Ok, A Gun Was Not Held To My Head

Ultimately, a nefarious madman sporting a curled mustache and a top hat did not magically appear in my home to tie me down, so the fault lies squarely with me. All the same, I did watch the VMAs, and whole, tangible chunks of my soul were burned away in the process. It is not inaccurate --and I am certainly man enough to admit-- that the quasi-concert-masquerading-as-a-terrible-award show is not (and perhaps never was) for me at my age and range of tastes. But that precludes that events such as the much ballyhooed *NSYNC reunion, the worst kept secret in the music bizznass this year, should not have been watched regardless of the fact that things like that are targeted to my age group. Never mind the fact that it also precludes that the other quasi-concert-masquerading-as-a-terrible-award show (the Grammys) is more my wheelhouse, even though it is the telecast joke that it is. I'd almost go so far as to say that the VMAs are more respectable than the Grammy Awards if only for the fact that they never had enough respect for themselves to lose to begin with.

But enough about truth. Let's briefly run down the events that stick out to the best of my recollection. The only way to watch the VMAs is to make sure you forget it, so I was good and drunk through most of it. I'm just going to list things as I recall them.

I'm sure Lady GAH! GAH! would approve, because her extreme close up in the beginning was made to be absolutely hilarious. Don't believe me? After the show was over, MTV immediately reran it with no break, so I graced myself with another helping of the LGG performance whily My PlayStation loaded. You don't have too look that hard to notice that she was fighting back a smile in the worst way through that idiotic nun walk to the stage. What I took away from the whole thing is that she is no longer heavy set, or something. Of course, I had Kevin Hart to remind me of this intermittently for the next two and a half hours, but whatever.

Evidently, only 10 people made it to the show this year, plus Throngs of Assholes (ToA) to make up the rest of the crowd: Will Smith and co., Rihanna, 1 Direction (whom count as a single person as they are hive mind), GaGa in her seat, Justin Timberlake's parents, Taylor Swift, and the supreme idiot that agreed to accompany her to the show. (Come on, man! Don't you know you're just fodder for another bullshit breakup anthem? Every other dude in that arena knows it; she dated them all! What's wrong with you?!)

I know it's one thing to cram as many people together on stage as possible, but I kind of feel cheated when each person only gets to sing about a third of one verse of whatever song they're currently famous for/ hawking. However, in the case of Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke, I wanted that shit show finished as soon as possible. Let's break those down individually:

• Miley Cyrus is, and I use this term clinically, fucking disgusting. I don't postulate this because I find her about as attractive as foot fungus. No, it's the waif-ish tongue wagging and forced, putrid "sexuality." I feel bad for child stars trying to make a clean break from their past image, I really do. But I don't feel bad misguided stage productions of teddy bears and faux nakedness. It's not exactly classified information that someone from Camp Cyrus paid off Maxim to secure her place at the top of their yearly list of HOT CHICKZZ, but it's performances like this that are born just to scream "LOOK! I'M DTF!"make me (and La Smith Familia) want to vomit.
• Robin Thicke. Forever the Tony Bennett to Timberlake's Frank Sinatra. But wait! Blurred Lines! A catchy song (grumblegrumbleGotToGiveItUpgrumble) made famous by a video full of nekkid ladies! Is His Thickeness changing the game? Is he the Stones to JT's Beatles? Does pop music need distinctions like that? Too many questions. I like Blurred Lines, even though he was forced to plant his dong behind fucking disgusting Miley Cyrus while dressed like an extra from The Prisoner for the sake of it. Yes, forced. There was a sniper.

That was most understated performance of Yeezy's career. As he has shown me photos of family gatherings where he painted himself like a Maori hunter because it looked best in the lighting scheme for his pyrotechnic-heavy performance of Happy Birthday on his mother's 39th birthday, I think I have some good authority here. I like this trend of yours, Kanye. Let your music speak for itself for a while.

EDIT: Aesop Rocky is a self-serving, dim-witted fuck cheese. I can't believe that I forgot about this earlier, but don't ever stand next to the only openly gay athlete in any of the three major American sports and remind everyone that M'ALBEM DROPZ. Yes, I get the fact that you're introducing the act that won the bullshitty "socially conscious" award, and that's just as back-pattingly self-serving as you are, but that doesn't give you the right to, essentially, piss on everyone else's parade here, specifically the guy standing about 8 inches to your left with four tons worth of courage. I don't mind if the entire world hears your new album, AR. I just want them all, every single one of them, to pirate it off of bit torrents. I was drunk last night, so, naturally, today is a little rough for me. But after I flush my body of its toxins I'll be a new man in a few hours. You will still be Aesop Rocky, supreme ass hole.

Just after his 45-minute medley of hits (which was a clinic on how you Crush It), my wife calmly asked if I thought that JT was an attractive man. This gave me a little pause. In fairness, I don't find him to be Christopher Walken in Batman Returns, but if it was my gut answering, then (provided that I am either female or gay to give an accurate reading, neither of which are true) I would find him to be a good looking guy in a bar, and that's about it. We found ourselves agreeing that it was persona that has given Timberlake his attractiveness, not unlike many stars before him. But star he is, and for a guy that only has three solo albums in the last decade (placing him in respectable circles that include Peter Gabriel and Tool), he proves that quality in no way means prolific. That performance, though, holy cats. That was a lot of booty shaking, friend. I knew going into it that the whole *NSYNC reunion thing was only going to wind up being 33 seconds, much like the Destiny's Child mishmash at the Super Bowl last year, so my expectations for something dazzling from that end were reasonably low. But as a whole, I was pretty impressed, bad sound be damned.

Bruno Mars is a cool guy.

The entire night, MTV was assuring me that Katy Perry will perform her Biggest Hit for the First Time. This sounded dubious. Evidence: She wasn't around when she recorded it? She never rehearsed the song prior to both that, and tonight's main event? A pickle indeed. No matter. It was a song with wholesale Survivor thievery. That bridge in the background was quite a site, I guess.

Sigh. Maybe I'll edit this later. Probably not.