T-ara's "Target" is your boyfriend's jizz

Picture this.  Imagine that you're a young girl living in Korea, not necessarily a huge k-pop fan although you probably do listen to some of it, and you've been going out with your first boyfriend for a few months now.  You don't have a lot of time in this busy world, but you make the effort to meet occasionally with him when you're not studying or working 18 hours a day, he walks with you sometimes and you hold hands together and think pure thoughts.  He's a little socially awkward but he's basically a nice guy plus he really seems to like you.  Birds chirp, flowers bloom and all is well in the world.

Then one day, in a rare moment of synchronous study downtime, he invites you to his place for the first time.  He seems like such a great guy, really.  Nothing could go wrong, right?





Of course, this requires careful planning.  You feed his and your parents some bullshit line about it being a "study session" and you get the green light.  You're really looking forward to it - this is a bit of a step up in the relationship and if it goes well, this could mean big things for you both down the track.  In your mind despite your best intentions to "take it slow" like your parents have been advising, a small part of you is already secretly thinking about where you can get a good wedding dress made.  You can't help it - it's just how you think.  After a nice dinner with him and his parents which was a little awkward but you got through it, he invites you to his bedroom to help him with "that assignment".  You're trembling in anticipation imagining your future life together as you both make your way to the bedroom door, and then he opens it and you are confronted with this:



What the fuck.  You don't even know who these fucking girls are pinned up on his bedroom wall, but your heart sinks anyway as you scan the room and barely a square inch of the walls is not covered with this shit.  They're a lot prettier than you, and he's obviously in love with them otherwise why the fuck does he have these huge posters up, when your picture isn't on his desk or even on his computer screensaver...



Fuck, he's got the same girls there too!  "Is this what I have to compete with", you wonder to yourself.  In the meantime, the smell of your boyfriend's bedroom hits you, it smells like a combination of stale semen and despair.  It's pretty obvious that he's been notching up some serious jerk time and there's no prizes for guessing what the fap material is.  You're pretty sure some of those posters that adorn his wall have been stuck there with his jizz à la the film "Happiness".  You're "in love" though, or at least that's what you told him earlier even though you think it's rapidly fading now that you've seen THIS side of him, so you deal with it instead of bolting out the door, but you're starting to wonder if you and this guy have a future together.  Over the course of the next few hours you become increasingly uncomfortable - all he seems to care about is his computer games and he gets stressed when you absent-mindedly lean on his posters which it's really hard not to do because they are EVERYWHERE, plus he keeps talking about some fucking anime or whatever and you hate that shit.  Eventually you finally get out of there and as you beat a hasty retreat back to your own neighbourhood you start thinking about ways to dump him without making yourself feel like too much of a bad person, because you're kind of chickenshit like that.

Further research reveals that the girls adorning his bedroom's jizz-encrusted walls are actually a k-pop idol group called "Tee Arr Arr" or some shit and their entire catalogue is basically just a cum-mop for all your current and future potential boyfriends' fantasies, rendering these guys completely impotent and uninterested in you by the time you actually get to spend any time with them.  A random sample of some of the more popular songs reveals the devastating truth:

"Bo Peep Bo Peep"



something about a nine-cunted fox that seduces guys and eats their livers, probably by sucking it out through their still-throbbing cocks just after sex, obviously a male submissive's fantasy plus teaching them that women are evil and not to be trusted thereby ruining men for real relationships with commitment and rings and mortgages and stuff

"Roly Poly"



something about liking "this" and "that" which has surely got to be a euphemism for some kinky shit because why else would that little tramp be so non-specific, she must be hiding something

"Sexy Love"



blow-up fuck dolls coming to life, for his pleasure, just LOOK AT IT DAMNIT, who needs a real girlfriend and commitment when you have a robotic hole that is prettier, will do anything you want and never complains that the relationship isn't "moving forward" as long as you remember to wipe her down afterward

"Bunny Style"



just like "doggy style" except faster, we all know how bunnies like to fuck, a few quick thrusts and they're done, and then they just want to do it again, yes this sounds like every guy you've ever heard about your friends dating and it's clear that Tee Arr Arr are only encouraging this shit, whatever happened to taking it slow going to the opera first and then having a candlelit dinner while gazing longingly into each others eyes for fuck's sake

There's only one solution to this shit.  These girls needs to be stopped.  THEY STOLE ALL YOUR OPPAS, the slutty wenches, and they're so good at it that they did it before they were even yours!  You don't have a chance if these singing, dancing, suggestively-flirting-from-the-stage-how-dare-they plastic-surgeried every-mans-dream fantasy girls get there first!  You do a quick net search and it's revealed that there are many other women in the same plight - finding solace in your mutual suffering, you sign up to an anti-cafe and become a full-time Tee Arr Arr hater.  You swap stories with other females of relationship despair and how one guy couldn't ejaculate on his partner's face unless she put on fox ears and did the "Bo Peep" dance, how another girl kept getting told that she was too tall and "why can't you be short like Boram so you can undo my pants faster", and so on.  Soon you're busy co-ordinating "activities" like going to every website you can find and leaving hate comments, downvoting everything positive you can see, posing as a distraught fan on various boards so you can try to turn fans of QBS against fans of N4 and vice-versa, reigniting long-dead rumours that nobody cares about and which may or may not be true but who cares as long as it makes T-ara look bad and then getting all your anti-friends to comment on them, and so forth.  T-ara gradually consumes your world.

All of this activity of course hasn't gone unnoticed.  Deep within the bowels of CCM offices, next to the room where idols are told to stand in the corner for 5 hours at a time with their face against the wall for having bad thoughts, is the "situation room".  In here, a bank of wire-tapping telephone operators have been monitoring the activities of the potential girlfriends of T-ara fans.  A pattern has been identified - girl meets guy, girl falls in love, girl is introduced to T-ara through exposure to guy, girl and guy have relationship problems when she realises she can't compete with T-ara's jizz-sponge-like properties, girl becomes T-ara anti.  Data is collected, committees are formed and meetings are held.  What to do about the rapidly escalating situation?

The answer: "Target".



Like everything else T-ara do, "Target" is aimed squarely at the genitals of the group's predominantly male fanbase, but this time it's teaching them a different lesson - how to give their neglected girlfriends exactly what they want for a change:



Look at the graphic similarity at 2:30 in particular.  T-ara's mobile phone computer game isn't a game at all, it's a recreation of a sex education CGI video, with an anime-style k-pop friendly facelift, creating a positive association between T-ara and getting your girlfriend up the duff.  Little devilish T-ara characters riding on phallic jetpacks shooting little sperm things at a big egg before they inevitably run out of steam is designed to teach lonely fappers the facts of conception, the life cycle of reproduction and the virtues of commitment to your one true love, in a format that your average fanboy fapper might actually pay some attention to.  Of course it's dressed up like a anime computer game because that's the most appealing way to present something if you're going to "target" young guys who barely pay attention to anything these days if it's not computer games, anime or porn (and all the better if you can combine all three).   Just to drive home the true love message, the egg is even heart-shaped.  At the end it's "game over" and the vaginal-juice-drizzled T-ara members asphyxiate on the reflux of their own spunk, having tried their best to pump the egg full of their wriggly jetpack-sperm.  They failed, because they're just a k-pop group, but maybe YOU will succeed?  Don't waste your seed, because one day it'll be game over, that's the implicit message here for T-ara's legions of zerg-rushing, Hyomin-fapping fanboys.  CCM plan to use the music video's power of suggestion to restore T-ara's reputation in the eyes of fan's commitment-longing girlfriends, one busy uterus at a time.

Well that's my theory, anyway.  I know what you're all thinking, but when the pregnancy rates in Korea start mysteriously climbing nine to twelve months from now, I'd just like to say that I fucking called it.

Oh and yes I realise I've completely side-stepped the musical content, but then most k-pop reviews do, so whatever.  Why don't you talk about that in the comments if you really must.