365 DotU, Day 58: The Bottom of the Barrel Sure Looks Nice This Time of Year

I haven’t even reached 100 songs yet, and I’m already sliding into ultra cheese this week. *sigh*

Today, I mine the artistic oevre of that genius of pop songstressing, my favorite example of how the music industry destroys humanity and violates the Categorical Imperative simply by virtue of existing, that stunning model of the disastrous consequences of entfremdung to labor, everyone’s favorite…Miss Britney Spears.

Yeah, you read that right. Britney muthafuckin’ Spears.

And I’m not even doing new stuff. I’m kickin’ it Britney old school uniform.

Yeah. You know you love it, in your guilty, guilty heart of hearts. You know, the part of you that still listens to Taylor Dayne and cries like a lonely child.

It’s an eminently coverworthy song, oddly enough. It can be made interesting, even without the slutty schoolgirl costume crap. One of my favorite takes on it was Marty Casey’s, from my favorite doomed music competition reality show, Rock Star INXS. Others have done it, too — this death metal version is rather charming, in its way, and the Travis version is fairly popular.

I, of course, went the costume route.

You totally just thought I meant that I was going to wear the schoolgirl thing, didn’t you?

Yeah. No. Not gonna happen. EVER. I did, however, feel the need for a disguise, so the fedora and shades came out. Couldn’t find a moustache. Very sad.

This is one of the sillier things I’ve ever done.

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About L. M. Bernhardt

For a good long while (15 years or so), I taught philosophy at a little private university in northwest IA, and occasionally branched out into playing music, dabbling in photography, experimenting with food, and writing nonsense on my blog. The philosophy teaching part ended in 2017 (program elimination via prioritization), but never fear! I've just finished my MLIS at San Jose State University, and I'm currently on the market looking for new adventures in either philosophy or LIS. Otherwise, I labor to support my dogs in the lavish manner to which they've become accustomed.
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