Sweet perfume of overindulgence and aesthetic schizophrenia, thy scent is Gaga. Why dost thou perpetually tempt me?
In a raging maelstrom of ever present yet wholly indistinguisable music videos there is a class all it’s own reserved for Lady Gaga. I make no secret of my own rapt obsession over said pop icon, roiling fiery counterarguments against her detractors whilst simultaneously championing the ethos of pure Gaga. In time it seems inevitable that disappointment will overcome eventually, slowly eroding the pristine image, practically deified, in my head. These thoughts have been soundly staved off, however, by the resounding successes of her latest releases. The Fame Monster heralded, in my eyes, a definitive improvement over the accomplishments of The Fame, juxtaposing the familiar dance-laden accoutrements with a newly revealed nightmarish introspection. The result was a volatile yet starkly honest account of Lady Gaga’s innermost desires and a jean-splitting listener’s boner on my part (see also: mind imploding ear erections).
This brings us to the present day, where a saturation of Gaga has been infused into our very being. This impossible standard has not only continued with the recent release of the “Telephone” music video, it has been elevated. The video, much like “Paparazzi” comes in the form of a short movie, greatly lengthening the actual song. It is in this second cinematic foray that the brilliance of Lady Gaga is most justly exhibited. For your consideration, a small list of the amazing things included in the video: female prison, practically nude gaga, beyonce, lesbianism, cigarette sunglasses, the pussy wagon, mass murder and female vigilantism. I’m sorry could there possibly be anything minus light saber wielding dinosaurs that could possibly make this video any better? No. She even has the balls (yeah it’s a pun) to make a dick joke about herself. Who does that? Fucking god damned genius. Here it is:
Two huge lesbian guards rip off Gaga’s dress, she then proceeds to climb the bars in nipple pasties and nothing else flashing basically her entire vagina.
Lesbian Guard #1: Told you she didn’t have a dick.
Lesbian Guard #2: Too bad.
Because of my aforementioned arguments and clearly stated brilliances of Gaga, I feel absolutely no hesistation in proclaiming that she is the defining musical presence of our generation. Call her the next Madonna or whatever you want , but know that she has solidified her perpetual presence at the forefront of contemporary pop music. My validation comes in the simple fact, that “Telephone” is arguably the worst song off of Fame Monster, so to create a video of such defininable excellence is nothing short of amazing.
I look forward to the countless Gaga classics that the future is sure to bring as my heart is slowly ceded to her, but for now I’ll probably just go home and jerk off to “Telephone”.
Here’s the video so you can enjoy it as much as I did.