Demi Lovato tickets are gonna be selling like hot buns very soon - if not already - and demand from all quadrants will whip up a storm of speculation, gossip and depraved jackal-like behavior, most probably from those educated and informed enough to know better. That's right; I'm talking about you. You and your unquenchable desire for Jonas Brothers tickets, Demi Lovato tickets and other tweenstuff. And of course, there'll be the others, the lurking vile predators who are the secondary audience; human males of the full or semi-grown variety who we needn't discuss too much here. And I'm not just talking about the paparazzi with their "Miley Cyrus Pregnant!" headlines.
Men are very sick. This isn't news to anyone. While checking out internet search-terms related to Miley Cyrus recently, I discovered that "Miley Cyrus nude" and "Miley Cyrus naked" made numbers two and three out of thousands of individual searches. Only "Miley Cyrus" beat them out of the Number One spot, albeit by hundreds of thousands. That's hundreds of thousands of searchers, outnumbering the paedophiles many times over. What does this say about the human demographic? It says that sexual predators are sick, but parents are pretty ill, too; When Hannah Montana skipped across stages last year and made more money than God, Jesus and the Queen of England (but not as much as that rip-off merchant, JK Rowling) combined, there was a collective roar from the ugly, infantile id of pre-middle-age Yuppiedom; the nation's finest assholes and go-getters, who'd spent their entire formative years and young adulthoods being psychotically selfish, were throwing a major tantrum, flinging their baby-rattles from the crib, gnashing their manicured teeth and being a pain in the butt for evil ticket brokers everywhere. The reason? They couldn't buy their unbearably spoiled children Hannah Montana tickets because Hannah Montana tickets had all been bought up by secondary ticket brokers and were being sold back to the honest public at vastly inflated rates.
You'd have thought that these entrepreneurial Yuppies had more intelligence than that, wouldn't you? Don't they realize that in a free country it's all about supply and demand and the magical forces of the market? Don't they know, these members of the alleged cognoscenti, that the face value of an event ticket is lower than the ticket's actual worth, a fact which feeds the economy and adds untold value to the American way of life? Course they do; they just conveniently forgot about it because their screaming brats couldn't be quelled with a golden ticket (Charlie Bucket got a golden ticket, but Charlie was a poor kid living in a decrepit shack with two generations of his poverty-stricken family, so that was OK. The spoiled kids were engulfed by chocolate rivers, swallowed up by golden egg-disposal mechanisms, or bounced out of the factory blue (or violet) as can be, by the Oompa-Loompas).
But the Hannah Montana tickets scandal was quite the opposite of this chocolate factory fantasy, we're told; it was precisely those able to buy their way into the exclusive Miley Cyrus club who made it to the Miley Cyrus/Hannah concerts.
And boy did this rile the Yuppies. It made them feel small and impotent, among other nasty feelings they'd spent their post-high school lives running from like rats. Not only were they pushed to the back of the line, they were forced to live that fact out through their kids, the very monstrous battle-wagons destined to carry their anti-social DNA into the next generation. Hannah Montana tickets had ripped their masterplan to shreds. It was a disaster!
But that was last year and it's not important anymore. It's all about Miley Cyrus tickets nowadays. Or is it? What about Demi Lovato tickets? And Selena Gomez tickets? Something tells me there's a nine-on-the-Richter-scale type tickets frenzy coming our way, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it, even the spoiled Yuppies in their crappy SUV's and imaginationless suits from Mens Wearhouse. When the Demi Lovato tickets avalanche hits town, believe me, it'll make Hannah Montana look like a spilled coca-mochaccino in a pitiful, nameless mall. Selena Gomez tickets are gonna shower America's major cities like nuclear fallout. The Yuppies will form refugee camps, broken and smashed as they'll be by the ferociousness of the onslaught. Yuppie children will become feral, roaming America's suburban hinterlands, picking at the trashcans outside Red Robin and Olive Garden. Shameless! And who will smile sweetly when all the fuss has died down and American society has suffered this irreversible reshuffle? The secondary ticket brokers, that's who? And why? Because finally, the upper-middle-classes in this classless society will know how it feels to be Charlie Bucket in reverse. They will wake up and acknowledge the fact that event tickets are falsely devalued, and that the box office (and Ticketmaster) are the true evil. They will see, through Demi Lovado tickets, that secondary ticketing is a Very Good Thing and that kids who get everything they want in life exceed all potential experiences and become monsters. And so shall these dragons be slew.
See you at Camp Rock, then...
