ME AGAINST THE MUSIC

 

Colleagues have long expressed their derision for a nitwit like me whose only idea of participation on our boob tube conversations is to furrow my eyebrows. I’m too healthy to suffer from the Chinovela fever and, as they say, too poor to afford television and gyrate with the Sex Bomb Dancers and sympathize with the Sottos. Upon watching a music video called Me Against The Music, I have never felt so privileged. Ignorance, indeed, is bliss.

 

It’s confirmed. My suspicions that the overrated lip syncher – everybody now – Britney Spears – is no music-maker. The 5-seconder confirmation never failed to solicit a sneer and a headshake from me.

 

Forget the lyrics. This bimbo never gave me the assurance she’d raise the bar. To make a technologically enhanced vocal collaboration and to tag the Madonna along in its video has been my prediction since they have swapped lauds. Madonna even held performances clad in Britney shirts, remember? But to pay homage to their infamous lip locking (the camera darts to Justin Timberlake) in this video is highly perceived as scarcity of creative juice in her part and her producer/publicist. Is this what Pepsi can do to the system? Poor GeneratioNext. Since it’s her video, I was compelled to see more of her dance moves than the bankable and boinkable beaus who sat silently beside the Material Girl. Everything was bearable until my olfactory nerves sniffed the awful stench of product placement.

 

I have seen too many career shifts in my boob tube-viewing life. Local living legend Robert Jaworski was a basketball court hero first before he was drafted in the Senate. Teen hottie Jovit Moya bade farewell to show business to be a law enforcer. I bet Spears won’t have a hard time retiring from pop music to lounge in the green pastures of porn movies.

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