Demi Lovato makes Taylor Swift resemble Dostoevsky

If you wish to experience the full hideousness of Now, of our current age, condensed into one awful hour, then you should invest in this bucket of infected expectorant streaked with blood. It’s all there. The depthless self-absorption and introspection, the me me me. The self-aggrandising, the wallowing in victimhood, the complete lack of personal responsibility for her very bad decisions in life, the lack of discernible talent, the mawkishness, the stupidity, the facile political ‘awareness’. This is Demi Lovato, recent subject of an emetic four-part documentary on ‘her life’. Of course she is bulimic and bi-polar. Of course she nearly died of a skag (fentanyl) overdose and was a cokehead for years — none of it her fault. She had, like, real ishoos. Of course she spaffs her earnings on donations to trendy pressure groups. Demi Lovato is what America has become, and we’re well on the way.