, though both are innovative, they are both living gimmicks, let's just be honest. 

ArtPop single cover.

Here's the thing, I've watched Katy Perry's latest video for 'Roar' and my god was it the worst piece of shit ever. I don't even think she qualifies as being desirable on screen, except igniting my desire to be gone from it.But Katy Perry has always objectified herself by playing on words and gestures in order to keep innocence while maintaining a level of absolute sexual prowess. She's maintained a certain level of 'girlhood' while clearly being a sexually aware woman...kind of like Britney, but she's obnoxious with it and suggestively eats marshmallow pops and has fireworks shooting out of her tits like anyone is going to be turned on by that. 

Katy Perry in her single 'Roar'

Gaga on the other hand, has been such a chameleon it's really difficult to put her into a Mulvey or Haskell context, but probably easier with the former because of her androgyny and yet very clear acknowledgement of her womanhood. And before we go any further, Gaga had sparks flying out of her bra long before Katy Perry decided to do that so, nyah. Because she's clearly a woman but does not play coy, but plays exactly the opposite which is her strength and 'empowerment' she is more threatening to the male viewer because of that (unless of course you're in her little monster gay man fan base (of which I'm an honorary member)), thereby toying with both ends of the spectrum. She is threatening and desirable at the same time. Forget the meat dress, the cigarette sunglasses, all of the fashion LSD she's on; and think that for that she's actually ahead of the curve on this one, because a woman is always either one or the other. Also it doesn't help that her music are basically anthems for the LGBT community and that in her mid-20's she's accomplished more than it takes some a lifetime to do. Katy recently has been criticizing female pop-stars for being 'hyper-sexulaized' I'm assuming she's talking about Miley Cyrus naked writhing on a wrecking ball, but hey, until you stop performing with your comically over-sized boobs out and simulating fellatio on candy I'm going to keep calling you a hypocrite. I guess what I'm trying to say is I hate Katy Perry.
But then again I was never a huge fan of Gaga either (I had to pretend for my gay friends), but I would say like Christina Aguilera who is very much an original and a traleblazer in every sense of the world, she was likened to Gaga when she put out her 'Bionic' record, and hunnies she lost. Gaga built a protective shield around herself where her antics actually paid off, and she doesn't look no where near stopping, and even though she's probably already tried everything, that's what they said of Bowie after his Ziggy Stardust days were over and everyone said he was washed up.
I think what a huge difference is that Katy is always seemingly surrounded by guys who want to fuck her, while Gaga is surrounded by well...that, but also guys that want to embody her in a sense, that want to be 'castrated' as Mulvey would put it just so they can be fabulous for a few minutes and wear that sideways crown. 

If you want to read 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema' and I highly suggest you do, you can find it here: Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema

Below I'm putting two videos from each starlet that I think perfectly encapsulate their identities as pop stars and also as women: 

Really Distasteful Halloween Costume Ideas

Yes, we are all aware that just like Sarah Palin in 2008, this year Miley's VMA outfit is going to be everywhere this Halloween. But did you ever think to dress up like Sarah Palin's child with downs? Didn't think so? Or perhaps just Miley's tongue? Here are some ideas that are sure to be not PC at all and really work as a conversation starter.

1. Amy Winehouse's Ghost. If you're into really looking terrifying for Halloween what better way to start. Amy looked like a walking corpse a long time before she kicked the bucket, so you wouldn't even have to work so much on the 'undead' look. Just pale yourself up a bit, it helps if you're seriously thin, and then do the beehive hairdo and the Cleopatra eyes. Or you can come as her date and bring a beehive wig duct taped to a broomstick. 

2. Casey Anthony. Now this is going to get even the liveliest, friendliest party all riled up. Get the big fly-eye sunglasses, a notebook, and a smug look on your face and if you want to go balls to the wall tasteless you can get a doll, cover it with death paint and scream 'not guilty' into people's faces. 

3. Melissa Gorga. For those of you not in the know, Melissa was a new edition to the Real Housewives of New Jersey clusterfuck being Teresa Guidice's sister-in-law and also the youngest and prettiest of all of them. So this one is easy, as much body glitter and fake tanning as you can find, a really skimpy outfit and try to self-autotune your voice whenever speaking. Also, it really helps if you carry around a book that you've made a hard cover of that reads 'I Advocate Marital Rape'

4. Don Draper's Conscience. This one is easy. Just wear all black, or a cape and say it's an invisibility cloak because he doesn't have one. Get it?

And I just had to leave you with this...

Enough with the Open Letters! French Films are Exploitive. We Get It.

Lea Seydoux in Blue is the Warmest Color (2013)

So if you religiously check Indiewire.com every morning like I do, you'll see that the director of the sleeper hit Blue is the Warmest Color (2013), Abdellatif Kechiche has penned an open letter to its star, France's new 'it' girl Lea Seydoux, who called the filming of said film an experience that was both trapping and disrespectful in terms of dealing with its racy sex scenes. Guess what folks, without racy sex scenes there would be no French cinema to speak of let's just be honest here. Especially now-a-days with directors like Christophe Honore and Catherine Brellait leading the charge of how-much-gratuitious-nudity can we cram into a 2 hour film and the answer is...a lot. But you know what? With such content comes responsibility, and I'm going to side with Seydoux here. To be fully nude surrounded by grips, electricians, script supervisors and who else is no fun, and to have to do it take after take, can be exhausting, not like I would know, but I'm sure at this point shooting porn is a more wholesome experience than going full on French.

Kechiche basically blamed her for trying to destroy the very same film she helped make into a success and also not to mention helped to win the Palme D'Or. He writes, "Miss Seydoux, who after having repeatedly thanking me publicly and privately and having wept in my arms at Cannes for allowing her to take on this noble role … has, against all odds and all personal coherence, radically changed her attitude towards me." 

In his letter Kechiche calls Seydoux 'spoiled and opportunistic' um, exaggerate much?

So why don't we just calm the fuck down and take a look at the mistakes we might have made as directors. Actors are by definition fragile individuals who look to directors not only for guidance but for comfort, and not exploitation, unless of course you like that sort of thing. And now, I'm going to name a perfect example of someone who refuses to follow these guidelines and has the balls to blame his actors for not 'being comfortable'. 

20 year old Maria Schneider and Marlon Brando in Last Tango in Paris (1972)

One, Bernardo Bertolucci has been accused of this very thing on several occasions. The first and most infamous case I can remember is when Maria Schneider, Marlon Brando's co-star in the then X-Rated Last Tango In Paris (1972) famously said that in the scene where Brando's character sodomizes her with butter lubricant (there's honestly no wholesome way for me to describe this folks, sorry) that she felt that not only was she being raped by Brando, but by Bertolucci himself who just let it happen without asking her not even once if she was comfortable, if she wanted to stop and catch her breath, if it was all too much, you know, everything we as girls would like to be asked in scenarios like that...even if it's simulated. It's just polite.

This misogynistic behavior on Bertolucci's part continued up until The Dreamers was released in 2004 and sex-pot Eva Green basically said the exact same things. It's a film I've seen on a few occasions and I can tell you that yeah, the sex is pretty gratuitous, and no one had to work harder at it (no pun intended) than Eva Green, she had the most nude scenes, the most sex scenes, the most bodily fluid involving scenes as gross as that sounds, and she said that sometimes even though she's a seasoned professional and full fledged Frenchie, it was hard, and she felt that she received no guidance or comfort from her director who basically sat behind the camera and watched like some perv with a box of donuts and a pair of night-vision goggles. 

Eva Green in one of her most erotic scenes in The Dreamers (2004)

 I believe that Bertolucci is someone who makes gratuitously sexual films for his own personal pleasure, kind of like the James Spader character in Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989) so he can whack off to them later, he just happens to be really good at it and call it art, and let's face it a lot of French directors seems to go down that road.

So in conclusion; Kechiche - You should be thankful that Lea Seydoux who is huge not only in France but currently in America even participated in that film, and without her quite honestly I don't think the Palme D'or was within your reach. Enough with the open letters, there's this cool devise called the telephone, pick it up after a bottle of Bordeaux and go nuts. But also realize you are not blameless here brother. Here's a link to his open letter: 'Blue is the Warmest Color' Filmmaker Pens Enraged Open Letter; Slams 'Spoiled,' 'Opportunistic' Star Lea Seydoux

Trailers below: 

The Death of Glitter: Great Films About Glam Rock

Jonathan Rhys-Meyers as the Ziggy Stardust inspired character, Maxwell Daemon

Let's face it, Glam Rock is nothing more than a distant memory and the music of Bryan Ferry, The Sweet, Slade, T. Rex, and others is no longer played even on rock stations. It was an offshoot of the rebellious hippie trends that recognized the hypocrisy of a movement based on political revolution that never actually manifested, and decided to exploit the fashion, spirit, and aesthetic of the sexual revolution that was also taking place.

It's ironic that the one time we as a society became reflective of that was in the 90's mainly, not sure why, Bowie had just released a new album and newbies were all introduced to the music of Iggy Pop when Trainspotting came out in 1996. I wouldn't call this reflexivity disingenuous because behind the camera were some of the best storytellers working today like Todd Haynes and Neil Jordan.

I remember watching Velvet Goldmine for the first time when it first came out in 1998 and being like 'yeah, awesome, glitter, free love, sex drugs and rock n' roll' but then I saw it again when it was taught in one of my classes at NYU and introduced to us by our learned professor as 'his favorite film'. I began to understand that like the Glam Rock music, Velvet Goldmine was a film rooted in the deepest of hedonistic, stylized and self-reflexive nature. In fact, if you do enough research for the film, you'll find out that a good majority of the script comes verbatim from the work of Oscar Wilde, whom in the film, Todd Haynes singles out as the 'inventor' of Glam Rock. 

Johnny in costume being coached by director Todd Haynes, keep in mind he was only 19 when he was cast in that role. And given how complex and layered it was, it was a tour-de-force performance.

Thereby Glam Rock was a rebellion. It was a movement that dained to be daring, incendiary, and throw out all repository hypocrisies and norms we as a society had picked up, and for its idealism, that's perhaps why it had such a short run in the mid-70's and never really fully resurfaced. Yes David Bowie just came out with a new album but his Ziggy Stardust days are far behind him. One can really say that Glam Rock started with The Velvet Underground and their connections to Andy Warhol who was all about exploitation of the fabulous and the non-boring in life which was parlayed into a devil-may-care movement where men proudly donned glitter eye-shadow and lacquered hair, openly practiced bisexuality as a means of being sexually ambivalent, and created some of the best, outlandish, and moving music ever. 

I'm going to list three films from the past 20 or so years that accurately, if not brilliantly portrayed this movement and then leave you with clips. As I said before Velvet Goldmine (1999) is nothing short of a masterpiece, both in storytelling, but also in aesthetic. It utilizes not only the work of Oscar Wilde but also a soundtrack based on covers from one of the most seminal Glam Rock bands of the 70's; Roxy Music. It's masterfully acted and directed, not to mention written with a narrative that copies that of Citizen Kane (1941) where a lowly journalist is sent on a mission to find out what happened in the mysterious shooting of a Bowie-esque figure that in his time encapsulated everything people wanted out of their pop icons. What's great about it, is that it's told in modern time and flashbacks to the magical times of the 70's. That time is aesthetically presented as colorful, magical, and whimsical, while the modernity is bland, dystopian, and harsh. Meaning to say that without the effervescence of those influences, we have all returned to a dull and mundane existence, and let's face it we really have, and no Lady Gaga has not been our messiah.

The second is a Neil Jordan film called Breakfast on Pluto (2005) which takes place in war-torn Ireland fraught with protests and attacks by the IRA. In the midst of everything a young androgynous student named Patrick 'Kitten' Braden (Cillian Murphy) who is completely ambivalent to the turmoil and decides to go to swinging London looking for his mother in order to piece together the cracks in his identity. 

Cillian Murphy in drag for his role in Breakfast on Pluto (2005) and to make up for his lack of breasts he often refers to himself as a 'svelte gamine'.

The third, is not so much great of a film, but it heavily features the music of Roxy Music, and uses that as inspiration in a lot of the scenes. My favorite song of all time is 'If there is Something' written by Bryan Ferry and performed by Roxy Music. It speaks to me because it has such a deepness. It starts off as a jaunty little tune about a man falling in love with a woman and then there is an outcry which seems to come out of no where in which the man proclaims his love in the most heartbreaking way, and then there is about a 5 minute interlude which seems menacing and all the while you're wondering where is this going? After which, there is a lament about a love lost, or a reflection of an old man on the great love he once had. I had literally thought this song had faded into obscurity forever ago but apparently it still has resonance in a film starring Daniel Craig and Claire Forlani called Flashbacks of a Fool (2008). Again, the movie is wildly flawed but just for those moments I adore it. Enough from me, enjoy the clips.

I Left My Heart In Dresden

I even dyed my hair bright red to match Amanda Palmer's which I only learned later, takes forever to get out.

Let's take it down a notch. I've decided to steer my blog into some more personal stuff of late, limericks, funny stories, yada yada. But not to worry it won't get boring people. I've been very nostalgic for New York of late, well not even the bustling hub of Manhattan but for two beautiful and wonderful friends that I still keep in touch with even though one is in the jazzy illumination of New Orleans, and the other one literally on the other side of this sad little planet, China. We made quick girlfriends in our little dingy dorms known to its residents as the G-Dubs at the School of the Arts for the one year I was there before transferring to NYU. 

We all had similar tastes and were wildly creative and loved to hang out at watering holes discussing art like we were the new generation of beats or something. As long as the drinks were at a fair price we could stay all night, because we always had shit to talk about, and all the time in the world. Our school loved to throw hedonistic Halloween parties (hey it was a liberal arts college, what did you expect?) I mean one year they threw it at a club in Chelsea called, and I'm not making this up; 'Duvet' so basically it was a darkened room in some cellar and the only thing to sit on were beds. Combine that with about 200 drunk college students and you've got yourself a full fledged clusterfuck...literally. I believe at this point I was already at NYU and invited one of the girls and another friend to get ready with me and also, of course pre-game on cheap wine. Me and my friend decided to go as The Dresden Dolls; a band we both greatly admired and hey made for a great Halloween costume that was easy to put together yourself. I wanted to be Amanda Palmer solely for purpose of being able to shave my eye brows and fill them in with a Gothic pattern in a sharpie ( I was 22, stop judging), and she had no problem with being her lover and counterpoint, Brian Viglione because she had always wanted to dress up in drag. I had the most interesting friends I really did. None of this slutty nurse or butterfly bullcrap. Let's go balls to the wall with this mother. Little did we know that The Dresden Dolls was a very popular costume especially on the New York scene, but luckily that year we were the only ones that pulled it off. And very well I might say. 

We did pretty good no? And yes of course I had the striped panty-hose and baby doll shoes.

I also had an urge to be Palmer because I wanted to know what it was like to be such a beautiful bad-ass just for a few drunken hours, and we got a lot of praise at the party. So today I'm putting on a soundtrack of my favorite Dresden Dolls songs and thinking about my two good friends that made my first year in New York nothing short of magical.

Post Script: A year later, I went to see a play that my friend produced (also in Chelsea) based on the creative catalog of The Dresden Dolls and it was actually very interesting. Apparently their music is not only artistic weirdo's like me. 

I'll leave you with some fun videos. My favorite is the one where they battle Panic! At the Disco set to their song; 'Backstabber'. 

The song that started it all...

Britney's Gone Proletariat...You Better Work Bitch

Still from 'Radar' almost Kate Middleton but not quite. Nice binoculars btdubs.

Britney Spears has probably never picked up a book in her life that did start with the words 'Chicken Soup For' much less read the Marx manifesto, but I'm starting to notice a strange trend in her work, and I'm wondering if it's just out of rebellion, sickness of privilege and entitlement, or she's gone full on Communist on our asses.

The trend started a few years back with the release of her single 'Radar' in 2009 off her Circus album, which was a triumph by the way. The song was a catchy weird melodic tune that alluded to someone Britney was non-chalantly pursuing because he appealed to her. The video however gave me pause. It starts out with her driving a Bentley to some English country house that rivals Downton Abbey and meeting sweater-vest wearing, shoe-shining, vanilla spoiled rich boy for a weekend in the country for some polo matches. How Madonna of her. She is dressed very appropriately for the occasion, she probably asked her wardrobe stylist to look like Kate Middleton but with a Britney flair. She sits atop a big patio and while vanilla gold-plate man tries to woo her by giving her diamonds (they are a girl's best friend), she keeps being distracted by some scruffy Josh Holloway from Lost looking guy who's gearing up for said polo match. I mean he's playing polo so he's not exactly a chimney sweep, but he don't have no mansion in the hills to entertain his lady friends. He's just a scruffy sweaty hot guy that's really good at polo. The next scene is the match itself and while Ritchie Rich is arguing about who won, scruff-daddy woo's Britney until she throws her diamond necklace (how wasteful, keep that shit, love fades things are forever) and they run away together. Ergo hottness wins over money...but you know, it's nice if the guy's got both. 

Britney dressed to the nines at the polo match but her mind is somewhere else, as she repeatedly points out.

Then I saw this trend reappear when her single 'Criminal' started climbing the charts in 2011. Also taking place in England, no idea why, she's cast opposite her then actual fiance Jason Trawick who plays a tattooed, mean-streets biker, with a gun fetish who rescues her from an uptight British bitch of a boyfriend who insists she go to parties with him and act like a damn lady. I have no idea where this came from. Jason Trawick was a former agent at WME, he's not a bad boy people, he barely has a personality, but you know what, a few fake giant tattoos, some hair growth, and that crazy six-pack he worked for made him look like he would beat the shit out of a guy for looking at you the wrong way, which he does in the video. It's a Bonnie and Clyde-themed thing, they rob convenience stores and make out, like a lot, while she sings about how she knows he's no good but she's still in love with him even though he's a...say it with me...criminal. Then they kiss in a blaze of bullets when the bobbies catch them (that's British for the po-po) but miraculously nothing hits either of them and they escape. Again, giving up a life of empty luxury to risk everything with some guy you just met who looks cool on a motorcycle. Style over substance, I get it. 

Wait a minute, he rides a Harley AND has a gun? Jackpot!

And now she's driving the point home with her newly released single; 'Work Bitch' (September 16th, 2013), fuck the video (which is ridiculous and totally under-budget for someone like her). The lyrics say it all; 'You want a hot body? Want a Bugatti? Want a Maserati? You better work bitch'. Yes, those are all superficial things that I want more than anything, seriously someone buy me a fucking Maserati, but still she's saying that nothing comes easy, even 'parties in France' and you have to work for what you want, and every time I drive through Beverly Hills I have to remind myself of that to keep from crying. I'm sure it's got something to do with the fact that she almost lost everything and is kind of poking fun at that. She lost things that were of actual importance to people like custody of her children, so she's being somewhat ironic, either that or I'm giving her too much credit here, but I think she's smart enough...yes I did just fucking say that. So basically driving the point home, Britney is telling us that this lifestyle that we all want (didn't you watch The Bling Ring (2013)) Oh you didn't? Yeah no one did) Anyway, this lifestyle ain't all it's cracked up to be. And the important things in life you have to work for...also scruffy guys on motorcycles are way hotter than a man who has everything except an interesting personality and a living soul. 

Below the videos for the aforementioned singles. See if you can point out the similarities. It's like Britney homework. Which is the best kind.

The King is Dead...Long Live, Ahhh Fuck It

Schamus wearing his professor's bow tie, sits outside Dodge Hall

So as you may or may not have heard there was what we like to call a clusterfuck of a coup d'état over at Focus Features, and visionary producer and distributor; James Schamus was basically let go with Universal forcing Focus to relocate to Los Angeles under the guise of some other guy whom no one has ever heard of, and now Focus is going to suck more than the government shutdown. This hits no one harder than someone like me, and I'm not showing off here, but got to not know him personally but at least pick his brain for a semester during grad school when he taught my Narrative in Film class in a tiny dingy classroom at Dodge Hall at Columbia University in the Fall of 2008. 

It was the hardest single class I've ever had, and also the most rewarding. It showed me that there was hope for the film industry as long as visionaries like Schamus were still big players in the game, and really understood the medium better than the money-hounds. 

Schamus and one of his favorite collaborators; Ang Lee. They made three films together.

Here's what I THINK happened, because no one really knows. I'm sure it will be made public soon. Focus, though being owned by Universal has maintained its integrity throughout and also its loyalty to independent film. Universal was feeling antsy and decided out with the old and in with the new. Focus made it's home in New York City where film is still appreciated as an art form, so they decided well, to hell with that, we'll sell our souls and move the whole company to Los Angeles, leaving Schamus and everyone he ever made famous or important back in NYC to fend for themselves. 

A little history about Schamus. He started out with his own company called Good Machine, and personally pioneered the New Queer Cinema movement along with producers like Christine Vachon (another visionary) and her company Killer Films, which is also New York based. Together, they released the films of Gus Van Sant, Todd Haynes, Tom Kalin, Derek Jarman, and others, building a repore within the indie world as mavericks of cinema. 

Schamus and fellow renegades of cinema, director John Waters and producer Christin Vachon.

Once Schamus started getting more notice, he took things into a more mainstream direction and founded Focus Features, which gave him the opportunity to take small independent films that no one else would touch like Francois Ozon's masterpiece Swimming Pool (2003), and Todd Haynes' definitive work Far from Heaven (2004) and managed not only to make them financially successful, but to win them all kinds of acclaim from the Palm d'Or (for The Pianist (2002)), to multiple Oscars and nominations (For Milk (2008) and (Brokeback Mountain (2005)) all the while maintaining what Gene Kelly repeats somewhat ironically in Singin' in the Rain (1952) ...dignity, always dignity. 

Brokeback Mountain (2005), a film who's meteoric rise and lasting affect on cinema culture would not have been possible without the guidance of James Schamus.

If I could just open things up here for a minute and speak to James Schamus directly, I would say that you sir, were a paragon, and an iconoclast of cinematic distribution and production in a sea of people who just want to make a quick buck. You have always held up your high standards and never given in to pressure. You've made successes out of the most unpredictable situations, and helped some of the best films of the last two decades be seen and appreciated. Focus will not be the same without you, and neither will the realm of American cinema. Without you, many masterpieces that only you would see the potential in will falter into nothingness, and that is why your departure from Focus is so genuinely sad on all of us. But I at least know that this is not the last we'll hear of Schamus. I have a feeling he'll stick to his principals as he always has and go back to his indie roots, championing the underdog, and remaining an integral cog in the scope of cinema. We all wish you the best. 

Below some trailers for Focus films: 

Sinéad to Miley: Stop Being a Video Ho

Climb off that wrecking ball and clean yourself up at once young lady.

Miley's latest video for her new single 'Wrecking Ball' has people in more public outrage than when she appeared semi-nude showing her whole back (what a whore) in Vanity Fair at 16. This video is pretty racy folks, I was kind of disgusted myself. Not from the fact that it has no artistic merit and hits the wrecking ball over the head too much with it's metaphors, or that Miley is swinging naked from a wrecking ball, like any of us need to see that shit. No, it's that her and her director the renowned photographer Terry Richardson, known for taking incendiary and often nude photographs of salacious superstars, dared to claim that the video was based on Sinéad O'Connor's seminal and still unforgettable minimalist music video for 'Nothing Compares 2 U'. Yes, she was the first one to use numbers and letters instead of actual words, deal with it.

In essence, Miley is likening herself to Sinéad which is simply ridiculous. First of all, Sinéad actually wrote all of her music, second of all, if we're talking about stirring up contraversy, Sinéad has this one in the bag. Tweking on Robin Thicke, yeah it's disgusting. But have you torn up a picture of the pope on live television? I don't think so. And I'm sorry as shocking as Sinéad's behavior was in the early 90's, she still maintained her dignity. She didn't simulate fellatio to a mallet, which is I'm sorry so unsanitary, especially if in the prior scene you were using said mallet to break cinder blocks...it's a weird video. 

Terry Richardson with Miley Cyrus. A match made in contrived controversy to get back at one's ex-boyfriend.

I get it Miley, you broke up with your boyfriend whom you were engaged to for a hot minute, and you're only 20 fucking years old. I'm sure that's how old most people are when they tie the knot in the bible belt, but you'll get over it. And as Sinéad is saying, careful what you wish for because basically girl, you're being pimped by your producers and your record company. You no longer have the protective shield of Disney that would cover your ass even if you ran over a person while high on meth with two liters of vodka in your system. Now you're on your own, and no one, believe me no one, wants to see your naked ass swinging back and forth on anything, even Britney or Christina during her X-tina phase didn't stoop so low, at least give some kind of context if you're going full tilt boogie. I remember Christina's video for 'Dirrty' which was like a pop-culture fatwa against bubble-gum pop, where she donned ass-less chaps and simulated a bare-knuckle boxing match with some other chick grinding on everything that moved, but that was par-for-the-course of the content of the song. 

Perhaps the only similarity between Miley and Sinéad O'Connor is their lack of hair.

This song is about heartbreak, depression, and loss, which is what 'Nothing Compares 2 U' is essentially about, but they didn't need any gimicks to make it one of the most memorable videos of all time, they just needed Sinéad to belt it as emotionally as possible, which is what she did. And then she gave the finger to the music industry and became some kind of weird priest in a break-off Catholic sect, whatever doesn't matter. But, seriously Miley we get that you're all grown up, but it's becoming a little to gratuitous. Yes, you're easier on the eyes than Lena Dunham but we really don't need to see you naked all the time, just because Terry Richardson says it's ok. Here is Sinéad's open letter to Miley: Sinéad O'Connor's open letter to Miley Cyrus

The two videos below: