And pointless little Britney Spears, well, she was our emblem. The pitch-perfect little slut-starlet aegis of our virgin/whore innocence/smut touch-me/don't-touch-me sexual conundrum, all about grinding hips and licked lips and physical bliss and the hot-bodied sloe-eyed come-hither promise of something never really delivered. Ain't that just like America.