Ok, Ok, this topic is about as relevant as a Rush Limbaugh diatribe on Ebonics from 1982, but who gives a fuck? It was on my mind this morning so I'm going to write about it now.

J-Lo...what the fuck? Is it just me or has anybody else noticed that this "singer" can't sing? She just can't! I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't that be, at least superficially, a sort of requirement for getting a record deal? What is the piece of logic that I'm missing here?

The GIRL CAN...NOT...SING!!!!!

This I know because I was stuck in a Taxi with a dude the other day who had an actual J-Lo CD probably entitled Glitter or Bling-Bling or Twinkle after her cat or some other god forsaken piece of crap. What kind of title do you think Edgar Allan Poe (I mention him because he's a real writer at least) would have used? But even Poe never came up with anything as horrific as sitting around listening to God-awful J-Lo for an hour or so. She's bad enough for just one song, but when you have to listen to her again and again and again it becomes quite literally painfully apparent that the girl's voice is only capable of even approaching one note, and even that meager swipe at musical actualization cannot be sustained or maintained for more than a few fleeting seconds.

A 35-minute record...impossible! Yet it exists! Thus beakons the apocalypse.

She can't act either by the way. She dances OK, but no better than any legion of strippers that can be found in any sleazy quarter of any broken ally in all the world...and not nearly as well as even a fifty year old woman with dangling tricepts here in Peru (that's why I live here, not for the fifty-year olds, but for their teenage counterparts....well, the fifty-year olds too I suppose).

I can only imagine what a day in the life of J-Low, must be like. The chick's got to live in this self-imposed world of delusion and terror that one day her completely readily perceivable lack of talent will be completely and readily perceived. In fact, J-Low and myself are probably the only two people in the world who know how completely ordinary and mediocre she is.

You know, in the past it would have kind of pissed me off that fate and the vast stupidity of the masses would conspire to allow millions of dollars to pile up around someone so inherently incapable of doing anything productive with it. I mean, the girl weilds enough power to radically change the face of her times (at least) with acts of benevolence and generosity, or perhaps guidance of the lower plebians into the gates of self-realilzation. But she's just going to spend millions on painting every trailer house and waiting room that she's required to spend more than five minutes in a uniform shade of cream...all the way down to the plants and the magazines...every page.

Well, maybe all that's a blessing in disguise. Maybe that's the ultimate little disclaimer clause of fate that keeps the world from becoming too horrific. The simple fact that an idiot like J-Lo might be capable of gaining power and influence, but she'll forever be incapable of doing anything with it. Money will pool around her and then be whisked away by a legion of suitors who swarm around her like army ants, plucking, prodding, and carrying a penny here and a nickle there until, eventually, the whole fortune's been converted into bobles and trinkets that could be elegantly summed up under the labels, twinkle, glitter, and bling-bling.

Whatever, as long as I don't have to listen to her shitty singing anymore.