I remember this event clearly, for one reason: it was one of the first events that cemented my distrust of mass media (the next, funny enough, was one of the Michael Jackson hearings). It felt too staged. Too concocted. Why was she wearing the fancy uncomfortable jewelry if she wasn't expecting her titty to be seen by all of America? Why did the chest piece come apart like that? Why wasn't that Brittany up there on stage with Justin instead? Why were we all supposed to be talking about it? Even as a teenager, I was wary of this thing. It felt memetic and forced and gay.
On a tangent: the Michael Jackson thing was a couple years later. I had a job that required me to watch the news. I recall one day CNN had cameras fixed on the front of a courthouse, literally
all day, waiting for Michael to
possibly exit the courthouse. This is so that he could briefly be seen by the cameras while refusing to answer questions for anyone.
Meanwhile, on the little ticker below, completely ignored by all the talking heads arguing in the background off-camera, a few thousand had gone missing and possibly died in an earthquake. Clearly, the proscribed narrative had to take priority.
