You Cannot Take the Gay Out of Lady Gaga
April 9, 2009

At best, you can make her sound like she’s going to be the song they play on the ending montage of a Gossip Girl episode:

The music says, “I’m sensitive and hurting; xoxo, you know you love me, now please give me a hug.”  I can just see Dan/Chuck/Blair/Nate/whoever walking contemplatively in the dark streets of New York while this song plays.  Serena will claim she’s killed someone yet again because she just had to shine, Kristen Bell will have a pithy and pun-laden monologue, and we’ll cut to Jenny making the saddest of raccoon eyes at her sewing machine.  Seriously, this song is just like listening to All American Rejects.  If All American Rejects were fronted by a woman who behaves drag queen.  

And what of “Just Dance”?  Oh, you’ve no idea.  If you you mix Lady Gaga and heavy metal, you’ve got a recipe for head explosions:

Is that not the best?  I really think it’s the best.  The font suggests Slipknot, but those hand claps positively scream 1980s Madonna.  Perhaps I’m wrong, but the hand claps take “Just Dance” to an entirely new stratosphere of homosexuality.    You’ve outdone Lady Gaga, sir.  Well played.

I can’t even imagine what’ll happen when “LoveGame” gets reworked in this fashion.  Lady Gaga’s Homo-Force is so strong that the internet just might break from that insanity.  The word “discostick” is not meant to encounter with death metal guitars, but–like the hadron collider–it must be done.

Lady Gaga: 1, My Resistance to Lady Gaga: 0
April 1, 2009

For quite some time, I’ve been trying to not give Lady Gaga even the slightest shred of respect.  Her interview in Entertainment Weekly had me convinced that she was a batshit insane hack as she talked about the feminism of riding a “discostick,” her “art,” and her self-made comparisons to Andy Warhol.  Yes, Lady Gaga, an allergy to pants and a penchant for ridicu-sunglasses truly qualifies as inspired feminist pop art.  I really must brush up on on my art history; I’ve clearly forgotten so much!

Much to my surprise and horror, though, Lady Gaga has proved my bitchiness wrong.  Maybe it’s that her  New York Magazine profile paints her as a self-aware, “post-camp persona,” and we all know how much I love all things camp.  Second to U2, I love it the most.  Reading that she takes fashion inspiration from transvestives is the sort of thing that makes me fall in love with a woman; and by fall in love, I mean want to be her best friend.  I’m no tranny myself (the beard makes it kinda difficult), but any performer that wants to queer-up pop culture is a-okay in my book.  

Mostly, though, I have to give it up for Ms. Gaga because of her video for “LoveGame.”  Don’t even start to think this mess is safe for work, suitable for viewing if you’re my mother, or remotely heterosexual in its stylings.  Once you’ve accepted those three simple things, though, you’re thoroughly prepared for this dazzling atom bomb of glittery homosexuality:

I don’t even know if there are words that can express the intense heights of homosexuality that this video reaches.  It’s as though Lady Gaga has climbed the Mt. Everest of gaydom and then built a gay high rise where she now resides in its gay penthouse.  She’s completely kicked the ass of the collective gay community by out-gaying each and every one of us.  I look like a frat boy at a strip club talking about sports while getting a lap dance from a girl with blond hair and big boobs in comparison; Chris Crocker looks positively bicurious.  “LoveGame” is like her announcing that she has the technology; she want us to be better, stronger, faster.  And much, MUCH gayer.  She wants to build the bionic fag.

The one thing that confuses me is why Lady Gaga is getting her “sexy” on for her posse of obviously gay men either in large groups or with pairs on a bench.  One of these guys is wearing a mesh tank top, for Pete’s sake!  I don’t think I’m going out on a limb when I say I’m quite sure that she won’t be taking a ride on any of their discosticks.  Otherwise this video makes perfect (non)sense.  

Of all the crazy trains, I think we can agree:  Lady Gaga’s has the most comfy seats and the best meals in the dining car.  Seriously, girl, you’ve gotta try the steak; it’s divine.

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