With all this other crazy stuff going on in the world, like people dying and pitbull attacks and traffic jams and blood infections we tend to forget about the really important stuff that makes suicide seem just a little less attractive. Like Britney’s big comeback performance at this Sunday’s MTV Video Music Awards.
If you have read any celebrity gossip in the last however long you’ll probably know that miss Spears’ life has essentially been a colossal, embarrassing disaster as of late.
And where I used to maybe think “k, she’s a little dumb-looking, vacant eyes, pretty face, and she’s capable of letting other people write some good songs for her, she’s still tolerable and occasionally entertaining on a very base, pedestrian kind of way,” now, I kinda want to see her bomb so badly that she’ll have trouble getting a costumed-animal gig at Marine Land.
Yep. I want to see Britney Spears fail. Like, fucking miserably, irreversibly fail. No redemption. No anything other than her completely humiliating herself.
Why the malice? Cause in my eyes she’s no longer a celebrity who should be capable of mounting a return to form she lost that privilege when she unceremoniously showed the world her vagina several times, handled her children like dogs or accessories, shaved her head for no good reason and in general just acted like human trash. Those things no longer make her a celebrity and a star. They make her normal and uninteresting. And I don’t want to have to give a shit about some pitifully untalented lip-synching puppet unless she shows that she’s got something that I want to know more about (fame, money, free stuff), and she’s able to flaunt it with a degree of class.
Maybe that’s why it’s so in vogue to hate on celebrities and to want to see them fail. Maybe because we think they probably don’t deserve the chances they’ve been given.
Mind you, she’ll probably do really well on the show and make everyone fall in love with her again. It’s happened before, where the celebrity wheel comes around full-circle and gives someone two lucky breaks. Her fuck-uppery will probably be ancient news after this weekend. But deep down inside I still want to see the trainwreck, and I’ll bet I’m not the only one.
