This Kabbalah must be some good stuff. It obviously makes you better than everyone else the minute you tie a red string onto your wrist. It also qualifies you to make generalizations like “most priests are gay.” Wow. And you know this how? Please, Madonna, go on doing what you do best. Whatever that is. But please, please, mamma, don’t preach.
October 17, 2005
Well, I’ll be darned. Madonna has made another name for herself. Let’s see. I’ve endured Slutty Madonna. Cowgirl Madonna. Earth Mother Madonna. Slick-haired Angelina Jolie-lookalike Madonna. I’ve seen pointy bras and the “classy broad.” I’ve seen one inexplicably harsh ponytail. I’ve seen Evita. I’ve seen crucifixes and rosaries worn like jewelry. I’ve seen “good” Catholic girl turn Jewish (without the benefit of, say, a real conversion). I’ve seen “documentaries” that present Madonna as a normal person. Just “one of us.” I’ve seen her make out with Britney on tv. I’ve seen the books. I’ve heard the music. And I thought that I had seen it all. But I was obviously wrong. This may be the most difficult image to swallow. Madonna as preachy.
It seems that Madonna, now that she is a mother, has renounced the presence of any media in her household. She thinks tv is trash. She is raising her children without magazines, newspapers, or milk. Good Lord. Talk about peeing in the pool then leaving the party. The Madonna we know (and either love or hate) is responsible for a lot of what pop culture is. For the past twenty or so years, there’s always been Madonna. Writhing, gyrating, performing. Making millions of dollars from her concert tours, movies, CD sales. Writing books. Posing for books. Turning 13-year-olds into Mini-Madonnas. Now the tables turn. She has her own children. And she will not allow them exposure to the media. She says that the world is “wicked.” Well, yeah, honey, maybe it is. And in no small part to her shameless exploitation of everything Madonna. And now that she’s tired and ready to settle down, maybe she doesn’t want her sweet babies to see the spectacle that Madonna, Inc. really was. It made you rich, Material Girl, rich enough to live on an English estate far above it all. And now, your children are too good to be exposed to that very image that you created? Gimme a break. Let’s just hope that the movies they are allowed to watch are not made by Guy Ritchie.