I’m giving you two clips; in the first one, skip ahead to 1:40 for the Palin stuff. Why two, given how similar they are? Because, if the YouTube descriptions are accurate, they came from two different concerts. The first allegedly is from Monday’s show at the Garden, the second from last night’s. That is to say, this is actually part of her act now. And as with every aspect of her shtick, particularly the political aspects, to the extent that there’s any shock value it lies in how lazy and unimaginative this is. Of course she hates Palin; of course her fans hate Palin. The safest political bet in America is Madonna crapping on the darling of middle-class conservatives in one of the country’s bluest cities. And daredevil that she is, she took that bet. Of course.
Or is there something more to this than laziness? Camille Paglia, always interesting if a bit nutty:
As I said in my last column, Palin has made the biggest step forward in reshaping the persona of female authority since Madonna danced her dominatrix way through the shattered puritan barricades of the feminist establishment. In 1990, in a highly controversial New York Times op-ed that attacked old-guard feminist ideology, I declared that “Madonna is the future of feminism” — a prophecy that was ridiculed at the time but that turned out to be quite true. Madonna put pro-sex feminism on the international map.
But it is now 18 years later — the span of an entire generation. The instabilities and diminishments for young women raised in an increasingly shallow media environment have become all too obvious. I had grown up in a vibrant pop culture with glorious women stars of voluptuous sensuality — above all Elizabeth Taylor, sewn into that silky white slip as the vixen Manhattan call girl of “Butterfield 8.” In college, I feasted on foreign films starring sexual sophisticates like Jeanne Moreau, Anouk Aimée and Catherine Deneuve. Sex today, however, has become brittle and superficial. Except for the occasional diverting flash of Lindsay Lohan’s borrowed bosom, I see nothing whatever that is worth a second glance. Pro-sex feminism has worked itself out and, like all movements, has degenerated into clichés. And even Madonna, with her skeletal megalomania, looks like a refugee from a horror movie.
She’s ready for her close-up, Mr. DeMille. Content warning, of course, with the clips, but take ’em with a smile. Like I said once before, it’s fun to watch old ladies curse.
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