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Mailbag: Gay ‘Boy Bands’, Miley Cyrus and Bombing Syria

How diverse is the Parson’s mailbag? – More sundry than the Spice Girls’ shoe catalogue.

These are the three topics that came up the most this week so I thought I’d answer them with a column.

“What did you think of Miley Cyrus at the Video Music Awards,” and “Why are people wasting their time talking about that dumb performance when the rest of the world is burning?”

I prefer my clowns to look like Tuffy Gessling rather than the Grateful Dead’s teddy bear with the Rolling Stone’s tongue, but I think someone with a moral compass and half a brain can multi-task. In the age in which we live, Miley’s blunder may payoff in the long run, Obama’s won’t.

If “art” is going to be raunchy it should still be art and it should always be original. I saw Miley’s performance back in 1985, when a really wasted spring breaker got a hold of the microphone stand in a bikini contest. She was original and pneumatic and that setting was more conducive to hedonism.

Miley is no Salome. If Herod had witnessed that debacle, Billy Ray’s head would have ended up on the serving tray and the choreographer would have been fed to the pigs. But I do think it accomplished what she set ought to accomplish: to upstage Lady Gaga and to shed once and for all the legacy of Hannah Montana.

Following the performance and apparently occupied with the growing unrest in the Middle East, Miley’s dad, Billy Ray Cyrus tweeted the innocuous, “Thanking God for so many blessings tonight. Continue to pray for world peace. More love … less hate,” proving once again that Miss South Carolina is not the most vacuous person in the Western Hemisphere.

I think Billy Ray D-Bag is getting way too big of a pass on this whole thing. Yes, Miley has her own volition and could go her own way; then again, no kid goes into show business without a push, a shove, lessons, rehearsals, auditions, voice coach, acting coach, and markers called in. 

In other words, the girl was spawned in “Attention Whore Hell” and now we’re supposed to kvetch like Jada Pinkett Smith because the little Mogwai twerked into the striped Gremlin? 

Personally, negligence on that level should not go unpunished. We should give him his damn mullet back, tie it to the bumper of a ’65 Ford Pickup – the one with a George Strait bumper sticker, and drag him through the narcissistic debris field left by other celebrity parental pimps and hoes. 

We could start at Cher’s and take the scenic route!

“What do you think of a ‘boy band’ made up entirely of gay boys?”

My first “thought” was — aren’t they all; my second, I don’t “think” about boy bands unless they’re the reason my plane is delayed. But if it has finally happened at least it’s honest. Their substance has finally caught up to their symbolism.

It’s the perfect face of the sappy, wretched genre. Yet in a way, what could be more outrageously bigoted and the utter opposite of the highest virtue to those who bow at the altar of political correctness? — How utterly and pathetically un-diverse. Imagine assembling a band of boys that had to be “gay on the resume,” a band that would turn away a Justin Timberlake?

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John Kirkwood

John Kirkwood is a son of Issachar. He is a Zionist, gun-toting, cigar-smoking, incandescent light bulb-using, 3.2 gallon flushing, fur-wearing, Chinese (MSG) eating, bow-hunting, SUV driving, unhyphenated American man who loves his wife, isn't ashamed of his country and does not apologize for his Christianity. He Pastors Grace Gospel Fellowship Bensenville, where "we the people" seek to honor "In God we Trust." He hosts the Christian wake up call IN THE ARENA every Sunday at noon on AM 1160 and he co-hosts UnCommon Sense, the Christian Worldview with a double shot of espresso on He is the proud homeschooling dad of Konnor, Karter and Payton and the "blessed from heaven above" husband of the Righteous and Rowdy Wendymae.