Gaga Over Gaga
I’m here to say it publically: I love Gaga. No, wait: More than that, I might even march with her into hell. What’s more, I’m unable to properly explain why those feelings are so strong, though I’ll try.
I certainly loved “Poker Face.” Great song. It’s catchy, quirky and lovably weird, and the arrangement is great. Plus you can dance to it. (Really: I don’t care what it’s about!) I give it a 99.
My admiration is particularly surprising to me because in my “real life” I’m an entertainment critic, gifted at dissecting theatrical performance and backing up my opinions. I tend be “be critical.” I tend to formulate specific reasons why I like or dislike something/anything/anybody.
Yet even through the TV screen, Gaga--not yet 25 but so self-possessed--communicates something so personally likable that I find myself simply smiling and enjoying her. Without any questions at all.
Frankly, I wouldn’t care if Gaga never recorded another song. It is, in the end, her PERSONHOOD I celebrate. She seems like a truly decent and honest (enough) human being, that rare celebrity who actually doesn’t seem to take her celebrity that seriously.
I don’t know why, America, but I trust Lady Gaga. I think she’s intelligent, inherently kind and blessed with a wonderfully winking sense of humor.
She makes me laugh. And that’s what I like in a lady.
Viva La Gaga!