Has Britney Hit Rock Bottom Yet?



Must Britney Spears hit rock bottom before someone intervenes and gets her the help she so clearly needs? And is this mythical precinct "rock bottom" a sordid little Ana Nicole Smith scenario? Leaving Britney to discover her own bottom before intervention is sheer Trailer Trash logic. And perhaps therin lies the problem: Britney's life has been Governed by not Providence but Trailer Trash Logic.

This whole debacle presently unfolding reminds us of how much we generally detest the concept of child stars, whether it be Dana Plato, Danny Bonaduce or -- last but not least -- Dakota Fanning. It almost never ends up well. You know the drill. There is almost always a tragedy, a courthouse or descent into porn involved. The wonderful Ron Howard appears to be the spectacular exception to this terrible American narrative. How does one tell someone that they are washed up at 18? How does one tell them that the chauffered life of their childhood are behind them and now they have to work a 9-to-5? Gary Coleman seems to be handling it well, no?

The idea of a child out-earning a parent is simply wrong. This undermines parental authority. The lack of parental authority is the chief characteristic of the underdeveloped child celebrity perona. And child stars frequently are Mommy (and Daddy's) Little Meal Ticket, which is fucked up to begin with. We won't even entertain the idea that the child celebrity is, in some dark way, a vehicle for the parents own frustrated showbiz ambitions. We simply will not go there.

At some point the child, if he or she achieves a measure of show business success, will rebel. Sooner rather than later. Then what authority does the parent have over that child? Little. Especially if the child rebels in Hollywood, that Dark City which feeds off youthful flesh and has need for naught else. These cautionary tales are the very substance of E! True Hollywood Stories.

Britney Spears', granted, is now an adult --!-- mother of two. But her parents ought to have interevened when she had that quickie marriage (also known as "those 55 hours of love.". And, certainly the family ought to have put a goddam stop to her Frederline nups (following the very un-adult "dance offs" against her romantic rivals), which was a simply ridiculous event festooned with trailer trash. As the always smarmy Teddy Casablancas noted, oilily, of the Fixins at the Nups, "... chicken fingers and ribs at the wedding, and they went clubbing afterwards."
Charmed, I'm sure.

And as Britney's psyche slowly and very publicly disintegrates -- hair first -- from "Ah just want to have fun" rah-rah girl into some sort of severe depressive episode, we ask: Where are her family, her friends, and all those former members of her Entourage that have made so much money leeching off of her like the remora that they are?

I'm just saying ...