In case you've been hanging out on a boat for the past month, Rebecca Black is a client of Ark Music Factory, a company that, for $2000, will write you a pop song, make you a video, and raise your hopes of becoming a pop star via the internet, however they won't pay for your years of therapy once you realize that you probably won't become the next Britney Spears. She sings a terrible song called "Friday," the only unique feature of which is how she pronounces it with three syllables (Fri-eee-day). Well, that's not entirely true. The other unique feature of this song is its ability to get inside your brain and eat all the other music you've been listening to all day, and then it will repeat itself over and over again until you want to stick your head on an anvil and knock yourself silly.
In last week's InfoMania, Sergio did a White Hot Top Five dedicated to the other stars (aka kids with rich parents) of the Ark Music catalog. They were all Disney-wannabees, with the exception of CJ Fam, a firecracker 4'1" 53-pound (according to her profile on the Actors Pages, which, creepily features a picture of her posing at the beach in a bathing suit) blond-haired Annie lookalike who strikes me as being about as annoying as the giant splinter I got caught under my thumbnail when I was cleaning the deck the other morning.
But since she's only, like, 8, I blame her parents. Probably her overbearing mom who always wanted to be a star herself, but wound up getting pregnant and marrying her high school boyfriend and staying in Dumbf*ck, Nebraska until she had a midlife crisis and packed her youngest daughter, and greatest hope for stardom into the Ford and drove to LA where, rather than prostitute herself and her Baby Girl on Sunset and Highland, she decided to sign her up with ARK instead.
Actually I made all that up. I think she's from Florida.
But I do think her mom is to blame because when you click on her youtube profile, the first link is a montage featuring the Beatles' Help to get her "fans" (aka 6 year old girls who shouldn't be on the internet in the first place anyway) riled up to view her videos as many times as Rebecca Black's, in a "Showdown" so that she can get signed by Ryan Seacrest, too.
Listen Overbearing Mom: I could ignore the fact that you let your Baby Girl sing Lady Gaga songs with lyrics about being too drunk to text while she's dressed like a hooker. I could ignore the fact that you are pitting her against Rebecca Black in a weird Showdown that evokes images of John Wayne and fake gun battles, thus creating a scarcity conversation in her developing brain so she'll probably be super-competitive with everybody her whole life ("There's not enough success for everyone, and Rebecca Black is getting it, that tramp, so therefore we need to have a Showdown"). I can even forgive you trying to vicariously live your dream through your daughter, and turning her into a little brat that everybody's going to want to beat up and no guy will ask to the prom, in ten years, because she's so annoying.
Even though children's services might come knocking at your door, I can even overlook you allowing your 8 year old to be eroticized in a world of internet porn (see above-mentioned bathing suit photo, and this gem):
It's no worse than pageant moms do all over the country.
But. I. Can. NOT. Forgive. The. Blasphemic. Use. Of. The. Beatles. In. Supporting. This. Endeavor.
When will the madness end? Can't Yoko Ono sue somebody over this?
Remember like 13 years ago when we were all up in arms over Britney Spears looking too hot in her first video? I know, our precious little CJ Fam wasn't even born yet, and her super-hit, the oxymoronically-named single, "Ordinary Popstar" (I refuse to link to it because I don't want to contribute to the Rebecca Black Showdown) was still years away from being conceived, but I remember that time. I remember people freaking out over Brit wearing a Catholic uniform and doing some dirty-dancing moves next to a locker, which, incidentally looks like the dancing they did in movies from the 50's compared to what our CJ is doing.
My dad likes to say that things in the 50's were better, and more innocent. And I'm always like, "yeah, Dad, you're just looking at the past through rose-colored glasses. It wasn't so great if you were black. Or a woman. Or, you know, not Beaver Cleaver or Donna Reed." We've had arguments about this since I was 16. But I'm starting to think that my dad could be right. Maybe we are going down the slippery slope. Maybe pole-dancing in gym class is coming next?
(Then again, even being Beaver Cleaver wasn't able to save Jerry Mathers from looking like a dope all his life, which is really apropos of nothing, but needs to be said because I found this picture):
So, maybe Eddie Haskell should win a couple of rounds, you know? Just to even things out. Make The Beav look a little less dopey/strung out.
And maybe it wasn't the end of the world when Brit did her thing with her pigtails flying around.
But this CJ Fam thing, it's just out of control. If it can help her get back to being an Ordinary Girl (and not an Ordinary Popstar) then I will continue to click Rebecca Black's video day and night, bravely facing the teasing of my husband for continuing to sing the offending song even when I know it gives him a migraine, and I will selflessly help her decide whether she wants to party in the front or the back seat on the weekend, and do whatever I can so that she wins this Showdown, and CJ Fam can get back to school and maybe get some guidance counselling or some education in something other than Being a Pop Star 101. Because Rebecca Black doesn't strike me as a crazy chick whose life will be destroyed if she gets some early success. I'm worried that if CJ Fam gets big-time attention, she'll wind up being the next Lindsay Lohan, only worse because Lindsay Lohan is really talented and it still couldn't save her.
And lastly, will somebody please kill whatever it is that keeps attacking her legs in her video?
Thank you.
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