Lady Gaga versus Cinderella

I posted a comment on facebook expressing my disapproval of Lady Gaga's devil horns at the Grammy Awards. My post generated other comments so I made a journalistic decision to find out more about this self-proclaimed performance artist. I don't want to be accused of talking out of my you-know-what.

For two years, I have been listening to her songs on the radio and, at first, I thought they were catchy (until they became annoying earworms), but I had never watched her videos until my two-year-old granddaughter brought one to my attention. I was in the kitchen fixing her something to eat when I became alarmed because she was so quiet. I bolted into the living room, nearly knocking her over because she was standing right there, in front of the TV, innocent blue eyes glued to a Saturday afternoon performance on VH1featuring Lady Gaga in her bra and panties squatting over a nearly-naked male tied to a bedpost wearing black high heels.  Alejandro, Alejandro, Ale-Alejandro. I was horrified. Bad grandma, bad grandma.I had no idea the video was so sexually explicit, but then, I had no idea what any of Lady Gaga's videos portrayed until that day. Listening to the song, I would never have connected the electro-pop tune with the disturbing video.

For the sake of research, I subjected myself to an hour of Lady Gaga voyeurism and found sadomasochism, futuristic mind control, misandry, and death to be the predominant thread linking her "short films"  that conclude with someone (usually male) being killed or burned. In Telephone, Beyonce kills a man in a diner and then Gaga kills everyone with her Cook'n'Kill poison recipe. Mass murder in the diner...lovely. All of her videos are saturated with S & M, anti-christian symbolism, and the "all-seeing eye" is so obnoxiously prevalent that it lends credence to The Illuminati Puppet theory. Another quirk she demonstrates is her love of licking, or being licked, in the face. I don't know what this symbolizes and I don't want to know. I am now even less of a fan after investigating this artist and uncovering her grandiose depiction of herself - "my destiny is to be a storyteller for the world" - "my destiny is to provide for my fans" - "my fans protect me, it's now my destiny to protect them"  - "I have a lot of fans, and they're spreading the book of Gaga around the world" - "my Haus of Gaga"." Her Haus of Gaga now simply refers to her as "the Lady." She doesn't seem to realize that she is a mere mortal and her naive little monsters, as she affectionately calls them, proliferate her fantasy. One thing that is consistent about Lady Gaga are her perpetual contradictions. She can't keep anything straight because as she has admitted in several interviews, "I lie profusely..."  The media claims that she is a fashionista, bestowing her with the title of fashion icon. That is so ridiculous, I refuse to comment. However, I loved Justin Bieber's remark about Lady Gaga's arrival to the Grammy's in an egg. He told Chelsea Handler, "People say it's artistic or stuff. I'm just like, "You're an egg!"

With all the gaga sickness being spread around the world, I think parents of young girls have a lot more to worry about than the princess complex. Peggy Orenstein, in her book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, voices her concerns about the possible negative impact that pink frills, tiaras, and magic wands have on little girls. I am guilty of buying a Disney Princess Gown for my granddaugher and she is adorable in it. She serves me tea and cake and flounces about like a ballerina in her layers of crushed velvet, pink tulle and sequins. Am I worried about her? No. It is an unbelievably sweet phase and it will pass. Her father counterbalances the multitude of pink with Frolf and basketball, I am trying to teach her to not be afraid of bugs, and her mother is an ambitious, hardworking, college-educated girlie-girl.

I am more worried about the impressionable tweens and teens who idolize Lady Gaga and her monster act. The symbolism is so complex and they are not emotionally prepared or mentally mature enough to sort through the distortion of intimacy and myriad of sexual innuendos. Diehard fans of Gaga cannot agree on who she is and what she represents. Some say she is not involved with the occult or the Illuminati, while others admit she may be, but they don't care. Still others insist she represents art in its purest form.  Lady Gaga, the artist, is not very original. She refuses to stray from her redundant themes of mind control, satanism, and death laced with liberal doses of homoerotica and, she is a copycat. Camille Paglia of The Sunday Times, said it best. "Gaga has borrowed so heavily from Madonna...that it must be asked, at what point does homage become theft?...she is a ruthless recycler of other people's work."

I say, let your child choose the color she wants to wear - it may not be pink. Provide toys and activities that represent both genders and why be alarmed about childhood phases that are based on "good"?  Then, when they dive into the world of pop culture - fine-tune your parental controls!

 

Blood Suckers

Good night, sleep tight,
Don’t let the bedbugs bite.
And if they do
Then take your shoe
And knock ‘em ‘til
They’re black and blue!

         --- Author Unknown

This bedtime rhyme dates back to the mid 1800’s and millions of children have been tucked in bed snug as a bug in a rug with these soothing words. This seemingly harmless nursery rhyme is not fit for children and I’m about to tell you why, but I’m going to revise the poem and bring it into the twenty-first century.

Forget good night, forgo sleep tight,
Those nasty bedbugs are gonna bite.
And when they do
You’ll need more than a shoe
Because sucking your blood is what they do.
It’s what they do, it’s what they do!
Hotels, motels, theaters, and clubs
No one is safe from this vicious bug.
My innocence lost at such a cost,
Suitcases and clothing, all were tossed!

I didn’t spend a lot of time on the new version, roughly twenty minutes, but I have spent over two weeks cussing, rubbing, medicating, and monitoring the bedbug bites I acquired in New York City. I didn’t mention them in my January 29th blog, Notes from New York, because at that time I was still a naïve bedbug victim - believing the bites would disappear within a few days and, basking in the warm memory of Manhattan, I kept quiet, mollified by the honeymoon phase.

Seventeen days later, I am a distrustful human being. Not towards my own kind – my cynicism is focused, clearly directed at insects and specifically, parasitic insects. I have an enemy. I don’t want enemies and try very hard not to accumulate them, but this antagonist will not let me be.

The top three destinations on my Bucket List: The rainforest, New York City, and Tuscany, Italy. Last year I went to the rainforest and returned with chigger bites that lasted for weeks - six weeks to be exact. My feet, ankles and calves were covered with small lesions that itched, burned, blistered, and scarred. Paranoid upon my return to the States, I threw away all my socks, shoes, underwear, t-shirts, and my suitcase. I checked and re-checked my household plants, looking for the little buggers just in case they hitched a ride to South Dakota and found my Dracaena or Ficus to their liking. Yet, despite all that, I would return to the rainforest; this time better informed about chiggers and with a strategy to steer clear of their habitat. I know where they live, I know their secrets.

So why am I so distressed about the bed bugs? On day fourteen, I awoke with a red hot poker in my arm. My skin was swollen and stretched tight around three bites (referred to as breakfast, lunch, and dinner) with a red line streaking to my upper arm.

Bedbug bites courtesy of Manhattan

By afternoon, my forearm from wrist to elbow was bright red and on fire. The doctor determined I had soft tissue infection and blood poisoning. The vile little bloodsuckers poisoned me! Tried to kill me! I can’t forgive that.

Blood poisoning on its way to my heart

Massive doses of antibiotics were administered – ten a day for seven days, heavy dose of Prednisone for three days, tapering off every three days for nine days. Ever had to take prednisone? This was my first rodeo with the drug and I didn't dare leave the house all weekend. Didn’t trust myself. I felt like Joan Rivers on steroids with a severe case of PMS. Not cool at all. On this bug-go-round I also threw away my suitcase, my underwear, my socks, and my pajamas. I am 99% certain that the vampire bugs did not fly home with me, but my concern now is…When I travel in the future, where do I lay my weary head after a long day of sightseeing? I was blissfully resting in my hotel room on a Sweet Sleeper bed with plush pillowtop mattress when the blood-thirsty bugs assaulted me, inserting their dual feeding tubes into my unsuspecting flesh, injecting anesthesia with one tube and extracting blood with the other. I wasn’t traipsing about the jungle knee-deep in tropical flora. I was in a safe place. Or so, I thought. How will I ever regain trust in the hotel bed? Where will I find the money to buy new suitcases and underwear? What insect will accost me in Italy?

According to bedbugger.com, deadbedbugs.com, thebedbugsbite.com, badbedbugs.com, ehow.com, ezinearticles.com, CBS, NBC, ABC and all the exterminators in the U.S. – we are in the midst of a bedbug epidemic. A resurgence in bedbug infestations. A bloodsucking war that we are, thus far, losing. In August 2010, CBS listed the top ten bedbug infested cities and Ta! Da! New York City was numero uno.

I have shared my battle with the bugs and if you want to know more, visit any of the above websites/blogs to learn how to identify and exterminate bedbugs. Some of the sites include tips for travel and safeguarding your home. There are plenty of photos of the perpetrators and their victims.

Sweet dreams.