Miley Cyrus has given us a master class in millennial rebellion this summer, including a secondary course on cultural appropriation. If you don't mind (and even if you do), Cyrus is going to keep throwing up deuces, taking selfies, wagging her tongue, and — depending on her mood — bending over and shaking her butt if the mood strikes. The lesson we've learned: One twerk, and innocence is lost forever. Expecting her, and her brethren, to falter in the face of criticism is a pipe dream (she's made that pretty clear).
Yes, it seems like her generation can't (and won't) stop. According to the performer, they are coming in like wrecking balls, destroying the things that could kill their vibes before they even try. Of course, there's no better symbol for a wrecking ball than an actual wrecking ball. Something's made Cyrus sad, and she's hired the most provocative person in pop culture to bring her melancholy to life: Terry Richardson. While it doesn't have the potential to resurrect her lost Vogue cover, it could be the final shackle to shake off for us to finally stop seeing her as the Disney star she once was.
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