This Week’s Love/Hate Relationship With Black Pop Culture
My take on this week in black pop culture!
Is this really necessary, T-Pain? I get so irritated at myself for paying this kind of mess any mind because that’s just what this autotunin’ fool wants, but to spend $410k on an almost-humorously redundant chain without it actually being funny? It may be the struggling writer in me talking but that really fries my rice! I haven’t seen anything this ridiculous in a long minute. Hate.
My imagination has always been overactive when it comes to celebrity crushes, and my deep enduring love for Ghostface Killah pretty much sets the bar for “unattainable boo-hood.” Ghost (and Rae and the rest of Wu) are back this summer and I’m ecstatic. Check out 2dopeboys blog for the tracks “Forever” and “Harbor Masters” playing each side of that ghetto shortie for life/hopeless thug coin that he rocks so well. Yum . . . love.
Spectacular from Pretty Ricky . . . you see, I have only a rudimentary grasp of what/who/why Pretty Ricky is, but I do know gay strippin’ when I see it. And I’m not just saying that, I really know gay strippin’. Just trust me on this. Now, it’s none of my business if this tenderoni wants to gyrate in videos and hand out grind-off challenges. I’m also not particularly bothered when the black community, as predicted, responds by attacking his sexuality – the ignorant and prejudiced masses are going to speak simple-mindedly 90% of the time anyway, and I can’t let that get me down. What I find irksome is Spectacular’s blatantly homophobic response of “I am NOT gay. This is strictly for the ladies!” The progressive and honorable thing to have said is “I’m straight but of course this Blind-as-a-Bat-Red Speedo and my tangy grind game are part of the gay aesthetic. Big ups to all of my gay fans!” At least have enough perspective to realize that what you’re doing is no female’s dream performance because it LOOKS GAY. Literally. Hating hate doesn’t make sense but in this case I do.
I can’t imagine the day I don’t LOVE the Obama girls and seeing them in my home away from home of Paris, France just about makes me giddy. It just feels so full circle for me . . . I miss the city so much but these young women remind me how much I love America every time I see them. How could a tween NOT want to be just like Malia and Sasha? It just blows my mind. And let me just say ‘Vive La France,’ for that matter. J’adore les filles d’Obama!
That Thin Line: Michael Jackson just can’t catch a break. If he comes out of the house with a mask on, we mock him. If he dares to walk around with his unmasked children in tow he exposes his little sugar cookies to the scrutinizing eyes of not-so-post-racial America. Any child that you love and care for is “yours” in the basic sense of the word and I’d never try to take that definition away from him. But why is Michael Jackson trying to play me out and have me believe that those two young people are in any way the fruit of his loins?
The details of race and biology tend to bore me but let’s cut to the chase — there’s no solid way to predict what a bi-racial child is going to look like. The nappiest of the nappy can produce stringy-haired kids and practically white people have popped out tar babies. I’m not questioning Prince Michael and Paris Michael’s parentage just because they look more Nordic than Negro. When it comes down to it, those kids just do not look like Jacksons. I have been looking at Joe Jackson’s progeny for 28.5 of my 30 years on this earth, and these two children are not apples from that child beatin’, wife cheatin’ tree. The only thing I can figure is that Jacko made babies that look like the offspring of what he wishes he looked like, ie. what he’s paid to make himself look like. Genes don’t lie, after all. I love you Michael but I hate that you hate yourself!
What’s your take on these stories? What do you love/hate in black pop culture lately? Let me know in the comments!