I'm a bastard, it's true (sucks to be you...)

I caught the new Madonna video the other night. Sigh... When did Madonna get so creepy looking? Remember when everyone was copying her by wearing the zillion chains and lace gloves and doing the whole Boy-Toy thing? Or, even a few years later, when she was offending people by kissing the black Jesus and we thought that was cool? Or her sophisticated Evita phase, or her raunchy Dick Tracy hanky-panky (nothing like a good spany) era? Or even a few years ago when she was all "edgy", going to see female strippers and hanging with Ali G? Yeah, what happened to that? Now, she's dancing in a leotard and I felt icky when I caught a flash of ass-cheek hanging out. As I watched her work her mojo and the camera follow her sashaying ass, I kept thinking: Dude, that's someone's mom. And it was all kinds of wrong for all kinds of reasons. And I realized that somewhere along the way, people stopped wanting to be Madonna. Now, they don't even want to watch Madonna.

Personally, I blame Guy Ritchie.

Even though I kinda like the song, I don't think I'll be able to listen to it very often without the leotard image ruining it for me. Madonna, it's time to face the same sad facts as Elton John and Rod Stewart before you: at some point, hire young, pretty people to act out the love story and stop scaring your fans!

What else is going on? Oh, watched an "adult" film the other night. And part of me knows that these films aren't intended to be of the highest quality, but as I was watching, I realized that they were re-running footage--while the scene was still in progress! So, it was like: head-bob, head-bob, glance over shoulder, close eyes... identical head-bob, head-bob, glance over shoulder, close eyes. Come on! When did this become acceptable filmmaking?

That was not, however, the weirdest revelation about the film. I'm watching as the camera pans to an extreme close-up of an ass in motion. Because of the camera angle (not to mention the proximity to the action), I'm suddenly reminded of a change purse I had as a child: sort of a dark pinkish-red pebbly-textured leatherette deal. And I realized again that these films are not being made for women, because how many men are critiquing film technique and reminiscing about accessories while watching?

Perhaps I'll just chalk it up to reason #572 why I'm going to hell. Oh, and Kelly? Still in Paris. Still hate Kelly (that's reason #573 right there...)