The Case For Miley Cyrus

Hating on everyone hating on Miley.

To adequately sum up how I feel about all the recent Miley haters:

Immediately following the MTV VMAs last weekend, which New York so graciously hosted (Barclays = one of the only reasons I travel to Brooklyn), a firestorm of judgment and hatred was ejaculated all over Hannah Montana’s face and has yet to go limp. It seems “We Can’t Stop” throwing major shade Miley’s way despite all the mediocrity in our lives that we could instead focus on. I like slutty Miley, and this isn’t the first time I’ve admitted it.

Hear me out.

Miley made MTV fetch again. The last time anyone talked about what happened at the VMAs with such fervor was when Britney chaotically stumbled around the stage the stage during her “comeback” performance in 2007 - which was much harder to watch than a skinny twenty-year-old bending over and sticking her tongue out. At least Miley didn’t have to be guided around the stage by her backup dancing teddy bears. While many were/are outraged by Miley’s spectacle, I was positively influenced to get on her level. That’s right - she drove me to drink and possibly dance on some tables…in her honor. Conversely, Britney made me want to hide in the shower and pretend the blood on the razor was from failed attempts at completely smooth kneecaps (impossible by the way - you’ll bleed out trying to prove me wrong). This was the MTV Video Music Awards - people are shocked by something MTV produced? Well, this is a first.

What are celebrities if not cynosures existing solely for our merriment - individuals idolized so that we might feel better about our own mistakes? When did we start looking to them for moral guidance? As long as no one is drastically harmed, I’m all for it - entertain me harder. Miley wasn’t on stage making terrible decisions that resulted in negative consequences affecting society (i.e. violence, discrimination, babies, etc.). She didn’t bite the head off of a living animal. She didn’t even kick an audience member in the face. She simply popped around flaunting her hot bod. Yeah, I’ve seen the pictures of what those latex panties did to her ass, but let’s be real, you couldn’t even get those drawers past your knees, ladies, and gents, what have you woken up next to lately? Lacking squats or not, you know you’d tap Miley more aggressively than a game of Whac-A-Mole. The slut-outrage I mildly understand (in my experience, most people are overly prudish), but let’s stop with the body shaming.

For the mothers upset that their children were negatively influenced by Miley’s performance, here’s a thought, don’t let your ten-year-old watch the VMAs or film your babies twerking in hopes for internet stardom (let’s be honest, those children were all accidents anyway). Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to watch MTV, and look at how that turned out. Exactly - negative outcomes develop whether you like it or not. I don’t blame Britney for how I ended up. I blame my mother. So, don’t blame Miley; blame your parenting. I do worse things on a Tuesday than Miley did on that stage, and you’re fooling yourself if you think your kids are going to continue to find enjoyment in the musical stylings of Yo Gabba Gabba! forever.

To Miley, I say thank you. Thank you for epitomizing my 20s perfectly. Thank you for the DGAF attitude. Thank you for doing you. The sexualized ride down memory lane was riveting, and I only hope you’ve influenced companies to begin the manufacturing of foam finger vibrators and strap-ons.

Not convinced? Well, consider that JT (read: God) gave his blessing. I rest my case.

Twerk on, slutty Miley. Twerk on.

“Remember only God can judge ya. Forget the haters cause somebody loves ya.” - Miley

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