The Marie Antoinette of our generation, she epitomizes the excess of the past century and has become an abstract idea of the self destruction induced when too much fame is put in the wrong hands. When we were starved of good music, Britney said, ‘Let them hear pop’ and in a paparazzi revolution, we beheaded her with our bloodlust. And then she released Blackout. With a surprising self-consciousness, she sang, Gimme More, a belated f-you to the media. Yes, she said, you can abuse me and put my ass on the cover of your magazines, but it’s my ass that’s selling the magazine. I’m still here, I am surviving, I am Britney, and you all know my name. While it’s not much of a comeback, it’s nice to see that she’s still kicking. We’re clustering around the computer watching the video clip and rooting for her, just like in the old days. As ridiculous as she is, she’s still a part of us, an icon of the last ten years, an icon of pop. She’s refused to burn out and fade away, and her persistence has made herself a Madonna. Britney got her wish. She became a legend.