Now Wait One Hot Pop Minute

Okay … Britney.

You know who I mean. No, she’s not one you’d tag as a women’s issues champion, and yes, yes, she often wears the wrong things. Regardless, the specter known as Ms. Spears came out to play at MTV’s Video Music Awards on Sept. 9.

Only she didn’t. Hardly. It was garish and awful. “Train wreck” doesn’t cut it. More like witnessing Bambi and Littlefoot�s mothers being slaughtered at the same time. Indeed, Britney did not relinquish her doe-in-the-headlights look while shuffling and stumbling around the stage like she’d just finished a marathon (or a monster margarita).

Look into those eyes if you can even watch the video: She is empty. She is profoundly sad. Don’t kid yourself, Brit – you need a physician. A psych. You need professional help!

And this at the start of a week when her two young sons turned 1 and 2 years old, respectively. Oh yes, them. Too bad the overreaching MTV hostess followed Britney’s performance by fiendishly drumming up said sons, calling them “the cutest mistakes” she’d ever seen. Egad, you heinous cur.

If anything, the way this young woman’s life is going indicates what quality of parenting she herself received. This is also profoundly sad. Sins of the fathers � and mothers � trickling down onto the hair extensions of the young.

Kanye West, Captain Ego hisself, was right: She got exploited this September. But she always has been. A whole kennel of pop tarts and tabloid czars on the landscape owe their meals to her.

Take for one the fembot known as Rihanna, that Barbados-born no-talent ass clown. First, for the record, I have seen her live � or, in her case, dead. But there she was, whisper-giggling with a girlfriend in the front row at Britney’s monstrosity and yet noticeably doing precious little herself in a couple flat (and flat-footed) performances on the same night.

Britney’s no Charlotte Church, mind you, but at least she’s got moves. (Let’s say they’re in storage.) If you thought she was a sorry singer, play a clip of that atrocious would-be ballad “Unfaithful” from Rihanna. Or better still, don’t. Talk about some dirty pap. You will lash out irrationally. Your car will leave the road. Too bad, as Alicia Keys could have made it smokin’. While I admit digging those ultra-catchy “SOS” and “Umbrella” ditties, they’re all we need from Rihanna. She’s got nothin’. May her career perish. Poof � be gone!

Meanwhile, I root for Britney. I no longer do so in secret. She�s a talented, spirited performer (when healthy). She�s a mother, a daughter, and a human being. Yes, others are those things, too, but others are also mentally and emotionally stable. This one’s not. Not right now.

Spears was sweet 16 when the bubblegum pop craze began in 1998. She ignited that crap! That, or her handlers did. To riff on the Smiths’ song now, “It’s time the tale were told, of how you took a girl and you made her old.”

We are the world, and if we’re not careful, we’re going to see this one end up like Norma Jean, “never knowing who to cling to when the rain set in.” And that would not be pretty. That would be tragic.

It so happens that this new “Gimme More” track is blazing. So she’s got the song; she remains sorely in need of a savior. So who�s got baby�s back? Who’s gonna break her fall?

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