Rantics

Not a girl . . . not yet an actress

By DANA MUELLER

I have always dreamed of one day being able to sit back and enjoy a two-hour commercial that would, at once, numb my mind while making me desire a cool and refreshing beverage. Well, thanks to Britney Spears, Pepsi and millions of adolescent girls, Crossroads made this possible.

No, I did not want to see this movie, I really did not, but my girlfriend did. (Convenient, isn’t it?) I know, I know, it is sad, but true. Yes, the movie left me dealing with severe feelings of shame and a sense that I had been violated at some deep core of my being (the therapy is not going well). I would like to believe that my girlfriend, as well as other girls, wanted to see Crossroads in the hopes of salvaging some remnants of a “girls take a road trip, yeah!” movie. After all, this is not a shameful endeavor; many people see bad movies in hopes of a cheap thrill, a little five-dollar chuckle. Hell, maybe I would be knocked off my rocker by Ms. Spears’ excellent acting skills or her desire to be seen as a genuine, original person. Stranger things certainly have happened.

I was neither knocked off my rocker nor was I made the happy recipient of a chuckle worth any amount of money! What my girlfriend and I did receive was a Pepsi commercial with breasts. There was some singing and dancing, with stomachs and hips going this way and that, but that was it. So I was not entertained, but I was put at ease. Think about it, what would happen to the movie industry if Ms. Spears did have talent? Even worse, what if she won an Oscar?

I fear this occurrence about as much as I fear an attack from a sperm whale—it just ain’t gonna happen. However, if this Pepsi-sponsored, pop-chart-topping phenomenon did take place, there would be a cataclysmic reaction of certain world events: Clinton would inhale, European women would shave and curling would be respected as an Olympic event.

OK, it is a bad movie, and you are asking yourself, why does this sad, sad young man have so much to say about a bad Britney Spears movie? I will tell you why, because one day it will not be movies and it will not be pop music; one day, it will be a way of life. I will be damned if my 7-year-old wants to wear a halter top because a commercial for a drink that rots her insides displays a dancing, corporate Hollywood prop moaning for millions, because I forgot to smash the television that morning. That, ladies and gents, is why this sad, sad young man has written this sad, sad article. This column is not meant to generalize women or support censoring, it is meant to entertain. Thanks for reading, and down with teenie-bop-pop.