the baggy trousered misanthropist

missives issued from the lair

Bang Bang… my idol shot me down. Image: AP Photo / Sean Dempsey.

Dear Madonna,

It is my sad duty to inform you that, after careful consideration, your role as my idol has become redundant.

I realise this may come as a shock to you given the length of your tenure in my life (or even more likely, you won’t give a crap because financially, it’s still a winner) , but in truth, your position has been has been under threat for some time.

Indeed, I began to suspect you weren’t the female influence I was hoping for when I got old enough to realise that getting my boobs out and pretending to be sexually available for every moment of my waking life did not encourage people to take me seriously.

But still. Those memories of my nine-year-old self walking around my parents’ appalling brown living room carrying a tape recorder that played ‘Like A Virgin’ are tender and tough to let go. I continued to look up to you through the lean times (True Blue, Who’s That Girl), rejoice in times of pride, plenty and teenage rebellion (Like A Prayer) and you returned the favour by teaching me the true meaning of embarrassment. You released ‘Erotica‘. I bought it.

But just when I thought you had nothing left to teach me, you pulled back from the smut abyss with ‘Ray Of Light’ and we danced around the living room once again. At last, I thought. Who better to commit the crime of aging gracefully in the public eye and not giving a crap?

That would be the first truly controversial thing you’d ever done (you couldn’t know that the internet would make home porn accessible to all) and I would finally have my dogged faith in you vindicated.

But you cocked it up, didn’t you? You released ‘Music’ and in what was the first of many desperate attempts to remain relevant, you cosied up to Ali G in the back of a cab. Then you took your track suit off in the video for ‘Hung Up’, and revisited the bondage years on the cover of ‘Hard Candy’.

Now you’re flirting with swastikas, firearms and blokes who were toddlers when you were pissing people off by advertising Pepsi with Jesus.

Nothing wrong with it. It’s just you made me think there might be more to being a woman. I think I’ll probably learn more by myself now.

Thanks for the memories, though.

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