Hole is in the middle of a summer swing through Canada that tonight finds the band in this prairie city of half a million grain-fed and hop-fueled Canucks, about an hour north of the North Dakota-Minnesota border. My own presence is unscheduled — I am catching a lift to my hometown two hours away, but first my benefactor has to wait for a 16-year-old daughter to finish moshing at the festival. We arrive in the parking lot as Love and Co. arrive onstage, so I decide to walk over and have a look — just in time to wave a cheery goodbye to the gatekeepers. Moments later I am weaving through the standing crowd, feeling very objective. Having laid out no cash, I will be neither obliged to work up a frenzy of enthusiasm to convince myself I didn’t get robbed nor blinded by rage if the performance falls short.

My preexisting opinion of Courtney Love is not deeply held — a channel-surfing impression of a loudmouthed self-promoter who, if 30 percent of the rumors are true, ought to be getting her mail at the zoo. But the music sounds pretty good, sometimes downright powerful. And even without paying much attention, I’ve been aware that the woman standing above me wearing a black evening dress and a guitar is arguably the most compelling figure in contemporary rock ‘n’ roll.

Love scrapes against nerves untouched by the Pokimon people clogging today’s CD racks. There have always been packaged performers around to shit out smooth little pop pellets, but marketing science now seems to be advancing at a pace cancer research can only envy, and the results have been predictably depressing. Latin polyrhythm becomes Ricky Martin; normal teen development becomes the allegedly engineered tits of Britney Spears. Even the return of the Boss and the E Street Band evokes a fairly straightforward emotional reaction — either you buy into Springsteen’s iconic status or you don’t.

Compare that to the Love-hate cults surrounding Kurt Cobain’s widow. She may have taken legal action against the veiled accusations of spousal murder in Nick Broomfield’s documentary “Kurt and Courtney,” but I suspect she didn’t really mind a bit. You can’t buy that kind of epic mystique. The general attempt to paint her as another Yoko has foundered on the hard evidence that, whatever else she may be — ex-stripper, celebrity brawler, junkie reclamation project — Love is no musical dilettante. Yoko Ono never stood in the middle of a raised, floodlit mosquito kennel in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and tried to play “Free Bird.”

That is just one of Hole’s Winnipeg, er, highlights, and like much of the concert it is tough to tell whether it’s simply a bit of fun or a sly attempt to find out if these Northern yokels know when they’re being mocked. At times, the bandleader’s scorn for the setting is naked. “I feel like I’m playing the county fair,” she grouses. Then Love displays her helpful side, offering the farm stock milling in front of the stage a ticket to greener pastures: “Hey, Winnipeg,” she says, “three chords and you’re in California.”

The locals are used to that brand of condescension and generally take it in stride. Besides, it beats the hell out of “We love you-um-Winnie-peg.” And besides, Love seems to be in good spirits, although it’s difficult to tell sometimes. Like trembling submissives watching every twitch on the face of a fearfully beloved dominatrix, the crowd waits under the always-looming threat that good-natured barbs could give way to screams of abuse and an early exit. Love, though, saves her raspy howls for choruses like the one on the song “Violet”: “Go on take everything, I want you to.” Between songs she reminds the mob that they are lucky to be in her presence. “I don’t know, people,” she admonishes, “we passed up a lot of money when we turned down Lilith Fair. We could’ve been eating crackers with the girls right now.”

Lilith Fair is much on Love’s mind — she even launches into a refrain of Sheryl Crow’s “Every Day Is a Winding Road.” Like “Free Bird,” it may or may not be a sincere tribute. Poor Courtney is probably only trying to be nice, but remember, girls, once you get a reputation, that’s it.

If it’s true Hole was offered a spot in Sarah McLachlan’s traveling hen house, it seems a genuine shame Love didn’t accept the chance to play the fox. As it is, she is left to play the fox for a congregation of lager louts on the Canadian prairies who, displaying the level of invention common to their kind, dutifully scream, “Show us your tits!”

That drunken rallying cry is a concert indignity that even the likes of Joni Mitchell have to put up with, but few female rockers bring to the situation the advantage of Love’s stage risumi. As a former pole dancer in West Coast strip clubs, clearly Love does not have to ask herself, “What would Jewel do?” What Love does is a joy to see, although not the particular joy her male fans have in mind.

“Listen,” Love explains, “the audiences who get to see my fabulous breasts are the ones who know how to use their lighters. At the right time they hold up their lighters, and in gratitude I take off my clothes.” With the predictability of a Kennedy tragedy, the crowd is in flames — lighters, matchbooks, hastily grabbed trash, arm-scarring molten plastic, neighboring scalps — all burning for the queen’s approval. From the stage, Love surveys the sea of fire and, like an experienced lover reining in an overeager virgin, she shakes her head. “Oh no,” she says sadly, “this is not the right time.” At this point anything I have ever heard about Courtney Love falls away. I am a fan.

A generous encore and then it’s over, as the crowd leaves with Love’s parting benediction: “Sorry we couldn’t play ‘Free Bird.’ We suck, but that’s what’s great about us, you little FUCKERS!”

She meant “fuckers” in a good way. I think.

Granted, Ms. Love has never been the traditional SUV-driving, cookie-baking kind of mom who posts incredibly detailed stuff about her baby’s poops.  But her recent slew of attention-getting Twitter insanity — and her 19-year-old daughter Frances Bean’s mortified response – suggests we are entering a new era of fail, one in which a parent’s awkward behavior isn’t of the adorable “What’s this button do?” variety. Instead, it may be more like “S#&% My Dad Said At Burning Man.”

Love, always a reliable train wreck and nowhere more in her wheelhouse of crazy than on Twitter, ramped it up last week when she accused Dave Grohl of hitting on her daughter in a lengthy series of tweets on her private account. She ranted freely about how angry she’d be “if frances slept with” him, going on about whether “the actual sex” was a rumor and adding that “dave tried to fuck me alot.” It was a display that Grohl’s publicist described as “Crazy Woman Says Insane Shit No One In Their Right Mind Would Believe.” And the young Miss Cobain, unsurprisingly, felt compelled to retort with her own variation on the classic, “Stop it, Mom, you’re embarrassing me.” Cobain issued a tart statement about “my biological mother,” saying that “her recent tirade has taken a gross turn” and adding, “Twitter should ban my mother.” She may be the most high-profile person to say it, but I’d wager Cobain is far from the only teenager who wishes Twitter could block her parents.

If you’ve never Tweeted your conviction that one of the Foo Fighters banged your teenager, congratulations, you’re not Courtney Love. But her tirade does represent an emerging dynamic that plays out in subtler ways across social media platforms. I’ve seen it with my own wincing eyes from parents who include their teenagers among their Facebook friends – and who post freely of their hangovers, their dating disasters, and their overall rock ‘n’ roll excesses. Those incriminating, spring break-like photos of the half-drunk lady from the party? Yeah, college kid, that’s YOUR MOM. It’s not that children are likely to be blithely unaware of their hipster parents’ lifestyles. But there’s a new blurring of the once easy-to-maintain tactful distance between parents and their young adult offspring, one complicated by the fact that many of us are cavorting on the road of excess a mere few steps ahead of our children.

Love has, in her typical fashion, attempted to kiss and make up with her daughter in the same format in which she originally speculated about her sex life – on Twitter. On Saturday, she posted, “Bean, sorry I believed the gossip. Mommy loves you.”

Mommy no doubt does. But the Gen-X parents who never quite settled down, who grapple with their own varying levels of maturity, now share the Internet with their teenagers. And the children whose shaky first steps and lost teeth have been documented all over Flickr and Twitter and Facebook are now turning into grown-ups themselves, with their own online lives. And while it’s our right as adults to party and to have sex and enjoy life, it’s also our job as parents to not be stupid. If your kid is old enough to read, your kid is old enough to be embarrassed by your Twitter stream. That’s why Love’s meltdown is a cautionary – if extreme – reminder that a typical Old Person Fail may no longer be an adorable “reply all” goof. Instead, it’s something that involves more ranting and thoughtlessness and way too much information. In other words, it looks an awful lot like a Young Person Fail.

just like to come here, my checks are on a wierd sahcedule so bear with, per paypal plus my paypal account has had wierd stuff happen eg salaries and theft, so im very persnickity about it, but if i really like it youll get paid , my cpa hates the word”etsy: ” but theres vendors on here i adore nd i al;ways discover new inspiring stuff.

Well, that doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in a seller, does it? Nor should it: Courtney was already sued by Etsy user Dawn Simorangkir, an Austin, Texas, resident who runs a fashion line called Boudoir Queen. In 2009, Dawn sued Courtney after the singer went on a smear campaign, attacking the designer on Twitter, MySpace and the Etsy forums. The lawsuit filed by Simorangkir claimed that Love went into a rage when she was sent a $4K bill for a dress designed for her by the Boudoir label. Among other choice phrases Courtney employed in her Internet rant, “nasty lying hosebag thief,” and “cocaine dealer, thief, embezzler, racist and a homophobe,” were enough to warrant a libel suit. Of course, there was a ton more that Courtney said, but as you might expect, it’s pretty incoherent. From a MySpace post in 2009:

my aassnt cals me cos etsy vendors have called her cryong fpr usingthe owrd “flapper” sje says its everyday and i dont like a BULLY and noone else in the fashion industry does either shes a geniunly nasty person so i dont kow what makinh her “fakous ” willactuaLLY DO FOR HER AT SOME POINT SHELL HAVE TO SHOW SHER FACT AND THAT BLACK CLPUD OF VAMPITIC ENERGY THAT IS AROUND PEOPLE WHO SOLD DRUGS OR WERE MOLESTED OR its that grey and biyts of black in the aura, im toomuch of aa apussy about people withthis enercy nd the thing i have GIT to learnis this UNLESS THY A HAVE SOME INSANELY BRILLIANT INFRASTRUCTURE AND THEY DONT EVER SOEAK EVER. those people NEVER MAKE IT IN THEREAL WORLD EVER>

ive beeen assured from etsy she’ll be removed and banished but its not enough , we had a dal i gave her a VAST amount of money

clothes id been collecting for 8 years and 40,000$

Now, it would be one thing if Courtney’s recently discovered profile had been on Etsy since before the lawsuit (there’s no news of her ever being specifically banned from the site), but her account says she’s only been a member since 2010. The case was only settled out of court in February of this year (which is probably why Courtney says her cpa “hates the word ‘etsy:”).

But I wonder: Has anyone verified the account to make sure it’s not a fake? And if it is Courtney, why hasn’t Etsy taken down her profile? She has clearly violated the site’s terms of service, which states that a user can be terminated or suspended for actions including:

Be(ing) defamatory, trade libelous, unlawfully threatening, unlawfully harassing, impersonate or intimidate any person (including Etsy staff or other users), or falsely state or otherwise misrepresent your affiliation with any person, through for example, the use of similar email address, nicknames, or creation of false account(s) or any other method or device

Real or fake, that account needs to be taken down by Etsy mods ASAP.

“She may be doing fine at the moment, but I’m worried about her future. She’s very young, and she’s very talented, but she doesn’t seem to have any female friends. Or any straight guy friends for that matter. Instead, she surrounds herself with this coterie of gay stylists and advisors who’ve turned her into this weird, sexless Barbie doll. I was raised by gay guys myself, and I turned out all right in the end. But you know, you can only pull off this meat-dress act for so long. If she doesn’t watch out she’ll turn into a lonely drag queen. Straight guys just aren’t in to that kind of thing. “

It’s true that Gaga’s main difference from Madonna is her desexualization; she does resemble a drag queen onstage more than a female pop star. And that’s a large part of her appeal among her young gay fan base, who look to her as a sign that anyone can be “born this way” and still loved for who they are.

But anyone who knows Gaga’s history also knows she’s admitted to being bisexual and was, up until recently, dating a bartender/diet book author named Luc Carl. She’s admitted to working out her issues with her relationship through song, and there is a rejection of our culturally accepted ideas of femininity in that. But she’s in no way “sexless,” and as was evidenced in last week’s “Saturday Night Live” short “3-Way,” Gaga has no problem taking off the makeup and being a girl.

I doubt she’ll end up a “lonely drag queen” just because she’s a gay male icon. What do you think?

See, celebrities have a difficult time with Twitter. On the one hand, it gives them direct access to their fans in a way that was previously impossible, allowing them to promote the very best version of themselves while giving the illusion that they are letting people into their private thoughts and lives. On the other hand, sometimes famous people — like the rest of us — forget that there is a difference between thinking something and tweeting it, and end up oversharing some thought or private picture.

Since celebrities for the most part chose this profession because they wanted people to pay attention to them, they are caught at odds with revealing too much and revealing nothing at all. On the one end of the spectrum you have people like Tori Spelling and Snooki, who takes pictures of their family and friends and update every two seconds, and on the other you have people like Charlie Sheen and (previously) 50 Cent, who don’t actually reveal anything about themselves because they have someone managing their account for them. Franco fell more in the middle, and was actually pretty good at using the service to show people some new and interesting things instead of writing about what he ate that day or how his fans can get a 15 percent discount off Armani Exchange by clicking a link.

I have hope that James Franco isn’t off Twitter for good. After all, there is already a set precedent for the “I wish I could quit you” celebrity tweeter, wherein a short hiatus is taken from the micro-blogging service before fans revolt (or lose interest), causing the person to sign up again and announce their triumphant return against all the “haters.” Here are just five examples of this behavior, which I call “The Twit it and Quit it effect”:

1. Courtney Love

How long she quit for: Who can keep count? She’s quit three times.

Why she quit: To reform her image after posting racy pics, and also because she lost a lawsuit for $430,000 for writing mean things about a designer.

Why she rejoined: To post more racy pics (and then quit again).

2. Miley Cyrus

How long she quit for: A year and a half.

Why she quit: Her “Last Song” co-star for Liam Hemsworth convinced her it was a good idea. Then she rapped about it.

Why she rejoined: Technically she hasn’t, but as of last week she’s been posting under her producer Rock Mafia’s page http://twitter.com/#!/rock_mafia, saying ” When I need to speak out I will tweet from @Rock_Mafia ROCK MAFIA FOREVER xMC.” She’s already started posting sexy photos from the account. 

3. LeAnn Rimes

How long she quit for: Six days.

Why she quit: Didn’t like the haters who talked smack after she started seeing Eddie Cibrian while they were both married to other people.  “It’s unhealthy for me and my family to have to read negative comments from people [whose] opinions have no bearing on my life,” said Rimes.

Why she rejoined: Apparently out of boredom. She managed to take a break for almost a week, before signing on and writing to her fans ” “Hi twitter land! Miss u all and thought I’d just say hello! I have so many darling fans and want you all to know how much u r appreciated… Hugs to all! Can’t stay away for too long.” That’s how you know you’re dealing with a true addict.

4. Trent Reznor

How long he quit for: Unclear, but announced change in Twitter account in July, 2009.

Why he quit: Fed up with lack of privacy, and the trolls. Promised to only tweet about band stuff until Twitter gets better at blocking.

Why he rejoined: It’s unclear if Trent ever officially made a change back over, since he definitely is more reserved on Twitter than he used to be. Still, he’s been using the account to post pics of himself and Christian Bale, so that’s better than nothing.

5. Amanda Bynes

How long she quit for: Four months

Why she quit: No explanation given, she just shut down her account.

Why she rejoined: Apparently the hiatus was to build buzz for her new and improved Twitter account that she started four months later. It was kind of like when she “retired” from acting and then “unretired” a month later. Who knows.

Corgan vs. Love round 859 started Monday, when the Great Pumpkin (whose Twitter contributions usually have more to do with praising God and capitalizing words like “star” and “sky,” Emily Dickinson-style) tweeted a six-point list of his “thoughts” about the Hole singer. Making reference to her recent custody troubles, Corgan wrote, “the world is aware of your lack of responsibility, as seen in the gov’t taking away your parental right … Only u could abandon such a beautiful, incredible child who is smarter than u, cooler than u, and better than u. Oops, did I say too much?” He also suggested that he deserved more credit than he was given for co-writing songs on Hole’s new album, “Nobody’s Daughter,” twisting the knife with a particularly cruel jab: “maybe you should go someone [sic] nice+live off your husband’s money, u know the money he made for writing all those great songs.” In conclusion, Corgan opined (in words that wouldn’t be out of place in a Smashing Pumpkins song), “so have your moment, burn up in the sun that laughs at u as equally as it appears to celebrate u+sleep knowing u have no honor.”

Corgan, it seems, was responding not only to Love’s chat with Howard Stern Monday (in which she may have made some disparaging comments about Corgan’s sexual prowess) but also to a public apology she offered him last month on Facebook. (Sample sentence: “We have again created beauty from the agony between us, all the buried and unburied anguish, all that is true, that is gold, that is meant to be is within this endless and somehow eternal cycle of Billy & Courtney.”) So, shouldn’t Courtney — who, God bless her, has never been known for her Twitter restraint — be responding with some kind of angry/sad/insane meltdown about now?

As it turns out, Ms. Love may really be making a sincere effort to get a handle on the “Courtney monster” Amy Benfer describes in her review of “Nobody’s Daughter.” She isn’t ignoring Corgan’s comments or keeping mum about a supposed affair with former Bush frontman/current Gwen Stefani husband Gavin Rossdale (and I, for one, am glad she hasn’t changed that much), but she is certainly doing some self-policing. On Twitter Tuesday afternoon, Love fired off a few quips wondering why Corgan was so obsessed with her daughter, Frances Bean Cobain, and agreeing that she really is an awesome kid. Then there was the following laugh-out-loud funny tweet: ”@Billy you remind me of Bette Davis in ‘Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.’” Minutes after her initial messages, she started retweeting fans’ suggestions that she ignore Billy or that they take their argument out of the public eye. (Let it never be said that Love doesn’t interact with or appreciate her fans.) Soon after, she reeled herself in and addressed her followers: ”thank you so much for the support and my apologies for even responding a little bit i deleted most of it but the kid? my kid? really? creepy.”

I don’t want to debate Love’s parenting ability or who actually wrote most of “Nobody’s Daughter.” Perhaps Corgan really does have a reasonable complaint (although I have to wonder: If he can write a great album for Hole, why haven’t we seen any compelling Smashing Pumpkins material since the mid-’90s?). But for now, I just want to celebrate Love’s newfound self-control and retain my hope — for her and her fans alike — that it lasts long enough for her to give some career-defining performances and promote the hell out of the hard-won success that is “Nobody’s Daughter.”