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In This Issue

• Inside Look at Madrid Train Bombing
• On Keenspace, Funnies Go Super-Mega Sweet
• Stop Aborting Our Lord and Savior!
• The Passion 2: The Resurrection
• A Trip to the Britney Spears Museum
• Mail Order Brides Reviewed
• Letters to the Feditor
• Boccaccio's Decameron Gets Zombie-fied
• Campus Tradition of Blood Wrestling Continues
• Fed Fun Book of Zombie Lore!
• Wacky Fun Skeletons
• Crane Droppings on Sharon
• Marauding Interviewer: Back to the Seventh Grade
• Meta-Marauding Interviewer: Does Kate Eat Babies?
• They Watch

Kentwood, Louisiana has two major exports: water and Britney Spears. Without Kentwood water, people in southeastern Louisiana would have to risk frightening and awesome mutations by drinking water from the Mississippi. Without Britney Spears, radio-listeners across America would have to risk frightening and awesome mutations by listening to nu-metal, pop-punk, hip-hop, or "indie rock." So when I heard there was a Britney Spears museum in Kentwood, I had to go see it.

Actually, the Britney Spears Museum is really just a branch of the Kentwood Historical and Cultural Arts Museum. The Britney section is the "cultural arts" part.

Upon arriving in Kentwood, I decide to sample some of the local dining. I choose Mama's Deli and Daiquiri. Mama is wearing what looks like a Star Wars T-shirt, but later I notice that it really says "GODS WARS Episode I: Defeating All Evil." As I'm eating, two young men start to leave. "You movin' Britney's furniture?" Mama asks. My ears perk up. Apparently, these guys are moving some of her furniture up to New York. "Isn't that nice that she lives in New York, but she still buys her furniture in Louisiana?" The other woman working there agrees.

"I haven't seen Britney since around Christmas."

"She's gonna be down in New Orleans next week. I think she's in town, 'cause I saw a limo."

"Oh yeah, you know if you see a limo it's Britney, or someone related to Britney. I sure am glad she made it."

"I am too."

Next stop, the museum. A sign on the door reads "Marriage licenses issued here." Apparently the museum offers this service for fans inspired to follow in Britney's footsteps. Inside, brightly colored Britney posters, more appropriate for a preteen bedroom than a museum, adorn the walls. A woman hobbles out of a back room and croaks, "You wanna see the museum?" After I pay my three dollars, she asks, "Do you want to see the military part or the Britney part first?" Military. Save the best for last.

Leading me into the military room, she waves at a poster board and says, "These are the Nazis." Indeed, they are. Moving along, she waves at a case of military artifacts. "These are things that people brought back from the war, in Germany." I silently doubt that these people were even from Kentwood. She waves at a machine gun. "This is a machine gun." We come to some maps on the wall with pins stuck in them. "The red pins are where they had battles, and the blue pins are military bases."

I decide to act interested. "So there was a military base in New Orleans? . . . Or nearby, somewhere around here?"

She examines the map. "I don't know," she replies.

Finally, we come to the real local history: pictures of local veterans from various wars. Clearly more knowledgable of the Spears' family lineage than the history of war, the woman points out the especially interesting pictures: "This is Britney's mama's daddy. . . . This is Britney's daddy's daddy. . . . This is Britney's daddy's sister . . ."

Moving on to the Britney exhibit, the first room is occupied by a scale model of the stage Britney performed on for her HBO special during the "Dream Within a Dream Tour". It was built by a thirty-year-old fan from Salem, Oregon. The model contains 600 Christmas lights, and much to the irritation of his wife, took him six months working four hours a day to build, during which time he permanently injured his thumb from the repetitive strain of punching holes through little steel sheets that were part of the building material. My guide turns off the lights in the room for the full effect. With all the flashing lights, it really is impressive.

At this point, some other guests join the tour. They're from New Jersey, look to be in their twenties, and are clearly not here for the irony. They "ooh" and "aah" over the stage, which wasn't there when they visited last year. "From the Dream within a Dream Tour," one guy recognizes without looking at the plaque.

The next room contains many of Britney's awards. The case is about half empty, our guide explains, because Britney took some for auctions for the Britney Spears Foundation. The Foundation funds the Britney Spears Camp for the Performing Arts and other programs for children in need, based on the philosophy "that music and entertainment has a healing quality that can truly benefit these kids." She had promised to send replicas of the awards, but after a year they still hadn't arrived.

The next room has pictures taken by fans, pictures from the Mouseketeer years, Britney's platinum records, her childhood treasures, and an American flag that was flown over southern Iraq, presented to Britney because . . . who knows? One display documents the official "Britney Spears Day" that Kentwood celebrated back in 1993.

The final room contains a nearly perfect recreation of Britney's childhood bedroom. On the desk there's a framed picture of Justin Timberlake. Strangely, the museum contains no trace of Britney's recent marriage.

As I leave, the guide points out all the Britney merchandise. I buy a postcard for two dollars, but she gives me a free bottle of Kentwood Water, so it's okay.

"Come again," she says.

"I will," I lie, guilted into masking my collegiate cynicism by her absurd sincerity and free Kentwood water. I suppose I'm incapable of the childlike innocence necessary to understand genuine Britney fandom. Where I see talentless corporate whore, they see sweet and gifted hometown hero. Their pride is at once heartening and a little sad. Here's hoping the museum does alright, for the novelty seekers and the true fans alike.