…is not of interest to me. Nor, really, is any other part of her. In the spirit of Dr. Seuss:
Miley Cyrus' Va-jay-jay. I shall not see it in the hall, I shall not see it if you fall, I shall not see it in a stall, Or perched upon a wrecking ball. I does not interest me in a tree, It does not interest me for free, It does not fill me heart with glee, The prospect makes me want to flee! I do not want it in a bus, It does not fill my heart with lust, Show it elsewhere if you must, But not to me Miley Cy-rus!
I could go on, but you get my drift.
Oh I am sure there are plenty of hormone driven young men who are delighted that Miley likes to do her best to show of her wares and spend hours watching her videos while holding their mouse with one hand. It’s probably the closest thing we have to a rite of passage any more, and that’s a said statement and an indictment of our spiritual systems in the west.
As I watched Miley swinging on a wrecking ball today, trying desperately to discover what all of the fuss was, I learned nothing new. She is a fit young woman, but otherwise indistinguishable from the tens of thousands of other fit young women in any city in America. More importantly, as men mature they learn that it’s not the body parts that make a woman (or a man, for that matter) attractive, but rather the person to whom the parts belong. As we learn that, we also discover there is some rather unattractive about anyone – male or female – who is so broken that they try do very desperately for attention while claiming they are not, in fact, struggling to get attention.
In the end, after seeing her swinging back and forth on a wrecking ball, all that really came to mind was that I hope she is current on her tetanus boosters. It’s not that I am outraged, not at all. I am just so very bored with it all.