Are You a False Tabloid?

There’s just nothing better than when Britney pops on her computer and sends us all a missive that lets us deep inside her psyche. But in her latest Steam of Consciousness essay, Brit’s a little upset. At the tabloids. To wit:

March 30, 2005
Dear False Tabloids,

As you read this letter, I bet you are asking yourself: Who? Who, me? Am I a false tabloid? Well, I don't know. But after this posting, I hope you are asking yourself a lot of questions. Your employees are a reflection of your magazine. Do you, Us Weekly, In Touch, Star and other desperate magazines want employees who are honest, or those who are liars? It seems to me that you'd prefer the latter. I'm really concerned about the people you hire to work at your companies. I'd like them to ask themselves the question, "What am I lying to myself about?" Is it that you are 50 pounds overweight? Is it that your children aren't making wise decisions? Or is it maybe that your husband or boyfriend is cheating on you? Until you face what is going on in your life, I guess you'll remain a false tabloid.

Britney

P.S. People Magazine is great in my book

Wow. Way to cut me to the quick, Britney. I am 50 pounds overweight. And aside from their decision not to, you know, exist, my kids are total fuck-ups. I’m pretty sure Scott’s being faithful, though, other than his new obsession with American Idol’s Carrie Underwood. But, still, am I a false tabloid? It’s a question I really should ask myself. It’s important. Britney wants me to.

Here’s what strikes me about the letter. Way to go with the proper punctuation on those quotations, there, Brit. That’s, like, intermediate grammar and you really surprised me. But, really, what is Britney so upset about? Is she upset that all the tabloids are reporting she is pregnant simply because the girls have doubled in size, her tummy is bulging and she’s been on a Cheetoh binge for months? Why would anyone think you’re pregnant, Brit? It’s not like you’ve been writing “Stream of Consciousness” essays about wanting to fill the world with lots of tiny little Federlines. Except you have totally been doing that. In fact, honey, let’s be honest. You don’t want the “false tabloids” to stop writing about you (And seriously, girl, it’s called redundancy and redundancy is inelegant. “Tabloids” will do.) You just want to piss them off so they’ll write more about you. That’s why you called them fat cuckolds with rowdy children. You want then to call you a name back. Because that is free press. And since you’ve all but stopped recording, touring or appearing in public without either your thong showing or Cool Ranch dust on your face, you need that free press. We don’t talk about you all that much right now. Even The Fug Girls spend more time talking about Courtney Peldon these days than they do you. And when Peldon is stealing your thunder, you know you’re in the tall grass, you're in the weeds. So you need some attention. And another marriage would be risky and illegal at this point. So what’s a girl to do? Fire a salvo at the tabs and hope you piss them off enough to fire back? Get knocked up? Get your anonymous husband to put the bong down long enough to get on the cover of Details Magazine? All of it?

Remember when you used to sing, Brit? I realize that you weren’t all that great at it and once you’ve kissed Madonna at the VMA’s and been out-skanked by X-Tina, there’s really nowhere to go but down. But, Britney, love, let’s face it. Singing was your thing. You are not a personality. You are not a great mind. You are a popstar. And popstars have shelf lives. I know it sucks that Kelly, a girl who won a freaking contest and didn’t come by her stardom the hard way by being a child star on televisin, has overtaken you as the pre-eminent teen-bop queen. I know that it must rile you that she can out sing and out spell you. But, them’s the breaks. I know it’s early but I think it’s time you thought about retiring. No, for real, Britney. Find a hobby. And no, “doing knife hits with Kev” is not a hobby. Open an animal sanctuary. Become a missionary. Hell, Shirley Temple was an ambassador; I’m sure W. can find something for you. Presidential Advisor for Cleavage and Snack Foods. Something. But if you’re through with singing, we’re through with you. Actually, regardless of the singing, we’re pretty much through with you. So you’ve got some choices to make. Do you want to desperately try to hold on to your fame, through negative attention seeking? Are you Michael Jackson? No, you’re not. You’re Britney Spears and you are better than that. So, kick back with Kevin for a while. Learn to knit. Take a safari. Found a Summer Camp for attractive at-risk kids. Use the few remaining drops of your star power for good. In ten years or so, we can talk comeback. But you can’t come back if you don’t go away. And right now Britney, I think it would be better for all of us if you just went away.

But totally keep posting these letters on your site. Because they are fabulous. Please tell us more about Kabbalah.