"Me Against the Music": To Catch a Predator... Named Madonna

Might I scintillate you with some tidbits about a little lump of magic called "Me Against the Music"? These are the zaniest funfacts you will ever consume, even if you read a Snapple cap this morning. So brace yourself. Because these funfacts might not mesh so well with your iced tea.

Funfact #1: This fucking video is a fresh-whittled shitbomb from Satan's woodshop, and I want to die.

Funfact #2: I mean, if we all signed a petition, I think we could receive compensation for having viewed it. Actually, I'm just going to call it -- we're veterans now. We deserve compensation, and then a parade. And then death, like I mentioned earlier.

Funfact #3: Madonna, is it weird when your fans want to punt you? You shouldn't alienate consumers by making them homicidal. Can I get a here-here from Jodie Foster? (Leave it in the comments section, girl.)

FuNnEsT FaCt!!: Remember when Madonna turned down collaborating with Michael Jackson on "In the Closet" because the song wasn't provocative enough? Clearly she held out for a real vocal artist like Britney "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Husky Old Basset Hound" Spears. And boy is this a provocative number. Incomprehensible speed-rapping! Contrived horniness! Cryptkeeper harmonies from Twitney and our Jurassic MILF! And let's not forget declarations of "Hey Britney! Sexy lay-day! I wanna see you baaaaare your soul," from Whoreceratops herself.

Now that we understand the video's historical impact, let's retrace our burning steps to Gomorrah and deduce why our insides seem to be melting and why God hates us. In 2003, Madonna released American Life, a unanimously panned album that emblemized the self-seriousness and aloofness of her post-Evita career. But even during times of suck, Madonna remains scrappy -- at the VMAs that August, she collaborated with Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera on a medley of "Like a Virgin" and (Save yourself! Run!) "Hollywood." The performance geysered media insanity, with 100% thanks to the tonguey, saliva-slick "exchanges of energy" enjoyed onstage by Madonna and her dirrty proteges. Hot off that frenzy, Britney featured Madonna in the first single off her album In the Zone, and that, friends, is why "Me Against the Music" happened to you and your loved ones.

The video takes place in a venue I can only call "a club," judging by the darting, wall-hugging denizens who populate the joint. But apparently this "club" also sports specialty rooms festooned with leaves, wire bed frames, and rickety fence mazes. I assume this is Britney's attempt to recreate Brian Wilson's house in 1975. Much appreciated, Spears; it was tasteful to leave out the sandbox.

After Britney chills us with the goblin-tinged opening howl of "ALL. THE. PEOPLE. IN. THE. CLUB! GRAB. A PARTNER. TAKE. IT. DOWN," we're treated to what can only be described as a Britney/Madonna poetry slam. Prepare thy snapping beatnik fingers:

Britney: "It's me against the music."

Madonna: "Uh-huh."

Britney: "It's just me..."

Madonna: "And me."

Britney: "Yeah."

Madonna: "Come awn. HO! HUH. Hey, Britney..."

Britney: "Are ya ready?"

Madonna: "Uh-huh. Are you?"

Britney: "Oh!"

Sweet Jesus, no one is ready.



While Britney engages in standard-order "malaria jitters" chorography with Central Casting's "urban-looking dancer" regiment, Madonna stakes out Frau Federline and wields a cane.



Great Aunt Madge wore her cream-colored pantsuit too, which means Britney's not the only one getting fingered at the spring formal. Lads in letterman jackets, please steer clear of the gyrating chaperone.



But you see, there's no time for fraternizing in Britney's war against the music. She and Madonna telekinetically channel each other, which apparently forces the ladies to throw themselves at a wall, hump it a little, and generally hijack the concept of Aerosmith and Run DMC's "Walk This Way." Bowing to that video, Britney says "hey-diddle-diddle, put your kitty in the middle," and Madonna tosses up her pussy for others to play with.



At this point the video is not even fun to diagnose, because just look at that shit. Madonna is crabwalking for our libidinous pleasure. I don't know who misplaced the memo, but this just in: Sebastian from The Little Mermaid rarely garners erections -- delightful as his marine life anthems may be. Luckily, Madonna rolls over and shows us her flexible legs, which looks cute enough but is usually more impressive on Animal Planet.

Then proceeds the "fence maze" section of the video where Britney dodges left and careens right, trying to signal an "Amber Alert" on the Wal-Mart intercom, but it's too late: The pantsuit pedophile wins again and chases her down. No station wagon or offering of candy even necessary this time. Also, the scenery here looks EXACTLY like the chase sequence in that horrid Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake, which coincidentally came out the week this video was filmed. I sense some plagiarism on our hands, Madonna. If you didn't swathe your face in million-dollar lotions and insist on Botoxing your cheeks into Nerf-like fullness, I would call you Leatherface right now.





We're fast-forwarding now through Madonna's inexplicable "Don't I look hot in these LEAVES" mating dance and her Nastia Liukin-esque mounting of a skeletal bed frame. I know it's Halloween time, but I'm in no mood for frights. Let's just approach the heart of the video so we can dispose of it properly, maybe with the help of Karen Silkwood.

Madonna wins one 15-second solo at the end of the video. It goes like this:

"HEYY BRIT-NEYYY! You say you wanna looooose control? Come-ova-here-I-got-sumthin'-ta-show-ya! Sexy lady! I'd rather see you baaaaare your soul! If you think you're so hot, better show me whatcha got!"

Correct, it's like your grandmother cheering you on at your AYSO soccer game, while your teammates make fun of you and call your grandma "Chlamydia Monster." Of course Madonna's also rubbing up on perfectly harmless Mad Men extras and jostling her labia majora with a cane. Can't say I ever ogled Grandma attempting such a feat on the sidelines at the Lemont Park District.

Ugh, what else can I say? This video makes Madonna look like a bona fide creep-ass. The chase sequences would've been better served if Madonna just howled, "Britney, BRING ME THE YOUTH POTION!" Then we wouldn't have to gossip about how she claws after the ex-Mrs. Jason Alexander in octagenarian attire.

By the way, the end of the video emulates their VMA brouhaha. Britney traps Madonna and lines up a wet kiss, when -- oh no! -- Madonna disappears. Such a shame. Britney really wanted to be fitted for a Cabala bracelet too. Strangely enough, this might be the worst single ever for both Madonna and Britney. I hope "Love Don't Live Here Anymore" and "Overprotected" sleep a little easier tonight.

Especially because I won't. When the scarring of this catastrophic video wears off, maybe we'll return to form with some genuinely great Madonna work and (get this) cheerful commentary. In the meantime I propose we sterilize ourselves and pluck any lingering leaves out of our asses.

EDITED TO ADD: I un-journalistically forgot to cite this vid's most vile intention. The alliance between Madonna and Britney here suggests that Madonna considers BriLLIANtney the rightful heir to her legacy. Come now, Madonna, you've eaten the bad berries again. While Britney has produced a couple of winning singles (among them "Toxic," "Baby One More Time," and -- Christ, I'll say it -- "Lucky"), her presence doesn't compare to Madonna, who uses her dance background and subsequent showman tactics to inform her witty, outrageous, and often totally original image overhauls and music. Who else can boast such a mastery of pop imagery? I can think of only one lady whose panache and implied feminist politics compare. And her scariness is, watch this, intentional.

OK, you've got me, maybe this saucer-eyed telegenius measures up too.