Joe Bauers, known as G.I. Joe, tells a tale about Madonna—how she has a brain that most men ignore, too distracted by the spectacle to notice the mind behind the icon. He smirks, saying that just because he’s been involved in making Madonna music videos doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a fag, as some might assume. “Art’s art,” he shrugs, “and besides, Madonna wanted a UN intervention. So I’m trying my best to deliver it.”
But what exactly is this intervention? Joe sees it as something bigger than just another publicity stunt or political gesture. Madonna, in her own cryptic way, has always danced on the edge of cultural revolutions, and now she wants something real—something beyond the theatrics of celebrity activism. She envisions an actual global reckoning, a UN-backed effort to confront whatever dark forces she believes are steering the world off course.
Joe, being G.I. Joe, takes the mission seriously. He’s been through enough wars—both real and cultural—to know that power doesn’t move unless it’s forced to. If Madonna’s message is going to be more than a headline in Vanity Fair, it needs boots on the ground, psyops in motion, and the kind of media manipulation that rewires the zeitgeist.
“Maybe it’s all just a show,” he muses. “But if Madonna’s right, and the world needs an intervention, who better than me to deliver it?”