AXIS OF SHEVIL (A Brief Exejeeeeeezus of a certain awards program performance that I'm losing sleep over for not losing sleep over)

It's just wordplay, people. The Axis of Shevil, of course, is Britney/Paris/Lindsay, and I don't think anything more needs to be said of 'em for the purposes of this post.

Except Britney.

I need to talk about this stupid thing. Stupid stupid stupid stupid. Thing. Everyone. Everyone comes out very ugly in this whole thing (tho Britney still looks good, y'all just jealous). Metallic VMA? No, doesn't even get the self-destruction mythos cred! It's a culture collapsing with exhaustion. I mean seriously, it's gotta be hard to riff on Mean Girls to make a living, right? Draining? A little...y'know pointless?

But everyone's riffing on Mean Girls, from the gossip blogs to the anti-gossip-blog gossip blogs to Nick Sylvester, who's kind of like the Lindsay Lohan Tina Fey in this whole mess. And where am I in all this? I feel like my dad or something. Who cares? I've got shit to do.

NO! I am not my father. (Nor am I my Big Ather.) I AM ME. Still me...uh, yes. Still me. (Still, now? Now? Yes.) And I really don't/do give a shit, just like I didn't/did give a shit about Paris. But something's different -- there's nothing for me to hang on to here; there's nothing (no thing) to support.

Here's what I tried to say first:

This wasn't *that* bad, was it? I mean, aside from her not lip syncing very well and the dance not being well choreographed, I didn't think she was any more embarrassing than anyone else is in recent VMA history. Thought she looked good!

STRIKE ONE. TRY AGAIN.

Part of me is reluctant to judge her so harshly when everyone else seems pretty much gleeful to do it.

CUTE BUT YOU TRIED THAT ONE ALREADY. STRIKE TWO.

I'm reminded of Lester Bangs saying something about how "we may well be watching a human being slowly commit suicide," and how that attitude is being somewhat projected onto Britney (how accurately I wouldn't know), but in a way that robs her of any ability to INTEND to be slowly committing suicide, hence robs her of any discernible "message" (not that killing yourself because you can is much of a message.) Tho it's not so much suicide as a sort of collapse from exhaustion; a total denial of life almost as a default position when nothing else seems to have worked. More like throwing your hands up in the air and taking a long nap wherever you happen to be standing. Running on empty, maybe.

YOU'RE OUT. OF ENERGY. AND IDEAS. WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE.

Maybe we're all kind of exhausted. Maybe that's what happens when school starts, especially after you've dipped your toes into the real world and pretty much wussed out. And why shouldn't I? I've got issues, people, I need health insurance and security or I will not feel very good.

Jayzus, what an idiot she was. Whatever. Oh, she's telling the world to fuck off! No! No one's doing anything! And I can't ignore it because there's nowhere else for me to go right now, except to bitch about semiotics or something. Not like there aren't enough people who do that already.

Yeah, we're all exhausted. Something isn't working right now, and everyone knows it. One thing that isn't working: not enough Haloscan conversations. Period, let alone there being any good ones.

I brought up Ashlee Simpson during a break the other day, and someone said, "oh I don't know about her." I expected her to follow up with some dismissive jaw-dropper or other, like "trashy queen of the knock-off-Avril/grunge-lite rock ballad." But no! She said, "her first album was pretty good, but after that...I dunno."

HOLY FUCK! That's the first time I have ever had a reasonable conversation with someone about Ashlee Simpson in the real (non-internet) world who I didn't try to brainwash at some point (Ian took it in stride). It was seven words! "Her. First. Album. Was. Pretty. Good. But." That should be the name of her (print version) autobiography. "HER FIRST ALBUM WAS PRETTY GOOD BUT" [insert the rest of her life/career]. Reductive, sure, but I mean I can deal with reductive! We can talk from here! I don't have to ignore this person! It's great! I mean I can talk for an hour about this shit and learn nothing -- basically just spin the wheels and get out some residual ADD juice. Maybe end up knowing LESS afterward, like I spilled brain fluid on the ground outta my big mouth. I NODDED. I ASSENTED WITH NOD. NOD. ASSENT. YES. HER FIRST ALBUM WAS PRETTY GOOD BUT.

What kind of world would we live in if Ashlee Simpson's first album was pretty good but? Would we all turn in to hyperactive (wo)manchildren with bug juice ooze dripping from our chins? Would the world slip a notch further down toward CREEPY? Would the music industry dust itself off and try again? Would this blog turn into a zip file dumpsite, what with there being nothing left to say?

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

But! Ashlee's First Album Was Pretty Good.

Let's try to remember this in the future. That's the absolute conversational minimum from which everything needs to start. Yes. I mean, I disagree, because her first album is more than pretty good. And there are reasons for this. Which have been articulated and will be articulated again. But it might save me from yet another hiatus. Or maybe that's just my problem.