Poor Rebecca Black. The thirteen-year-old credited - can I say credited? - with having belched into the world the Worst Song Of All Time has been pretty much eaten alive by The Mob. Sound the alarm. Alert the President. Stop the presses. A quick run through for those of you who’ve found yourself quite inexplicably on a pop culture website: Rebecca Black is … Rebecca Black is … Oh, just listen. Parents! Want to know how to chip to pieces the psyche of your fragile teen daughter? It’ll cost you. For a couple of grand, ARK Music Factory, a Californian vanity label, will dress up your dolly, vocoder the shit out of her, and send her out into the big wide internet with nary a note or a notion to keep her safe. Like giving Walter Mitty a F-22 Raptor and a map of China, for fuck’s sake.