Oh, Bitchuary.

As I racked and unracked magazines at the Kmart and CVS today, with one of my girls, I chatted with another job coach who was shadowing me for the day. We commented on the covers of the magazines, especially the ones that were borderline Enquirer-and-"legitimate-magazine," such as Star, US, and OK. Britney Spears was featured on, I would say, a majority of these covers, though I did not do a statistical analysis.

"You know, the AP has already prepared her obituary," the other job coach said, and I would have gaped in surprise if it had been at all unexpected.

The AP, and the rest of the media, like to be prepared, sure--but if there's an office pool going around for the day Brit buys it, those guys are cheating. They'll know exactly when the day will be, because they'll have caused it to come.

I'm not speculating that Britney Spears' life would have been happier without superstardom, nor am I blaming the media for what are obviously her choices--marrying K-Fed comes to mind as a particularly stupid, or at least silly, choice that BS made all on her own--but the celebrity-worship culture she's become a part of is now influencing the choices that she has available to her, and that's not funny. The feedback loop of "Look what stupid thing Britney's done now! And to her kids! And she's a psycho!" is beginning to consume itself, but no one can manage to break free.

If the obvious desperation of her actions weren't enough ("She bought a laxative at the drugstore!" one magazine proclaims, and shows an insert picture of Correctol. My. The things of which scandals are made), her recent single "Piece of Me" should serve as notice on her state of mind:

I’m Mrs. 'Lifestyles of the rich and famous'(You want a piece of me)
I’m Mrs. 'Oh my God that Britney’s shameless'(You want a piece of me)
I’m Mrs. 'Extra! Extra! This just in'(You want a piece of me)
I’m Mrs. 'She’s too big now she’s too thin'(You want a piece of me)

In response to this obviously last-ditch defensive attack--and, in my opinion, the most substantial contribution she's made to pop music since her accidental-S&M debut "Baby One More Time"--I heard one radio DJ respond with "Come on, Britney: When did anyone ever call you too thin?"

Come on, Mr. DJ: When did anyone ever tell you it's a good idea to cannibalize those who make up your livelihood? (Or is Clear Channel putting you all up to this?)

When did celebrity "news" become news? When did the antics of a few people driven to distraction by the extremes of attention they experience become noteworthy? Shouldn't we rather be saying, as we might say of lab rats bombarded with constant stimulus, constant access to food, and constant flashbulbs, "Well, it's no wonder they went crazy"? Shouldn't the effects of this kind of life be obvious, not newsworthy at all?

Beyond the contents of the headlines, though, lies their tone, and this is what causes me to despair for Britney. Outside of comments made by well-meaning "family friends"--such as Dr. Phil or Barbara Walters--there has been an unceasing stream of vitriol coming from the media, aimed directly at the Spears' personal life, and often in the guise of disinterested concern.

It is not disinterested, and it is not concern. It is willful and rapacious obsession with our own superiority.

Is this why all magazines, everywhere--and radio shows and talk shows and other "entertainment" options--have become a sanctuary for bitching? I mean not just regular complaining, but the snarky kind of constant complaint that never leaves room for personal error and never gives an inch to a response, and which usually has as its topic something that everyone appears to agree on, anyway, obviating the need to register the complaint in the first place. Do we really need to prove to ourselves over and over again that, had we been her, we never would have been such screwups?

Yes, Britney Spears is publicly devolving into a sad morality tale. But maybe we should find another place to get our lessons, so that she can have what she most needs: to be left completely alone.

I'm doing my part. I've never been a fan.