In defense of poor Ke$ha...

Friends! It's been so long since I've posted... I've failed you. I'm ashamed! I'm horrified! I've been busy! So, here goes, dipping my toes back into the murky water that is known as... I can't even bring myself to say the word (blogging). Let's call it sharing, shall we?

So, this is old news, I realize, but I just finished a conversation with my sister, Betsy (Holla! What up twin that's 10 years older than me? What? You don't understand?! Neither do I. Ask Jesus how twindom can span a decade.), and I feel compelled to share our thoughts. We have both confessed that we appreciate the weirdness that is known as Ke$ha and I for one feel compelled to defend the girl's freaky SNL performance.

This girl is truly bizarre in the most embarrassing and amazingly un-self conscious ways. She's not weird-cool like Lady Gaga, who has hoodwinked everyone into thinking her particular brand of abstractness, aloofness and product-placement is the second coming of Andy Warhol dressed in Alexander McQueen. Ke$ha is just weird. This girl is like middle-school weird. Not middle-school weird like, I wear my grandma's vintage clip-on earrings (that's Gaga territory), but middle-school weird like, I wear my grandma's teal nightgown with a bandanna and neon snap bracelets because I think it's boss. Or middle-school weird, like I put Fritos in my peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Yet, somehow I think it's working for her and I'm starting to really dig this freak flag-flying weirdo.

Ke$ha has so many elements to which I'd normally find oppositions. How did I get to this level of appreciation? How did I overcome all of the misspellings and gross-misuse of capitalization? Let's discuss. First of all, at first I hated that song "TiK ToK." There is just no way to justify it as genius or ambitious songwriting. Then again, I should start criticizing songwriting only when, like this man, I write a song that has both infected the minds of innocent, unsuspecting civilians and generated gajillions of dollars. It's a weird song, full of strange references that seem somewhat contradictory. Do Valley-girls who appreciate pedicures on their toes and tryin' on all their clothes really brush their teeth with a bottle of Jack Daniels and seek out men that look like Mick Jagger? (By the way, which Mick Jagger are you looking for, Ke$ha? Are we talking '60s Mick Jagger? I'd even accept '80s or early-'90s Jagger, but present-day Mick Jagger is unacceptable. I won't allow it. Proof below.)

But, against all odds, this song has still managed to get this booty a'shakin'. I freely admit that my last trip to the gym was made 10 times more pleasurable by two things: Oprah's vocal ac-RO-baaaaa-tiCCCCs (Damn, girl, that's an art! And, who doesn't love watching Oprah on their day off while working an elliptical?) and Ke$ha's "TiK ToK" video. That song got me freakin' pumped! She built me up! She broke me down! My heart DID pound! Ya, she got me. With HER hands up, I put MY hands up! I gave in.

Let's move on to another serious, potential source of opposition: the dollar sign. Ke$ha, what is this?! Do you realize how strange this is? Did Prince convince you to do this? P. Diddy? You should know, both of those men have had name-identity crises. I'm very perplexed. I think it's very confusing for all of us. You might have won me over sooner if you didn't have both a dollar sign in your name AND misspellings PLUS alternating capitalizations in your first single. It's just too much for America all at once. We're not ready! What's next? If I see an @ symbol, I'm really going to reconsider my level of affection. I'm serrrrious. Still, here I am, defending your weirdness... oh, who am I kidding?! It's going to take a lot more than an @ sign to shake me, you crazy loon!

Somehow, Ke$ha makes all these wrongs just feel so right! It's a perfect storm of weirdness that is beautifully embodied in her performance as musical guest on SNL a few weeks ago. There is so much here to discuss that I'm at a loss for anything beyond simple exclamations. Skin-tight metallic wetsuit! Acapella/synthesizer opening! American-flag cape flaunts! Awkward toe-tapping and eye-searching as the first glorious Nintendo beats hint of the weirdness to come! Truly inspired hand motions! The fist in the air for each "Don't Stop!" Valley girl hair flipping! Robot-arm dangles! Time-lapse booze bottle tipping! It's all here. All of this genius, however, culminates in the most amazing, indescribable dancing, gamely delivered by truly talented astronaut-helmeted robot dancers. Don't get me wrong: first, just enjoy the weirdness of Ke$ha here. She is, without a doubt, the main attraction in this freak show from the facial expressions to the laser orchestrations. But, do yourself a favor: watch the video a second time. Take the time to really embrace the commitment her backup dancers bring to this roboting. Watch those hip rotations. Love those crunches. Try to emulate those happy skips and arm pumps. It's the kind of dancing that can only be achieved when made anonymous by astronaut helmets. I just may get one myself. After all, what if we really ARE the aliens?