In defense of Lady Gaga

The world needs Lady Gaga. That’s why she’s selling more albums than all the artists I usually listen to. And her tour? It’s the hottest ticket this summer.

OK OK OK, before we go any further, the obligatory disclaimer: She ain’t doin’ nuthin new. See Elton John, Madonna, Cher plus countless others who arguably have done it better. But, they did it then. This is now.

I mean, seriously. We have a disaster fustercluck in the Gulf. We have a liberal president who all my extremist wacko relatives hate — passionately — yet, we’re still entangled in two endless wars, the economy’s still  a flatliner, and all we got is some minor gains in the student loan and debit card rackets. Social security? Still broken, we won’t see any of it. And we have a fustercluck in the gulf. And tar balls in Galveston! And we’re all oil-guzzling accessories to it, one could argue, or …

We can listen to Lady Gaga, singing:

“Sorry I can’t hear you I’m kinda busy.

Stop calling, stop calling, I don’t want to think anymore.
I left my head and my heart on the dance floor.”

Play that “Telephone” track, and like — heh — who cares if John Cornyn’s about to throw a hissy-fit on the senate floor over Elena Kagan, lowering himself to Orrin Hatch’s level. I mean, I’m kinda busy.

On “Dance in the Dark,” she advises:

Find your freedom in the music.
Find your Jesus. Find your Cupid.

Nevermind Rick Perry. Maybe “Monster” applies:

“He ate my heart.
He ay-eight-hate my heart
That boy is a monster.”

At least, the last poll I saw, reported Bill White’s neck and neck. Hope, you see, is on the horizon, see: “So Happy I Could Die.”

“Happy in the club with a bottle of red wine
stars in our eyes because we’re having a good time”

She could reveal more with her lyrics, and less with her costumes. Well, i guess you can’t have it all.

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