Now, when I say music, I mean MUSIC. Well-structured songs performed by actual musicians. I don't mean country, because country is an insult, the equivalent of getting sodomized by a guy wearing sunglasses indoors on a cell phone in front of your family. I don't mean techno, because techno is for assholes and gay European men. It has no redeeming qualities except to piss off anyone in its radius, which only comes in handy when you hear it on the road, so you know who to cut off and laugh at. And I ABSOLUTELY don't mean this crop of marketing tools, er sluts, er women passing themselves off as singers.

The most favorite trend of the music business is to take some mildly attractive beanpole, have her take off as many clothes as possible without getting arrested, and put her all over television. Oh yeah, she should also sing, but don't worry about that part; they've got pitch shifters to take care of that. Just ask Cher. And don't worry about concerts; she can lip synch because these girls are "dancers," and it takes a lot of energy to bend backwards and lick your own ass for a crowd. Or whatever they do.

These are not "divas" or "singers" or "dancers." They are marketing machines. They're here to sell you the new Pepsi, or the next big television show, all with sex...Not music. The easiest way to package these women is to parade them around as musicians. And every time someone gets suckered into buying a CD at 15 bucks a pop because they saw Beyonce mysteriously drenched in water, Satan gets one step closer to cracking the Earth's crust.

For the most obvious example of selling hardcore sex masked as music is to look at CD covers. Any female "artist" today must have their half-naked body on the cover, or a huge close-up of their face. I understand the value of "sex sells," but this is an AUDIO CD! FOR LISTENING! It isn't a magazine with a 15 page spread. How many people say, "Oh man, she's so hot. I'm gonna buy her CD!" That's ridiculous! Anyone who actually does that needs to have their elbows snapped backwards Segal-style, and when they're doubled over in pain, receive a diving head butt from a midget.

I've devised a few visual aids to further ram and twist the point down your throat. The first one is called, "Which one is an actual Playboy cover?" Pretty self explanatory, here we go!

Odd that the last one portrays the most delicate vision of woman

There shouldn't even be a doubt here, but if I say so myself, and I'm going to, they all look like they could be real. They aren't, of course, except for the fourth one. The rest were taken from actual CD covers. Usually, confusion of Playboy and CD covers is reserved for 80's rock bands with a color and an animal in their name, or Ted Nugent. But now, even once-respectable women have turned their ass on their talent and shaken it violently. Who am I talking about?? Oh yeah, Jewel.

Remember when Jewel used to have class? At least I think she had class. She was the Homeless Alaskan Girl Who Could. Now she's a fluff-pop pawn, complete with shiny clothes and slo-mo hair tossing. Sure, it's nothing new, but it seemed that for every stripper Britney Spears, there was a songwriter Jewel. Now for every stripper Britney Spears we have, there's a DVDA porn star ready to service Carson Daly for their one hit. And yes, there are girls like Avril Lavigne. But she's fucked too, because she's been dubbed the anti-Britney, which is just as bad because it still associates her with pop crap. Won't be long before that gimmick wears off and she's wondering where her movie deal for Sk8r Boeeee went. First, learn how to spell out your fuckin song titles, then we'll think about respectability. Okay, I'm going to wrap this up. These women are untalented. They are attractive, to be sure. But they're using sex to lure morons into throwing down money for their shitty recordings. No wonder no one was surprised when Britney announced she wasn't a virgin. She's been fucking consumers for years. As a comparison, here are some covers of real bands. Note the difference. Learn from it. Become smarter for it. You're welcome.