Thursday, December 3, 2009

have you heard the good news?

By now you've heard.

I mean, this happened what, six months ago? A year? No matter.

Sexy is back.

During the dark years of Sexy's absence I always knew that if someone were to bring it back that that someone would be a 120 pound white boy with permed hair and a bastardy face, dancing like Michael Jackson.

Now that Sexy is back, I fear that we're all taking it for granted. Not a day passes that I don't hear someone say "Well, I'm gonna go watch some E! network now" or "Angelina Jolie! What a dish!" or do a bad impression of Borat and say "Sexytime!"

When I hear these things I just want to grab these people by the lapels and shake them, screaming "Do you even know what it was like? Were you there when Sexy was gone?"

These kids, they don't know what members of my generation - The real Greatest Generation -had to go through.

You couldn't walk to the corner to get a cup of coffee without stumbling over dozens of out-of-work backup dancers. Shampoo commercials featured old men in lab coats monotonously talking about chemicals. The famous windows along 5th Avenue in NYC displayed nothing but bib-overalls on wire hangers. When people said they were buying a ... certain magazine "just for the articles" well by golly they actually meant it.

It was a terrible time, but America sacrificed! I kept my subscription to Us Weekly, even when the Hot and Not section was replaced by the Not and Slightly Less Not section. I put a Nicole Kidman poster on my wall, even if it was a picture of her from The Hours. I even started riding my bike to work after seeing that movie with Dan Quayle where he linked the lack of Sexy to Global Warming.

But nothing worked. Nothing anyone did could bring Sexy back. Did we give up hope? Never! No one gave up hope.

Especially one Justin Timberlake.

Justin thought he could bring Sexy back on the world's biggest stage: the Superbowl Halftime Show. He knew that it could cause negative repercussions in his personal and professional life, but he didn't care! He did what he thought needed to be done. At a precisely timed moment he ripped off Janet Jackson's shirt to reveal ... a boob.

Collectively America said "Eh." Those that didn't say "Eh" said "Oh!" and complained to the FCC.

Justin disappeared for a while. While the state of Sexy deteriorated even further, insane rumors spread. "He's dating Cameron Diaz!" "I hear he's working on a new album" "Yeah, well I hear that he gave up all of his posessions and hopped a freighter bound for Nepal."

They were all true.

While in Nepal he made contact with a shadowy but sexy group called the Mai Spayse. They weren't exactly sexy per se but they did wear scant clothing and enjoyed taking pictures of themselves.

Through various feats of strength and dance Justin bested them all. He was ready for the final challenge.

High above the plains of Nepal rests a mountain with no name, where even goats dare not tread. Justin climbed that mountain, carrying a candle that musn't go out. Gone for forty days and forty-two nights he was (don't ask), and no one really knows what happened atop that mountain. Some say that he encountered the very King and Queen of Sexy, while others dismiss that as mere hogwash. The man himself refuses to talk about it, so perhaps we will never know.

Nevertheless! When Justin came down from the mountain he was a changed man. Clad in a tank-top style undershirt and one of those fedora-type hats that I hate, he had rechristened himself "JT."

One week later he gave us this...

...and America was whole once more.

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