Dear Future Me,
I know this isn’t something that Past Me does often, but I felt that I must write to you. This week has been awful on the scale of the Great Accidental Gym Fart of 1999, and I just wanted to check in make to sure that you’re feeling okay. With everything going on in your personal life, plus Egypt and Syria and that lady who murdered her infant son in a toilet at a bar…well, sometimes it just seems like there isn’t a bright light at the end of this handmade shit tunnel. I wanted to let you know that someone cares about you, even if that someone is you from the past.
More importantly, however, I need to know if this whole Miley Cyrus controversy has died.
It’s not like I care. I mean, you know me! I’m Past You! But if you could sniff out some kind of Sandra Bullock in the Lake House situation, I would really appreciate it. Just draw a salamander on a piece of paper, dump it in a mailbox, and I’ll know you’re referring to the fact that Miley’s tongue is an interspecies miracle. Of course I will—I’m Past You!
The thing is, I can’t avoid this story. It’s one of the most aggravating popular “news” items since the fake shock of seeing Janet Jackson’s star nipple. It is everywhere. But you know this — you’re Future Me!
That’s why I need you to tell me if this whole thing blows over. I know that these things take time, especially since every single person has to offer their opinion before society can move past it. And it’s not even that the social criticism bothers me, but it’s just the way it’s been handled. You either have those who are slut shaming or those who know what the phrase “slut shaming” means. You have simple statements like “put some clothes on, whore” or well-thought out articles about the racial implications of the performance. You have those who think Robin Thicke was merely a prop for Hannah Montana to rub herself on, and you have those who know that this rebellion was so premeditated that it seems like a Mariah Carey-style nervous breakdown.
But, Future Me, perhaps the most irritating aspect of this whole thing is the fact that WE WERE DUMB ENOUGH TO BE SHOCKED. Seriously, I heard about the performance before I saw it. I thought it would be the most horrifying spectacle since I found out that the VMAs still happen (I flipped out in a grocery store—not proud of it). Mothers everywhere raged against the display of youth sexuality, tiny pockets of feminists proclaimed it a faux sex positive performance, and stereotypically misogynistic frat boys (ie Fox News correspondents) attempted to demoralize Miley Cyrus herself. This, of course, is exactly what her marketing team wanted in the first place. I AM SO BORED BY THIS.
But you know all of this—you’re Future Me!
So, please do me a solid, Future Me. Please make my Facebook friends shutthefuckupforever about this boring shock performance. And please, for the love of god, try not to finish that whole bag of Pirate’s Booty in one sitting. You know they’re expensive and we’re trying to get healthier. I believe in you!
Sincerely and with the utmost love and respect,