(One of these things is not like the other… From the left: Melissa Auf Der Maur, Ke$ha, and Nick Nolte in drag.)

Persistence and diligence are what is rewarded here at Scumbag Style, and the Widow Corbain has been busy. Since nobody asked her, Courtney Love has decided to announce her intentions to “save” the new pop sensation with the annoying name to type, Ke$ha. Her Twitter the other day was a string of totally sober proclamations, which in paragraph form looks like this:

“Ke$ha is in dire need of a vibe that matches her. shes being moulded into something not her that will fail. I want to save her… fuck Ke$ha I need to school her… Ke$ha I will save you. sweetheart you make me go all maternal, I want to save you from the jaws of impermanence and soul death… When I watched the Youtube of  you I saw a lost little soul… the u tube had a lady from RCA /Jive/ Barry’s nightmare correcting her every time she spoke, they grabbed pushed and she’ll be gone.”

I trust that needs no translation. Love has done a great job of developing a personality that is entirely incompatible with pop stardom, exuding a lack of talent, aging sixty years in a matter of months, and hitting the no-no drugs (there aren’t a lot of those for rock stars) with a dedication rivaled only by fat comedians. In that respect, she’s the perfect role model for Kes$ha, who’s claims to fame already include not physically fitting the popstar mold perfectly. There’s no way Love will ever be thought of as “sanitized,” though I bet anyone in her immediate presence wants to take a whole canister of Lysol wipes to her person, like that one kid in high school with the acne that looked like a burn victim and you just wanted to hold him down and scrub his face with alcohol pads.

Love’s slurring swamp howls do hold a glimmer of insight. True artists would do better to avoid corporate homogenization, and rise above the mediocrity little girls are so vulnerable to. And the best way to make little girls ignore you is to make yourself a heroine pinata that looks like Marilyn Monroe if she lived to be a hundred. Also, if you want to be a respected artist, you have to throw artistic integrity out the door, and definitely alienate everyone with more talent that got you as far as you managed to get before your inevitable implosion. Like bassist Melissa Auf Der Maur, a former member of Love’s megalomania machine Hole, who was not invited on the reunion tour there was such a public outcry for. Auf Der Maur said:

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised by this turn of events. I am disappointed that they are going to jeopardise a real Hole reunion, which I think would be great for fans and fun for us, the band.”

It’s not so surprising when you consider Auf Der Maur is basically the female John Paul Jones, and Courtney Love throws a fit when anybody with talent wants credit for a project she was on. Remember, back in 1998 when Celebrity Skin was easily the only listenable thing Hole had ever accomplished? Everyone wondered how Courtney pulled that out of her ass until Billy Corgan sued the crap out of her for not crediting him for making the album for her while she sat in the shower out of her mind on smack. Then in 2002 the big acts of the time (which did not include Courtney Love until she took over Auf Der Maur’s band The Chelsea) started trading members like Pogs, and Corgan and Maynard Keenen (A Perfect Circle) played god with the careers of Paz Lenchantin, Auf Der Maur, and James Iha, until Melissa got tired of it and released her (pretty decent) solo record in ’04?

Does anybody else remember this? Or, at least follow? The point is, Love’s career started with and revolved around famous, pioneering people being in her immediate vicinity, whom she distanced herself from once they constructed rickety legs for her to stand on. Haven’t bothered anyone in a while? Appear on the Roast of Pam Anderson, messy as hell and ready to show off the shriveled roadie hotel you call a vagina. Or reform Hole without an integral member. Or take an attractive, young up and comer and teach her how to be more like you. Why work when you can convince everyone to do it for you, Ke$ha? That shit’s for uggos like Lady Gaga, and all it will lead to is grudging respect and admiration from the community you claim to belong to. You should marry someone like John Mayer, and then convince him to commit suicide. It’s easy street from there.