So the economy’s not perfect. If there’s one thing we, as proud Americans, can count on, however, it’s the well-being of our celebrity idols.

Yes, those iconic airbrushed figures who we hold in such high regard, mostly for their boundless talent and perfect representation of our pristine, well-reputed country.

Out of all the hardworking Americans diligently toiling their way through modern day difficulties, they have most certainly earned their million dollar homes, four-digit handbags, and personality-draining cosmetic surgery.

Perhaps most revered of these celebrities are the musicians; a constant source of inspiration, their intricately woven musical tales of romance and pain voice the conflicted souls of modern-day Americans.

Why is it then that such artists seem to have been shoved to the bottom rung of the American economic ladder?

They are still making music listeners giddy with fresh, new songs. They are still flooded with a constant stream of paparazzi and desperate fans. Their grand mansions remain proudly erect, and their cup of talent remains brimming.

The sudden need for a growing number of music artists to cling onto established corporations for support is a mystery; evidence supports this strange phenomenon, but its origin is yet unknown.

AC/DC, for instance, is releasing its first record in eight years. There is, of course, a catch. “Black Ice,” and the new video game “AC/DC Live: Rock Band Track Pack,” are only being sold to consumers via Wal-Mart stores. The rock band/corporation duo has planned a temporary AC/DC store in New York City, and is sending a Black Ice truck throughout the streets of Manhattan, complete with samples from the CD to entice buyers (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27286261/).

Also looking to other sources for an increase its buyer market is the hit band Guns n’ Roses. Its first release in 17 years, “Chinese Democracy,” hits the public on Nov. 23, exclusively at Best Buy. Along with this increasingly popular mode of advertising that the band is using, it is also incorporating a second incentive for buyers; free Dr Pepper.

After all, what Guns n’ Roses fan can resist an ice-cold fizzy drink along with his head-banging euphoria? Sales should skyrocket at Best Buy with this extra reward for excessive consumerism (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27350676/).

The evidence is clear; musicians are struggling to keep up with the shifting economic tide. The question is far more difficult; what is pushing such artists to turn to corporate America for support?

I pondered this paradox incessantly after hearing this shocking news. Then, as if fatefully clonked on my head by a metaphorical apple, it hit me; corporations are simply taking mass production to a whole new level.

It essentially boils down the basic philosophy of every Middletowner’s favorite thinker, John Kirkendall; big companies (in his case, Wal-Mart) are brainwashing gullible citizens into flushing their well-earned cash into seemingly good deals, draining them of free will and good values.

Okay, so that’s a slightly extreme version of his theory regarding corporate America, but I’m sure you get the picture.

It’s especially frightening when looked at theoretically, from a “what if” point of view.

What if, for example, these AC/DC and Guns n’ Roses sales do fly through the roof? Gigantic companies such as Wal-Mart and Best Buy will gradually earn not only reputations for low prices and down-to-earth family values, but their connections with celebrities as well.

Soon, it won’t just be hard-core music junkies the corporations will be targeting; every American citizen will be at risk. Temptations will be lurking around every corner; whether it’s Broadway’s Best or DisneyMania, fans of every style and artist will be flocking to promotions for musical satisfaction.

This reliability on corporations for music will lead to dependability on a dangerous level; one promotion will lead to another until small businesses run for their lives.

The mission statements so many of these all-purpose companies advertise, ones explaining the business’ customer-first mottos and money-back grantees, will eventually disappear completely. With no fear of losing customers now that competition has been eradicated, the quality of consumerism will decay. Aisles will be coated in grime and dust. Employees will no longer have to be trained in customer service. Prices will burst through the roof, and buyers will be forced to comply, else suffer the consequences.

This prediction, although perhaps a more exaggerated version of the potential large corporations have in running American lives, enforces the dangers in connection with the phenomenon the music industry is facing.

     So beware, readers. Beware the advertising ice cream trucks. Beware the Dr Pepper. Beware the slow, painful destruction of free artistic expression. It may well lead to our ultimate demise.