Methinks the Lady Doth Protest Too Much

In my cynical moments, I wonder if Janet Jackson has an album due to be released in the next six months, for which last weekend's flesh-popping was but the initial media storm (no publicity is bad publicity, right?). I might try to find out, but that would require far more caring about a Janet Jackson album than I'm willing to do, and far, far more caring about her aging, floppy bosom than I'm willing to do.

Janet Jackson doesn't strike me as being much of an actress. She gives off that same elfin deer-in-headlights gaze on camera as her brother does. So I don't think she could pull off being as surprised as she looks when Justin Timberlake committed "wardrobe malfunction." I'm perfectly willing to believe that the mammary exposure was accidental (I could be wrong about this, but if we actually think otherwise, let's have a full-fledged investigation and then deal with the consequences).

Believing that, I find all the kerfuffle about it excessive and not a little hypocritical. Has Michael Powell ever watched MTV? Howard Stern? Did he catch the VH1 expos? on all the famous chicks making out with other famous chicks? If he thinks Janet Jackson's nipple is the most inappropriate thing kids are exposed to, he's out of his mind.

Ah, but we can't do anything about any of those. Free expression and all that. So we get ourselves all tizzied out about the narrow range of inappropriateness that crosses the line into illegality and pat ourselves on the back that we're fighting the good fight "for the children." And then the fat kid in the neighborhood sings a songs about how we're a big fat stupid bitch, in D minor.

In fairness, prime-time TV is supposed to be a safe haven for family entertainment. But I'd find that argument a lot more convincing if more parents weren't letting their kids stay up past prime-time, letting them be out at all hours, letting them watch all the R-rated sex and violence as they can get their hands on. If Baby Boomer parenting continues into the next generation, no amount of squeaky-clean television is going to save the kids. And if parents return to the old practice of setting boundaries and meaning it, J-J's nip will remain the silly novelty it is.