Dear Madonna, I Think It’s Time For An Intervention

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Have you taken a look at Madonna‘s career lately? Because I have, and it's been like staring at the sun, in that it's a confusing, unpleasant experience and I don't want to do it anymore. I won't say that it burns my eyeballs because that would be hyperbole and my teachers told me never to use that, but there are certainly other things that my eyes would much prefer to look upon. She's been doing some very odd stuff lately, like showing nip onstage, and causing riots at her concerts by putting swastikas over the faces of non-Nazis, and it's becoming clear to everyone that she's addicted to her career. … So I've decided to take measures into my own hands. This is an intervention. I've written an open letter to Madonna, in the hopes that she reads it and gets the help that she needs and deserves. So if you agree with everything I've laid out here, go ahead and sign your name to the bottom and once we have enough signatures, I'll send it to my local congressman or woman, and they'll take action from there. (I think I've mastered the basic concept of an intervention, right? Right.) Anyway, read on.

Dear Madonna,

We're all here because we love you. Or at least because we've liked a significant number of your songs in the past. I mean it's not that we don't love you, it's just that we don't know you. No offense or anything, I'm sure you're a really nice bodybuilder person.

Ugh, sorry. Let me start over. This whole situation has me so rattled. You are an addict, Madonna. Please don't sit here and try to deny it, because you are addicted to your career. At first we thought you could only dabble in your career and it would be enough for you. We assumed you would stop before you started to crash, but you didn't. The highs were so high — you were the Queen of Pop, and the applause filled a need in yourself you didn't even know you had. At first a little was enough, but you kept on needing more and more to survive. Some of us here got scared, but I bet you thought you'd never come down. And for a while, you didn't.

But Madonna, you're in your fifties now. You're grasping at straws trying to be edgy and different the way you used to be, but those days are gone. You look ridiculous. You're acting ridiculous. I miss the Madonna I fell in love with, who didn't need Photoshop on her arms to look like a real person and not a robo-cop. (Note to self: Google ‘real life Photoshop' and see if there's anything we can do for the Lady Madge.) I miss the woman who knew how to be modern and cutting-edge without projecting swastikas onto people's heads.

You're a hugely successful recording artist and performer, but it's time to let go of your career, no matter how good you think it feels. I promise that once you get a little perspective, this will all make sense. But right now you're just making a spectacle out of yourself, and I don't want to see that anymore.

We love you, now please retire in peace so we can think back on you fondly instead of uncomfortably.


Your friend,


Anyway, thank you for reading. Please add your signature so I can get this in the mail and we can get our initiative passed and start tea-bagging Madonna. Or tea-partying her. Whatever the correct political term is.

P.S. Please make sure that any and all comments are accurately spelled and grammatically correct, so I can be fully aware of what an ugly moronic blogger I am and how I'm going to die alone for insulting Madonna.

(Image: WENN.com)