Of Blurred Lines and Dancing Teddy Bears

What is it exactly about Miley Cyrus' teddy bear dance and provocative exercise in "twerking" at the recent MTV Video Music Awards that has rendered the entire nation apoplectic about the calibration of Miley's moral compass? Why are we seeing and reading so much infantilizing Victorian era moralism from our finest pundits?

One such reaction came from Lisa Belkin, writing in the August 26 Huffington Post. Belkin, who blogs for the New York Times, disappointedly criticized what she called Cyrus' "grinding declaration of adulthood" in the form of a letter, one that reads like a haughty and dismissive parental lecture that ignores, as these lectures usually do, the fact that we've all made debatable choices on the road to figuring out just who the hell we are.

Many of the stories about Cyrus in the last few days drip with manufactured outrage and follow the same formula: shots of Cyrus dancing with large teddy bears, sticking her tongue out, cavorting with Robin Thicke (whose mom, Gloria Loring - who once had a Top 10 hit with a song about an affair - wondered publicly about Miley's actions) to his equally provocative hit, "Blurred Lines," interviews with parents and teens shocked and stunned that Miley pushed the Lolita button, commentary from academics that conveniently ignores that Miley's actions aren't new - all capped by reporters earnestly wondering (without evidence, I might add) if her performance will turn the nation's young women into promiscuous antisocial sluts.

But so what if Cyrus wanted to say "'screw you' to wholesomeness'" as Time.com's Lily Rothman speculated in her column about the controversy? So we're pissed because Miley wants to distance herself from Hannah Montana, who was just quirky and provocative enough to suit us? Is this such a bad thing? Cyrus operates here at a decided disadvantage: her act of rebellion took place on a national stage. We can watch her hint at adult feelings and experiences in a sanitized Disney world, but the moment she takes a walk on the wild side, we freak out? Maybe we've forgotten our own acts of rebellion. Or maybe we envy her bravery, having chickened out when the time came to give the world the finger - or the tongue in Miley's case.

And when did MTV turn into Prude Central anyway?

It is the height of disingenuousness for folks in the media to rip, as Belkin did, Cyrus for "using outrage as a marketing tool when you have so much else to sell." Faux outrage is all the rage; it is the mainstream media's current meal ticket, its raison d'être. Calm and considered contextualization is about as rare in media content these days as Ralph Nader appearances at Tea Party conventions - or Gore family reunions.

As for having "so much else to sell," I think it's not out there to say the powers that be would never let Miley, say, record an album of Big Band standards. We want to keep Cyrus - and most young women, for that matter - in the "we can gawk at you while marginalizing you for expressing yourself sexually" box. The millisecond a young woman wants to go down an unapproved sexual road, we trip over ourselves to defend our endangered values - and provide more evidence that we're maybe more repressed than ever. Every member of the mainstream media must also somehow be forced to acknowledge their role in marginalizing feminism to the point that "leaning in," the virtues of "opting out," and the gyrations of barely post-adolescent recording artists are now what the nation contemplates when it tears itself away from Sister Wives to assess gender equality.

All this while we allow debate about whether global warming is actually taking place and children die in Syria.

Or it could just be that folks in the media respond in knee-jerk fashion to displays of sexuality - only by young women; men rarely are critiqued for acting provocatively - because they might cause the 17 conservative soldiers still fighting the "culture wars" to mass at the border and fire off 18 threatening emails, as they did when Janet Jackson did (or didn't) accidentally expose her breast during the Super Bowl halftime show some years back. Those 18 emails are then transformed into a "national controversy," and off we go again to the Argument for the Sake of Ratings Land.

So when later today you watch, or Google, or stream Miley's VMA appearance for the tenth time, do me a favor - two actually: first, when you're done, immediately find and read an article about the potential for our intervention in Syria; and second, fondly rather than judgmentally celebrate your own acts of teenage rebellion.

Animated Bears Love To Do Number Two

A current television ad for Toviaz shows a young woman in a bridal shop trying on wedding dresses. Her mom sits nearby. The bride-to-be doesn't know it of course, but she's adhered to my Say Yes to the Dress rule: bring as few people as possible with you when you set out to choose a gown if you want to make a decision that is truly yours.

Anyway, as her daughter happily examines the dress in the mirror - no doubt preparing to shout "I Found The Gown!" - mom realizes she has to visit the ladies room. Mom is torn; she wants to stay and support her daughter, but her overactive bladder is calling. Mom looks worried; she crosses her legs. Finally, she can wait no longer and heads off.

Her daughter turns just in time to see an empty aqua couch. A look of disappointment crosses her face as she realizes where mom has gone. But there's a lot of resignation there too; she's no doubt reliving missed volleyball games and award ceremonies. Mom knows she's been a drag. "I'm fed up with having to put my bladder's needs ahead of my daughter's," she says in a voice over.

Mom returns just in time to see her daughter celebrating her gown choice with the bridal consultant. Finally tired of missing these compelling moments, she makes the decision right then and there - again without consultation from 12 family members - to see her doctor to discuss that "gotta go feeling."

It's one thing to have figures made of copper pipe attempting to make it through the day without wetting pants they don't have. It's another entirely to visit the nation's indignation on a woman who simply needs to pee. What would you have her do? Squirm in pain while she tries to hold it in? Have an accident right there in the middle of the bridal salon, just so you can have the affirmation you crave?

And then there are the Charmin bears. It turns out that animated bears love - revel in, lose themselves in - the act of number two. They love wiping themselves after number two. Leonard, aka Papa Bear, slowly rubs the toilet paper on his face as he sits. "Oh, this is soft - this is so soft," he moans with almost orgasmic rapture. Down in the living room, Molly the Mama Bear gently calls up that "he only needs a few sheets!" Papa bear rolls back the excess, then resumes caressing what's left for him to use. Mama bear also diligently monitors her family's rear ends for butt flakes, while her bespectacled son Bill lectures the public on how Charmin's construction will enable you to, well, get cleaner so that you don't soil your underwear.

"We all go - why not enjoy the go?" Bill asks as he flexes his muscles to remind us of Charmin Ultra Strong's strength.

So it's official: no human activity is immune from media overemphasis. Is nothing sacred? Don't the creators of these ads and their clients have "no talking while I'm on the potty" rules in their homes, like Sarah Chalke's character in Scrubs? And while I do have bathroom visits that are particularly...productive, I'm not sure I'd ever use the word "enjoy" to describe them. Maybe that's just me - maybe there are people all across America who use satisfying number twos as cause for great celebration. Drinks are served; mini-conga lines pop up. Vacation plans will now include "The Great Bathrooms of Europe."

And pretty soon we'll have a reality show called "Say Yes to the Poop."