An open letter to Katy Perry

Hi there Katy. Do you remember me?

No, probably not. I'm that little voice that keeps nagging at you, telling you to stop doing what it is that you're doing. No, not your conscience. That's given up quite some time ago, I'm sure. I'm that dissenter who keeps pointing out just how abhorrent a person you are.

Sorry, I didn't mean to confuse you with so many big words. I can wait here while you look them up, if you'd like? I'm not telling you, as that would just defeat the object - You'll never advance as an individual if people continue to hand you the answers to everything.

I couldn't help but notice that, despite my constant complaints, you've continued existing. That saddens me. What depresses me more, though, is that you've gone and released another album.

Did I not make it clear enough last time? Despite how hideous I found everything that you released into the charts, I still had to listen to the album before I gave a real judgement.

I regretted that decision instantly. It upset me. There are so many wasted opportunities for many great pop songs on that album - believe me, it pains me to admit that anything to do with you could be good - but they were ruined by your presence. Your hideous voice, your painful intonation and your atrocities of the english language that you call lyrics.

So, imagine my surprise when I found myself enjoying your new single.

No, I'm joking. I'm happy to say that you're even worse than you were before, somehow. You've taken all the positives from your previous album and just stricken them from the record. You're an idiot. You've actually ruined my day. I didn't think it was possible for you to do that. Along you trot, though, with a mention on the radio and the autotuned, pseudo-dance song that you call a single and I call a crime against music.

Please, I'm begging you. Reconsider the release of your album. I'm certain that it's probably banned under the Geneva Convention as a cruel and unusual punishment anyway. At least save some face and make sure that it doesn't see the light of day. It's for the best. For you and for music.

Yours,
Jacques.

P.S. - I'm not sure if I made this clear enough, but fuck you.