Miley Cyrus Death Rumors: Her American Backlash

A couple weeks ago, I was perusing the aisles of my local bodega, clawing for a brick of coffee that wasn't months past its expiration date. During this pursuit, a pair of tweens came stampeding in, their muffin-tops spilling out over their denim cut-offs. They were yammering on about whatever it is tween girls talk about (boys, nail polish, and the UN's plan to earmark $1.5 billion to boost agriculture across Africa and The Middle East) when suddenly "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus came on the radio. At this point, girl one turned to girl two and remarked, "OHMYFUCKINGGODISTHISMILEYCYRUS? IFUCKINGHATETHISBITCH I NEED TO LEAVE. LET'S GET OUT OF HERE." Girl two tried to retain her composure, quietly offering, "Chill out." But girl one groaned and made a series of grunting noises I didn't realize the human throat was capable of generating. I was mortified.

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Not because of the scene girl one was creating, but because for that three-and-a-half minutes that “The Climb” was playing, girl one was a manifestation of my inner child. And wow, my inner child was a mess. Regardless, some cockamamie rumor quietly pinballing from social media applications to seedy bastions of journalism shows that maybe there was a precedent. Maybe America’s dunzo with Miley Cyrus and in the age of irresponsible Twitteration. Fake death reports are just our way of text-message breaking up.

Technically Cyrus is one of very few showbiz upstarts to truly win 2009. With all of its calculated Jay-Z/Britney-related lyrical drops and mathematically-derived pop hooks, “Party in the USA” is a textbook “good Top 40 song.” It’s helped Cyrus cross-over into mainstream conversation from the iffy astroturf of teenybopperdom. But perhaps the backlash started at how (gracelessly?) Cyrus handled this avalanche of fame and fortune.

After an extensive round of numbskullery on Twitter, Cyrus outdid herself with a more pointless YouTube rap and an extended discourse about the perils of the microblogging service. And then she stupidly blabbered on about having never heard a Jay-Z song despite the earlier claim in “Party.”

Basically she was her own undoing. We could ask where her handlers are and why they suck so, so miserably at their job of presenting Miley Cyrus as a successor to Avril Lavigne. But it makes more sense to pick apart this whole “Miley’s dead, you guys!” line of thinking. It probably stems from a sizable few who were fed up with Cyrus’ endless supply of insipid quotables and her untidy pop star façade. They decided that a proper pranking, while not persuading Cyrus out of showbiz, would at least send a deafening signal that the popstrel needs to take her party somewhere more receptive, like self-help seminars in Missouri. This sentiment then quickly turned into Twitter-related one-upmanship. And then enough barnacle-caliber tabloids picked up on the trending rumor and blammo! Miley was dead. A white Six Feet Under-esque title card flashed, reading: Miley Destiny Hope Cyrus / November 23, 1992 - November 14, 2009.

However, Cyrus apparently dies every 30 days. Then, like a phoenix, she rises again from her ashes. And everyday that Miley Cyrus rises, squawking passionately all across the land, is a party. Not only in the USA, but in the world.