Monday, 16 March 2015

Sexual objectification, my arse, Madonna!

Kind of despite myself, I enjoyed the recent Jonathan Ross Show featuring Madonna (and no-one else).

That she didn’t have to share the sofa with a bunch of ghastly luvvies or thick TV presenters made it all pleasantly watchable.

I think Ross probably went off the pre-arranged script with some of his questions ...

Madonna frowned at him a few times and shot him what passed for a few dirty looks (I think that’s what they were; on a face as immobile as hers, that’s had so much treatment, it’s hard to discern the exact meaning of attempted facial expressions).

But Madonna was mostly game for the duration of this show, and it was nice to see her back in Britain. She made it big here, after all, before she did in her native territory across the pond.

And I think there is something quite British about Madonna, strangely; something essential to her personality; not connected to her marriage or residency here.

I think of her as an ‘honorary Brit’ and I certainly mean that as a compliment.

I don’t think she should be dressing in such an over-sexualised way at her age, mind, but I will forgive her that transgression.

And I don’t think the likes of Miley Cyrus should be doing that sort of thing either; it’s demeaning to her also, as a young woman. Nor do I think that Madonna should have defended Miley’s antics to Ross. Madonna's arguments about that on the show were rubbish. ‘Objectification’, my arse, if you get my drift …

But she is Madonna. She’s achieved a lot in her life. She’s given millions of people, including myself, a lot of pleasure. I fondly remember dancing like a tit to ‘Borderline’ and all those early hits, for instance, back in the day in Norwich. Thanks, Madge!