Little Kids. Big Stage.

They call it Beiber Fever, but I don't care if it's Miley Cyrus-itis, Hillary Duff-arrhea, Taylor Swift-philis, Katy Perry-tonitis, or Charice Pempengc-iosis. It's all the same to me. Precocious youngsters with just enough talent to feed those greedy entertainment pimps who peddle the promise that everyone can live the dream.

We watch with amazement this "Cirque du so-lame", denying interest at first, until we're caught off-guard, singing along to "You make me feel like I'm livin' a Teenage dream...". I call that my Britney Spears moment. The instance that your actions inadvertently confess your guilty pleasure and you have no choice but to own it. Yes, you like it, you are not ashamed, and you stand pointing at the hypocrites silently saying, "J'accuse!", because you know they like it too.

Therein lies the monster in the shadows. This is the eye of the hurricane where everything seems dandy while chaos revolves all around you. That brief moment when we love to be entertained by the talented dancing monkeys. We are all supportive fans, until paparazzi snaps a shot of them doing jello shots out of Lindsay Lohan's navel while the Olsen twins throw spitballs at Dakota Fanning.

It's no secret to my readers that I like me some Christina Aguilera. I have no idea from what depraved bowels of my brain this attraction emerged. It just is what it is, but at least she has matured, honed her talent to excellence, and claimed her rightful place atop the decades most desirables.

What annoys us most is watching little children pretend to be adults like all children, only guess what? These kids are serious. Your kids put on your clothes, maybe a fake moustache, and play house,or doctor, or... Mergers & Aquisitions (I grew up in a Jewish home), but when we call them to dinner, the game's over.

Tell your kid to make their bed, and they don't ask you to put it in writing so that their lawyer can look it over and come up with a counter-proposal. I would pay to hear Justin Beiber's response to his mom telling him to clean his room. Scratch that. I don't want to know.

Truth be told though, this is not new. Children are the ideal exploitees. They love the attention, are scarcely introspective, and can be bought off with a toy and lollipop, but they eventually grow up, and almost always grow tedious. No problem though. They are usually quite easily discarded after graduating from re-hab.

Every era has a Shirley Temple, or Rodney Allen Rippy Jr. , but here's a brief list of kids who were huge singing stars by the age of 13. See if you recognize any of them:

Donny Osmond - age 4
Michael jackson - age 5
Janet Jackson - age 7
Usher - age 11
LeAnn Rimes - age 11
Stevie Wonder - age 12
Charlotte Church - age 12
Frankie Lymon - age 13
...and most recently, operatic prodigy, Jackie Evancho - age 10.

So I guess my guilty pleasure "du jour" might just be one of these kids. I mean, if you ignore the fact that Hannah Montana now has boobs, and a spooky come-hither stare that I pray is something she picked up in acting class, then why can't I enjoy it?

I didn't want to listen. I resisted a long time, but hey, these songs are catchy, and sometimes I just find that I can feel it in my head like ...Yeah. Next thing you know, I can feel it in my hips like...Yeah.
And the Miley song was on. And the Miley song was on.

Don't fight it. Let it go. Tomorrow, there'll be someone new to annoy you further. Enjoy today.