Alas, Britney, who is just another victim of the fame machine. Self-serving promoters take a talentless, not-too-bright beauty and put her on the treadmill, overdubbing her vocals on albums, dieting her into a size zero and promoting the bejeezus out of her. And then when she cracks, abandoning her to a nervous breakdown and the worst "comeback" of all time. I don't think she looked fat. She looked normal. Her post-baby curves would have been lovely in pretty much any other costume. The glittery bra, undies, and fishnets just made her look like an overage showgirl squeezing into a ten-year-old costume. At least now I can tell her from the rest of the bleached-blonde mechanical singer pop-tarts.
But that performance! She was always more of a dancer than a singer, and she just sleepwalked through that routine. It was clear she felt uncomfortable and absolutely did not want to be there. She was more interested in keeping the fake hair out of her face than dancing, and after covering her mouth when she forgot the words to lip-sync, gave up and just didn't bother. She basically walked back and forth among the frantically gyrating dancers who, rather than distracting from her non-performance, just called more attention to it. Her career is very likely over, as she hasn't got the talent or the cajones to pull off a real comeback. I hope she saved a lot of money, but I'd bet not.
The saddest thing about all this is the poor kid whose tearful myspace video is now the laughing stock of the nation. We've all been that age, people, and we've all had crushes on celebrities that made us do embarrassing things. Back before anyone had access to media, the worst we could do is mail our idol embarrassing letters and poetry, obsess till our best friends and parents were sick of the topic, and gush into a paper diary that eventually got lost or destroyed. No one else ever knew. Think back, and thank God that you didn't have myspace!
This poor schmuck has filmed his angst and unrequited love, and put it out there for millions to laugh at. He will regret this the rest of his life, and never know when it's going to come back to haunt him. He is very likely to be the Britney Boy long after we've all forgotten who Britney was. That clip will assume a cyber-life of its own, and now even if he erases it from his myspace site, it'll never be gone.
Unlike, and again I thank God, my diary from the David McCallum (Man From U.N.C.L.E) or Mark Lindsey (Paul Revere and the Raiders) crushes. I remember them well.
Once we give up searching for approval, we often find it easier to earn respect.