Why am I listening to this pitch-corrected-to-death excrement when we should all be watching Jeffree Star's Cunt of Love (or something to that effect) on VH1?
If Tila Tequila taught us nothing else, it's that MySpace celebs make spectacular reality TV stars — and truly awful musicians. Although Star, the self-appointed "Cunt Queen of the Internet," is a symptom of that Warholian phenomenon that accords notoriety to people who have accomplished nothing (well, in fairness, Star's done make-up for Kelly Osbourne and Davey Havok, and that's got to be harder than it sounds), that doesn't mean he can't make a positive contribution to popular culture. Just imagine a reality dating show where Star, a dead ringer for Mechanical Animals–era Marilyn Manson, goes through dudes who look like 12 Pack from I Love New York like a pneumonic monkey through snot rags. The entire Bible Belt would flip its collective shit. It would be epic — perhaps enough to atone for Cupcakes, an aimless mess of electronica clichés that's unimaginative and annoying.
It remains possible that Star is aiming for self-depreciation, or parody, with lyrics like "Fuck me, I'm a celebrity/I'll make you (moan) me just to get somewhere." But, really, this type of narcissistic, retarded sexuality hasn't been shocking or provocative since . . . gee . . . The Real World: Las Vegas, maybe?
