Miley Cyrus is the Absolute Worst
The first thing I want to say is that I hate myself for writing about Miley Cyrus. Believe me, I don’t consider this an ideal way to spend my afternoon. Or any other part of the day, actually. If you asked me to write a list of the things I’d rather be doing than writing about Miley Cyrus, “dying of needle torture” would be the only entry. And even though I’m not exactly sure what death by needle entails, I’d have a long think about biting the bullet and accepting my fate anyway. Writing about Miley Cyrus is awful.
The second thing I want to say is I think people should be free to make fools of themselves. I don’t care what strange, desperate, erotic failure of a dance Miley Cyrus chose to perform at a televised awards show. I’m a big proponent of that sort of thing. Go to town, I say! This post is not about twerking, or someone trying to adopt a fake hyper-sexualized image to escape some other fake hyper-innocent image. I have no outrage. It’s all in the game, I guess. (Truthfully, I don’t really know that game. I’ve never attempted erotic dancing on a televised awards show before. If I did, I’d probably have a much stronger take.)
But the third thing I want to say is less forgiving, because Miley Cyrus just mocked a person for her mental illness, and that is about the worst fucking thing you can do. Hence, Miley Cyrus is the worst.
If you missed this whole saga, and I hope you did, it all started when Cyrus told Rolling Stone that the video for Wrecking Ball was inspired by Sinead O’Connor’s Nothing Compares 2 U. The main similarity between the two is that both have close-ups of women singing the lyrics to their own songs. The main difference is that while O’Connor’s song is beautiful and the video is classy and it was written by Prince, Cyrus’ song is pop garbage and the video contains shots of her licking a sledgehammer and it was written by a team of eight robots in a Hollywood cellar. But again, I’m not here to judge any of that. I will not legislate a human being’s license to look kind of like an idiot. I myself have looked like an idiot before, and plan to do so again. (Note: My example didn’t involve a sledgehammer.)
Sinead O’Connor, though, wasn’t having it. She was worried about Miley, and wrote an open letter on Facebook urging her to stop being pimped out by people who only care about making money off her image. In all honesty, I think this was probably not the best move on O’Connor’s part. The letter was ranty and self-righteous, and even if her intentions were good and her point was spot-on (which I think it was), you have to ask: Was an open letter the best way to handle things? I mean, Cyrus had complimented her, and O’Connor responded by throwing her under the bus in public. It wasn’t great.
Cyrus struck back, which you have to expect from someone who is pretty obviously insecure and was just insulted out of the blue. But the way she struck back…that’s what got ugly. Her strategy was to compare O’Connor to Amanda Bynes, both of whom have histories of mental illness, and to post a series of desperate tweets O’Connor wrote two years ago when she was on the verge of a breakdown. The tweets represented O’Connor’s worst moments; a fragile, dangerous zone when she had to summon a lot of courage to reach out and try to work her way through some severe mental trauma. It’s a difficult, wrenching thing to read, and to actually take it all in and then laugh is such an insanely heartless reaction that the only proper emotion to feel is fury.