Hilary Duff: Her music is the ultimate weapon in the war on terror.
Whenever she's negotiating with her record company, Hilary is the type of gal who repeatedly asks, "And I get to tend the rabbits?"
This is a girl who, given an antler and a sharp stone, might conceivably be able to hunt large rodents... you know, if the singing doesn't work out.
Hilary Duff? Why not Hilary Poon? Either way, her name sounds fluffy and adorable, like that fun-loving internet donkey in my inbox who makes sweet love to a different girl every day. There are a lot of famous cyber-porn animals these days. It seems like every site I click on has another mpeg of some lucky girl, frolicking in a herd of angus.
This is the kind of fun, family-friendly imagery this release from Disney's record label brings to mind.
Hilary's voice sounds like the noises girls make when they're being pampered with a big, iron mask, or caressed by a gentle razorback. She's no Cece Peniston, but Hilary is a cute looking little mound of tenderloin. She's got that Barely Legal thing happening. Dress her up in a schoolgirl uniform, wearing roller skates and licking a lollipop, and Hilary can tend my piglet anytime.
"Metamorphosis" is a concept album. The concept is similar to the children's game, "Chutes and Ladders". It all starts with "So Yesterday," a song I interperet as being a melodically infantile account of that Greek pelican, Marcos, who was tragically sodomized and left in a public toilet to die. After that, Marcos was "So Yesterday," it wasn't funny. I can't really understand the words, but I think the chorus goes like this: "Outcast pelican laying on the rocks - all the other pelicans rubbing their cocks."
In "Come Clean", Hilary bravely admits that she's white. Again, I'm not quite sure of the lyrics, but it sounds like she's singing, "Capacity zero in my head - I wish the white horse was dead." It's probably about the time she was allegedly observed molesting a dead horse. I looked for the video, but apparently, Hilary's hunchback assistant forgot to turn on the webcam and was subsequently flogged with a riding crop.
In the song "Metamorphosis," Hilary sings, "Watching the butterfly go towards the sun - I wonder what I will become?" When you hear this CD, that's a frightening question. What will Hilary become? A giant, chemical weapons spraying robot, with napalm for blood and a heart of pure evil? Or, is she just another Jessica Simpson, who very nearly became California's Governor a few years back?
In "The Math" Hilary bubbles over with extra-mayonnaise passion, singing, "If you can't do the math - Get out of the equation - I am calling you back - This is *69." Excelsior! Mentioning "*69" in a song is as clever as releasing an ebola-monkey on crystal meth into metropolitan Los Angeles. (Actually, that might not be a bad idea.) Nevertheless, these lyrics are remarkably insipid. As I check the credits, I notice that they're written by teams of professional lyricists. Who the fuck are these people?!
The songwriting and the arrangements are a mix of The Partridge Family and The Monkees. Also, the influence of Josie And The Pussycats is unmistakable. This kind of musical cross-breeding produces what I call a "white-out" effect, as well as severe and irreversible brain damage.
Listening to this musical adventure leads me to put forth the hypothesis that artists like Hilary and Britney will eventually crush Islamic Fundamentalism by sitting on the face of the Middle Eastern world until it gasps. Every copy of this monstrosity of an album should be dropped over Iran, with free iPods, made by slave-labor in Malaysia. Then the Middle East will be too spiritually devastated to fight. The Ayatollahs will be like putty in our hands, and gas will be much cheaper.
God willing, this generation of pop CDs will cripple Al Qaeda, but lets prioritize our targets. We can't use American psychological warfare devices against Americans. If you have a copy of this CD then for Christ's sake do not listen to it. Report it to local authorities and leave the area immediately.
Is Hilary Duff the product of many generations of one mountain family: Probably.
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