Wow, my blog is falling on hard times when I'm posting about this stuff. First Anna Nicole, and now... but I admit this weirded me out. This follows stories of Britney Spears wandering Miami, asking total strangers to "be her friend" - indicating a near-lethal blending of Ecstasy and tequila shots - and then trying to check into a hotel with only a half-scrawled credit card number to pay. Proving it matters not, having all the money in the world when you CAN'T FIND IT. Maybe Prince Ngembe of Nigeria can help her in securing an American bank account to funnel her money from - er, nevermind.
And now THIS. It reminded me of the underground horror fave "My Sweet Satan", where the protagonist enacts just this sort of horror. (It's out of print on DVD but you can contact the filmmaker here.) HOW? HOW does this happen? How does one transform from Britney Spears to THAT GUY?
And why do we care? What is so creepy about this? I guess it has a personal dimension as I've known and even been good friends with women who've been as bad off mentally (and without the deep pockets for only the best rehab centers that Ms Spears has), and it's hard to watch. Is it the Satanic aspects? Frankly, I know Satanists and they're good kids, with jobs and families and stuff. As much as your rational brain understands it's all lies and superstition, the fear is imbedded in your heart and these sounds and images conjure a chill that weakens you. As a movie writer and fan, I know Fear is not something you can control! Is it the blogging jackals from the industry, online now trying to convince us the story was just made up? Like when Kurt Cobain was just suffering from narcolepsy. How many thousands do the entertainment industry protect from prison and mental institutions every year? I always wonder.
I guess the only upside of this story is, Britney's next album is gonna be AMAZING. It will truly rock, If there is one. Seriously! Could this be her drop-acid-on-the-Love-Train-to-India moment? Her Sandbox in the living room? Yes, I'm referring to revered artists who were called bubblegum, and teenybopper, and "children's records" and worse in their salad days. You can huff self-righteously all you want, but get ready for Britney 2.0. Produced by Rick Rubin.
"For those of you who seek the reality behind Hollywood's most cherished characters...You probably shouldn't." - Berke Breathed
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