On Syria and Cyrus. That... rhymes?

Ergh. I did it. I finished Saints Row 4. I can... I can be... a normal human being again. Alright. Moving on.

Even in my video game haze of killing people with dubstep, two stories this week were so damn important that they penetrated my own bubble of creative demented destruction frenzy. Firstly, it was someone getting on their own creative demented destruction frenzy, but sadly doing so in real life.

'I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sounds of my population chocking to death on their own blood.'

So. Syria. Is complicated. The western world drew a line in the sand about just how they could kill their own people, but then Assad merrily danced across it anyway, under the 'Psssh, whatcha gonna do aboot it anyway?' mentality. So now everyone's scrambling to do something about it.

Of course, this is assuming that Assad is responsible for the chemical weapon attack, and not the rebels, as he and Russia is claiming. We and the ol' USA are claiming that we totes have evidence Assad did it, but are being non-specific as of the moment. So far I've only seen stuff that amounts to logical trains of thought that only the regime has the equipment necessary to deploy chemical weapons. I'm writing under the assumption that Assad did it, purely 'cause I don't need to add more confusion to this sorry tale.

And here's where I focus on Britain's peculiarities and not the human suffering in Syria, as Davy boy dragged Parliament back for an emergency vote ASAP because he needed to do so now to be able to jump when the USA said so. Which... didn't work, and the motion was defeated by Labour, Tory rebels and a smattering of Lib Dems. Awkward. Now when you consider the issue as a solely humanitarian one, regardless of the likely actual outcome, the haste to jump in is sort of admirable - trying to get in as soon as possible to save lives, right? Ah. Er. Um.

Well, for starters, it looks like we've got a another round of 'How far can I stick my tongue up America's arse?' something that many British people were hoping had come to an end after Blair left. Yes, we have a special relationship, but it's sort of translating into one partner becoming overwhelming depraved in bed in the hope of keeping the other energized. It's sort of embarrassing for our nation's self-esteem, really.

Secondly, it looks like after Iraq and Libya, we've got to a point where we're a little tired of trying to play being the world's police. Regardless of how things have turned out in Iraq, there's a dominant opinion we fucked up over it, and considering how Libya was going before the news got quiet didn't fill a lot of people with confidence. Afghanistan's being reported on in similar tones. It seems we've finally latched onto the idea of actually getting an idea before leaping into military action, which isn't a bad thing, I guess. We're still committed (kinda) to military action, just got to cross a lot of t's and dot some i's first.

Finally, we see that start of Tory tradition; turning on themselves. It's like having a Dungeons and Dragons group made up of purely Chaotic Evil characters. Sure, they'll get through the first few quests and do well at the beginning, but it'll always end prematurely in a flurry of back stabbings.

There's also the funny nature of the USA turning around to France for help, which had horrified many tabloids. They're taken umbrage at John Kerry's phrase that France is America's oldest ally - which is fucking true, you idiots. America started out fighting us in an Independence War, aided by the French, remember? It's what bankrupted France, that helped them move toward policies that would bring around the French Revolution?

Sigh. I'll be over here, using my history degree to dry my tears.

We could just try begging everyone that we are only going in to save people, no regime change funny business, in an attempt to get China and Russia to stop reflexively vetoing everything regarding Syria that crosses their desk. Of course, we already played that card with Libya, then did the regime change thing anyway, so they understandably don't trust us. Admittedly, we are more likely to be telling the truth this time, because quite frankly, the biggest mess about Syria is the lack of Good Guys versus Bad Guys that we can play off. It's pretty much Bad Guys versus Even Badder Guys.

So. What next? Fuck knows. I want someone to do something, yet I don't want my country to have to hold that ball again. But if no one else has the power, and if no one else will act... argh. It's an absolute mess. Perhaps instead of trying to convince Russia and China to let us run in and attempt to drop sweet exploding democracy at great height, maybe we could tell Russia and China that they can go in themselves and drop sweet exploding democracy at great height. I mean, it's fair, right? We did it last time, it's their turn now. Bombing Johnny Foreigner is fun, you have a go! Everyone wins!

Apart from the the people poisoned by chemical weapons and those accidentally killed by bombs of course.

Hmm.

Let's switch to the happier topic.

So the next most important thing this week was Miley Cyrus twerking on the MTV awards and Jesus Christ wut. Seriously. This? This was the second most important thing this week? This. Sigh.

Syria, Miley Cyrus, it's basically the same moral evil.

So she stripped down to a flesh coloured bikini and twerked a bit, and thrusted suggestively with a foam finger. Now twerking is a new word for me. I just always thought it was called 'ass shaking,' and was something primarily done in the background of crappy rap videos. Turns out it isn't, and is called 'twerking.' Great. We learn something new everyday. Sometimes what we learn is stupid, but there you go. Now when I heard that a young woman had stripped off and was suggestively jiggling parts of herself I just had to go watch.

To check how offended I should be, obviously.

And I was very offended. For starters, it's not very sexy. At all.

That bikini? Look, I don't know what the young hip and happening call a bikini anymore, but I expect, no, I demand, my bikini's to be much more revealing then that.

JESUS CHRIST NO I MEANT ON WOMEN, MORE REVEALING ON WOMEN. My eyes...

Secondly, that twerking thing. It's not very sexy. It doesn't do anything for me. Maybe because I've mentally made the connection of juvenile male rap artists ordering women to do it for them, giving the whole thing a childish, entitled thing, but, blah. Come back when a woman is stretching. Stretching, people. Or the sexy walk thing. You know what I mean.

Thirdly, she is 21 now I think. Yeah. But she's been around for ages on television as a child, and it's super fucking creepy. She's a child actress who's finally a legal adult, and appears to be trying to act an adult by being hyper-sexualised... which is once again, something I'd expect a 14 year old to do. Icky. The person she's twerking up against? His face is stuck as the 'Oh god no, I'm gonna puke' awkwardness throughout.

'Don'tgetabonerdon'tgetabonerdon'tgeta-well, I'm going to hell.'

So in watching, I was overall 'meh,' in terms of what I viewed as utter depravity. In all honesty, the thing that made me more uncomfortable about this event targeting children? The songs' content.

Miley was performing her new single, Can't Stop, which openly refers to taking cocaine and ecstasy. For a party song, it's surprisingly bereft of energy - it's more like the after-after-after-after party, where the only people left are those struggling onwards for just one more hit and hump. It's depressingly, actually. The anthem of people trapped by their addictions, some even self-aware but unable to... stop. Yeah. Totally child appropriate. And don't get me started on Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke.

You: What about Blurred Lines?

You motherfucker.

I told you not to get me started on that.

Blurred Lines is one of most rapey songs I have ever heard. It's... urgh. Urgh. Makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little. Wanna know some lyrics, actually quoted? Go on. 'I know you want it,' -'you're an animal baby, it's in your nature,' 'just let me liberate you'. Yeaaaaaaah. Those blurred line they're talking about? It's talking about drunk women. You see, it's talking about those blurred lines of consent, get it?

Fuck you.

Fuck you and fuck your fucking creepy, rape-approving song.

There is no blurred lines of fucking consent for fucking. There's consenting to sex, and then there's rape, you shit. No fucking blurred lines. When you're pulling a women into your bedroom as she's too drunk to walk... yeah, she's too drunk to consent, you utter slime. And that's not her fault, either. It's the fault of the dude sticking his dick in a place it wasn't allowed into. Great, just add another thing out there that tell's men that no, that's not rape, it's... just a little blurry, see? Fuck you. Oh, and there's a NSFW for work version of the song, where the models in the previous video are back, but topless, looking very bored. It just goes to prove, when you've got no class, you can still go lower. For your information, it's even less sexy then Miley twerking, because at least Miley seems to be spontaneously doing it herself, and having fun doing so, rather than what comes across as a bunch of tired women accepting a pay increase to stand around with their breasts exposed. And that's what they were singing to children. About drug use and how drunkenness means you can stick your dick in.

So there's where the outrage should of been.

And by that I mean focused on Syria, clearly. It was a women dancing suggestively (and very briefly) on a show that barely caters to children any more. Grow up, and worry futilely about actual crimes against humanity.