Relationships are tough. Even the best ones can rot and decay over time, leaving both parties destroyed and ultimately alone. Nobody ever wants a relationship, romantic or otherwise, to go off the rails, but it happens to everyone at least once, and when it does, quite frankly, it sucks.
I was in a fairly destructive relationship for a time. It’s tempting to say that said relationship was 7 years of non-stop horror, but that wouldn’t be fair to the horror genre (I kid). Ours was a relationship that lasted way past its expiration date. I stuck around because I was still struggling to find a full-time job; she did because she liked the apartment we lived in and wasn’t going to leave. And so I slept on the futon in the living room where I was harassed each morning at 3 AM by her cats, meowing to be released into the cruel, uncompromising unknown of Nature, which was a better place to be then inside where tensions were so high the threat of toppling off of them into the abyss was both possible and preferable then the day-to-day lie we forced ourselves to live.
Things eventually broke down, I moved out, destroyed but relieved, and life moved on. I met my wife, who showed me what mutual respect in a relationship looked and felt like, we bought a house, we had a kid, and we bought a better house. I often say I don’t have any regrets in my life because every decision I’ve made lead to my wife and my daughter, so I don’t look back at the time spent with my ex in a negative light. I hold no ill will toward her and I hope she’s doing great. In fact, I follow her on Twitter and I can report that everything seems OK.
I can, however, reflect on that time period in my life and say that I truly understand what makes a relationship work and what reduces it to acrid rubble. I get it. You know who else gets it? Miley Cyrus. You remember Miley, right? The one-time Disney darling turned twerking snake-tongued weirdo? The one who daily offers her ass to all peoples of the world who desire to partake and be made whole?
A couple of months ago, I wrote a piece about the video for Miley’s single “We Can’t Stop.” I think I probably wrote something kind of like, I don’t know…what the holy hell?!? The video’s weird. I don’t hate it. I don’t love it. It kinda puts me off, but I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. It’s fine.
Miley recently released the video for her new song “Wrecking Ball,” a moving treatise on the difficultly of maintaining a romantic relationship in these troubling times. She expresses the ups-and-downs of modern romance in three specific ways:
1. Singing through an increasingly upset face.
2. Riding on top of a wrecking ball without any clothes on.
3. Seductively licking a sledgehammer.
OK. First of all, I don’t hate the song. It’s not breaking any new ground, but I get it: love can sometimes be a tornado of shit. Miley, like all of us, has been hurt by someone she loved and trusted, someone she thought she get closer to and have a real connection with. The relationship failed and the resulting pain felt like a wrecking ball tearing her life apart. Fine.
But why is she licking a sledgehammer? I mean, she licks it so much. We know you are fond of it, Miley, but using your tongue to give a kitty bath to a sledgehammer shows a complete lack of respect for the organ. And the sledgehammer. Did the sledgehammer consent to that? It couldn’t possibly. It’s a sledgehammer. Not only is she licking a dirty sledgehammer, she’s also straddling a wrecking ball naked. There’s no towel there to separate her junk from whatever particles of nastiness are resting on that wrecking ball. Think of your junk, Miley!
Like I said, the song is fine, but it is remarkably weird how Miley and her video directors have the need to turn all of her new songs into soft-core fetish videos. I guess that’s Miley just being Miley, right? She’s an adult now and adults are known to lick hammers and lounge atop rubble in their underwear. Ugh.