Go for it, Rebecca Black: Have your moment, and eat it too

So Rebecca Black has a new song and video, “My Moment.” My friend Andrea Swensson of City Pages says this completes Black’s transformation into a “soulless pop cyborg,” but you know what? I say hell yeah, R.B., you go for it. Own it. Live the dream.

Andrea notes that the video, which chronicles Black’s glamorous new life of swag and singing, “embraces the whole new millennium ‘You can be famous just for being famous’ zeitgeist.” Sure it does, and why not? That zeitgeist is awesome. Sure, there are 0.001% of people who have some amazing talent that was given to them by God and/or that they worked their asses off to develop; those people are set. But what about the rest of us? What do we have to be famous for? Being famous for famous, that’s what—if we can manage it, like Rebecca Black did.

Rebecca Black and her people were like, all right, team, let’s go for it. Let’s put all our chips in a ridiculous video about Friday. People like Friday, they like cute kids singing, they like ridiculous videos. Is there any actual talent involved? Who cares? The point is: it’s Friday. We’re taking seats, eating Cheetos, and watching videos. Mozart is for Monday.

Just look at how happy Rebecca Black is in this video. Even when she’s singing about the haters tryin’ to keep her down, she’s still smiling. Wouldn’t you be if you were the subject of that multi-column feature in USA Today? Wouldn’t you be if you had a dance team, and a poofy red dress, and a band made up of your friends who—as Andrea notes—don’t even play their instruments because, hey! They don’t have to. Their friend is famous! You can hire people to play the music and then go away, so your friends can play air guitar and spray Martinelli’s all over the limo.

Yes, this is Rebecca Black’s moment—but it’s not just her moment, it’s our moment. You can be Rebecca Black! I can be Rebecca Black! We have the Internet! All we need to do is figure out what the people want—for example, a blog post defending Rebecca Black—and the big hits will inevitably, gloriously, glamorously follow.

Now, please excuse me. My limo is waiting.