Priorities askew?

These last few days, I've been worrying that someone was fixing up a cauldron of tar and plucking the last Rhode Island Red, so as to tar and feather Ms Miley Cyrus, from Los Angeles, CA.

Over in Syria, the government is using chemical warfare on its own people, but more Americans are worried about what Hannah Montana is up to, or down to.  So the other night on the always-classy MTV awards she stripped down to something twice the size of what you can see on any beach in the country, besides Adam Beach.

And then she did something called "twerking," which is, from what I can glean, a suggestive dance step that uses one's derriere to keep the rhythm going.  Ms Cyrus did this unwholesome forbidden dance of love in front of Alan Thicke's son, who came to an awards show dressed as a convict from an old Alcatraz movie.

Meanwhile, across an ocean of some size, Syria is involved in a civil war which might lead to more of a mess.  Here at home, hurricane season looms.  People went to Washington to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King's dream, only to be told by FOX News that the dream ended because Jay Z curses a lot.  Some crackpot judge in Montana let a male teacher who raped a child - who later killed herself - off with a monthlong slapped wrist. 82% of Americans accept interracial marriage, up from 4% in 1958, but the flip side of that coin is that 18% of Americans look down on love if the skin colors of the people in love don't line up just so.  The people who dish up McMuffins and Triple Whoppers are about to go on strike, seeking enough pay to feed themselves and their families decent food.  Some madman who somehow became police chief in a tiny town in PA decided that he was Ted Nugent without a guitar and went crazy with videos threatening the entire universe.  Suspended from his job, he launched a website asking for money to feed his family.

My humble suggestion - stop worrying about Miley Cyrus. She is in the show business, and she knows that half the job there is to get her name in the papers, on TV, and around the office watercooler. Plus, she has already, at 21, earned enough to live quite a nice life and feed herself caviar and filet mignon three times a day for the rest of her life if she so chooses. I'd say, worry more about a country where people worry more about Hannah Montana than about a judge in Montana.