Shiloh is an asshole (but I'm not telling you anything you don't already know).

Shiloh hates your BMI.

Canada's number one export is canola. Our number two export is HATRED OF PREPZ. Every five years or so, there's a Canadian teen pop sensation whose persona is based around their particular brand of Hot Topic high school edginess. The most egregious is obviously Avril Lavigne, but there's others (I worship at the altar of the forgotten Skye Sweetnam). The biggest asshole of the group is Shiloh. I know it seems hard to be a bigger asshole than someone who is literally dating Brody Jenner, but hear me out.

The hallmark of the prep-hating pop star is the notion that anyone who is either socially adept or conventionally attractive is a horrific person in the vein of the defendants at the Nuremberg Trials and needs to chemically castrated to keep their brand of hate from spreading around the word and infecting the purest, most altruistic members of our youth -- those who wear a lot of black nail varnish and sit around in their converted basement-bedrooms listening to Dahvie Vanity mp3s, smoking weed and cruising the web for sales on bondage pants. Words commonly heard in anti-prep anthems include "clones," "plastic," "magazines," and "whatever." Especially magazines. Prep-haters hate magazines because they tell us how to act.

They also hate wallpaper paste.

Number one on the list is Shiloh, who is from Abbotsford and it fucking shows. Let's look at two of Shiloh's videos and let her explain to us why not having bangs makes you a bad person, starting with Operator (A Girl Like Me):

In this video, Shiloh gallivants around town with her Manic Panic army while a blonde prepz gets her cell phone stolen (by a skateboarder, which is Shiloh-code for a "good person"), has her latte thrown in her face, loses her dog, and gets drenched in water. The video ends with her standing and crying about all of the assaults she has endured in a three-minute period of time. Sample lyrics include, "the TV says that I'm not the girl that I should be," "the magazines are messing with identity," and "I don't wanna be no drastic, spastic, superficial plastic clone." (Anyone playing prep-hating bingo now has a blackout, which is good because black is the only good colour.)

In my head, this video originally had a Lady Gaga-esque nine-minute long pre-video cinematic where the blonde prepz girl is revealed as some sort of serial cannibal-rapist in the vein of Jeffrey Dahmer, or else she holds the kids she's babysitting at gunpoint and makes them molest each other. Just something really graphic and disturbing that justifies the treatment she receives in this video. And then at the last minute the label called and warned Shiloh that she's alienating her audience and to just go ahead with the 'dancing on the street' version of the video. Because otherwise, the blonde girl in the video gets my intense sympathy and Shiloh just comes off like a dick. I mean... someone steals her cell phone! That's not okay! She loses her dog. She clearly loves her dog and seems to be an attentive pet owner. Her only crime is that terrible wig, and in a bad hair contest, Shiloh is the odds-on favourite everytime. Having a bad wig doesn't make you a bad person; it just makes you an America's Next Top Model contestant.

I can't be-weave it's fake!

The other really awful Shiloh video is Alright, which reveals what happens when you leave high school and grow up into an actor who looks absolutely nothing like you:

Here, we see how Alex, the jock who... maybe checks Shiloh out? is relegated to a life as a gym teacher (accompanied by a sad shake of the head, because it is truly horrible to be an educator), and Becky the cheerleader who gives Shiloh some side-eye and wouldn't fucking you? is assigned the worst fate of all: motherhood. Meanwhile, Shiloh's horrible stoner friends are given glamorous fulfilling jobs like video game tester, fighting global warming (not a job) and happy (also not a job). It should be mentioned that while only-person-of-colour gets to become a cancer researcher, she cannot be truly happy because it requires her to wear a white lab coat all day instead of some fly goffik accessories.

Shiloh fucking loves NCIS, you guys.

Tellingly, we don't get to see Shiloh's future career, which I'm willing to bet is not pop star.

I've been procrastinating on my paper in order to write about Shiloh, so unless I wanted future-me to hold up a photo of me crying over a sink while the Juno font announces me as a barista, I should probably get back to it. If you see Shiloh, though, do me a favour and throw some coffee in her face, and then steal her dog. Or her snake. I bet she has a snake. Shiloh's the worst.