And yeah, the Beatles were horrendously overmarketed in the day, and there were those who thought them destined for the dustbin of history – my own sainted mother, back in the day, pronounced the Fab Four “a flash in the pan.” And the Beatles cartoon series remains the standard for cheap, cynical, wit-free cheapjack animation – but every single episode featured a Beatles song played in full.

Now, for all I know, Hannah Montana's music may be the single saving grace to the whole enterprise, the one lonely bastion of quality in a sea of shoddy merchandising. But I honestly don't know that for sure, because I haven't heard any. There's just this huge web of cross-marketing with no actual product at the center. It's just weird, is all.

Two things though: time is not moving faster. The fact that we as adults have responsibilities and are dragging our asses across the Friday finish line for that all-important check means we're not really living 365 days, but 52 days with a hell of a lot of static in between. Take heart. Your life is not fleeting, it just sucks like poverty.

The second thing: We're in a post-arc society where, even if Diddy and Kanye say “Dress fly,” the kids are still floating their waistbands beneath their bungholes. While everyone launches slings and arrows at American Idol, it remains TV's number one program. Survivor has worn out its welcome years ago and will continue to do so many years from now. Much like children cling to consistency, pop culture society clings to their chosen touchstones not because they're any good, but because they're familiar. It's comfort food for the boob tube, and Hannah Montana is a big, runny can full of weak Franco-American Mac & Cheese.