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Hey, Mike.

It’s ya girl Ciara (pronounced Cee-erra). Now I know your whole thing is advice or whatever, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that I don’t really need any advice per se.

This time in my life I’m very happy. I’m going out more.

See? That’s me out. I’m sure you know who that is. Kim Kardashian and I are very good friends. Like total BFFs or whatever.

It’s good to meet with someone who totally helps get me more press understands me and supports me in my evolution as a woman and entertainer.

And she also knows what it’s like to deal with the negativity out there. You know, the kind of negativity people like you throw out on the internet.

Quite frankly, I find it pretty pathetic. What have I done to any of you?

Why sit there and nitpick and judge me online? Why sit at your computer staring at me trying to find something – anything – to bash me with? You know what? You must really like what I do for you to sit there and analysis it.

I look at it as you all have too much time on their hands.

Unfortunately, we live in a negative world so ya’ll have been successful in derailing my Fantasy Ride. It’s not right. I worked hard on that album!

I took my fans on fantasy ride through music. I gave so many shades of myself.

I really pushed myself as a woman, as a writer, as a producer, as a performer. I have grown so much. Unlike a lot of artists I didn’t rush my project. I wanted perfection, because I wanted to give fans my all.

I am in love with my music, it’s my lover, my friend, my everything. I gave my fans a first class ticket to music. Everyone else is giving them stand-by on Southwest.

But you all won’t let that be the narrative. You’d rather still crack jokes.

You know I’m not a man.

Whether or not I’ve bench pressed 50 Cent’s penis doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I’m an artist and should have my music heard.

So how can we get people like you to stop being negative and make that happen? My Fantasy Rise shouldn’t be treated like MARTA.

Like I said I don’t need your advice. I need you to quit hating.


Now if you’ll excuse me, me, Kim, and LaLa are headed to the Ivy.

Kiss my swag,


Dear Ciara,

Have you heard of the phrase “sucking at life?”

If so, how about you stop, pose for the frame and be the visual embodiment of the term?

Since I’m behind the post that got past around more than copies of Rihanna’s last album (you mad?), I caught the not-so-subtle digs at me and those with similar opinions in that interview with the writer who took the stan approach to interviewing.

Let’s share two fun facts for the day:

1. It took me 20 minutes to write that post. If you can write, and the subject matter is easy and the target is even easier I’m not wasting that much time or brain cells highlighting the obvious.

2. When people point out something bad, don’t think they’re secretly in love with it. That’s a delusional and narcissistic way of taking criticism. Trust me: I meant what I said when I wrote it.

There are times when you have “nothing to do.” Same for the rest of the world. Keep that slick talk in the jar.

I was actually a fan of yours. I bought Goodies. I found you refreshing.

Sure you looked a little familiar and was riding the crunk trend, but you keeping your legs closed for most of your debut. That separated you from the rest of the pack.

Then someone whispered in your ear that sex sells. You were encouraged to ‘step it up’ – not musically, not performance wise, but hormonally.

Then came the muscle butt shots.

The splits.

Your glorified audition for The Player’s Club 2: EBT Don’t Keep Me in Fendi.

It’s not that you can’t be sexual. I mean, I loves me a whorish pop star. But there’s something that you and other singers like you don’t seem to get.

When Janet and Madonna spread their legs from east to west, it seemed as if they owned their sexuality. It tied into their music and image and was something that seemed organic.

You, on the other hand, seem to be following a formula.

A formula that’s now taken you from potentially being the new Janet to likely turning into the heir to Mya’s shoulda, coulda, woulda throne.

I heard that it really bothers you that Rihanna’s become a superstar, hence why you fired all of your old team.

Just between the two of us, did you want to push her off the stage? Or were you too busy frowning at the woman from E! that kept mispronouncing your name.

Here’s the thing: You were doing everything you needed to do to be a star.

You were different because you were one of the few who actually danced.

Not just dip it, pop it, twirk it, stop it.

You actually had some level of extensive choreography. Now all you do is twist a little and spread ‘em wide eagle.

Even he’s dancing more than you now.

Sex gets attention, it doesn’t sell music, especially not in a recession.

Do you really think we care about you licking Justin Timberlake’s ear? Half of us ain’t felt him since he ran away in tears from Janet Jackson. You didn’t excite anyone but Jessica Biel.

Wanna know why Keri Hilson is doing well despite dancing like the slow on in dance class?

Her songs are catchy. The end.

She’s doing songs you should be doing. Were you late on your check the last time or something? Forget that diss and call her for a session.

A hair cut isn’t going to save you.

And as your ex-hairstylist put it:

“She has no identity. Still trying to find a look.

The pics of Ciara on the post for her twitter is my work, the beautiful makeup head shot was done a year ago in Atlanta, that other crap is Kiyah, wack . Please make a correction. We spent hours trying to find this child a look and she still bites and don’t listen to a list . She’s a year behind all of it . Crazy !, she would have been rocking it all before all if she listen ,now she looks like a knock off.”

You’re late!

You don’t want my advice, but if I were you I’d:

1. Fire whoever has you dressing like Rihanna’s drag queen of an older brother.
2. Burn that wig and the person who handed it to you.
3. Call Jazze Phae and Lil’ Jon so you three can make a comeback together.
4. Stop being late. If you hear a song that’s catchy and think, “Oooh this song will sound even better three years from now when I try something like it,” delete the mp3 asap.
5. Stop acting so damn pretentious. Your are known for the matrix, not fighting world hunger.

In five years you’ve gone from multi-platinum burgeoning solo star to fading solo act who’s one or two flops away from being a judge on So You Think You Can Dance. Speaking of dancing, get you a new jig while you’re at it.

I think you have a lot of potential, but figure out who you are yourself for your next project. Let your label figure out how to market your actual persona after the fact.

Get it together soon or:
…will be the only goodies you serve to the kids.

Dueces up, your chart position is DOWN!

Your welcome,


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I know, I know. Indulge me.

I consider myself to be a people person. I have always been a floater, so I’ve never been bound to any particular group. I like all types of people. These days, though, I’ve become increasingly annoyed with certain segments of the population.

Some have tried to place the blame of said annoyance on me moving to LA. I disagree, because it excludes the fact that the biggest generator of self-important jackasses these days can be found on the Web, not Hollywood.

With that said, indulge me in my list called, “You Make Me Want To Start Handing Out Birth Control On The Street.”

1. The hipster, the blipster, the whatever you call the people who dress like 1983 but think on the level of someone born in 1810 B.C.

I am very happy that now more than ever Black men and women don’t feel bound to dress a certain type of way. I’m not Marc Jacobs, but I can appreciate individual style when I see it. It’s honestly refreshing.

Now, having a sense of style doesn’t necessarily make you Andy Warhol or Donatella Versace. Sadly, that fact is lost on far too many people who seem to be legends in their own mind. These days everyone wants a title, their own particular brand, or whatever they think will make them seem “different” and thus “important.”

More times than not, these sort of folks looking to be christened the next whoever don’t really do anything other than dress up, walk around, and write two sentences about how haute they are.
That may earn them a little bit of attention via a blog, it may even boost them to the G-List or innanet famous status, but does it really translate into anything credible insofar as money and the mainstream attention that they undoubtely crave?

Perhaps it does and maybe I’m just late boots (I’m learning the lingo, bear with me), but it typically reads to me as the sort of attention that leads on to “famous for nothing status.” That’s cute when you’re a Kardashian, Hilton, or Richie, because you have money from the jump and ties to parents with actual talent. It works for them because the weight of their last names, but if you’re not on that level and you’re just on a blog, well, you’re just on a blog.

And now more than ever are so many people trying desperately to out do each other in the race to appear “different.” They all end up looking the same, then have the nerve to try and be obnoxious about it.

I’m not going to even pretend I’m where I want to be professionally. I am not, but I work hard and I will get there. Fortunately, I’m not even there yet but I can spot a pretender a mile away.

I look at blogs, I see tweets, and I pick up on folks bragging on events that anyone in their 20s working in media with a gap not too distractingly wide can get into. If you’re sense of self-worth is based on wearing something by a person who likely cares nothing about you to attend a party full of folks who aren’t as pressed about the event as you appear to be go read a book.

Speaking of which, I would like to think that the generation out now with their sense of style and go get ’em attitude mirrors those in the Harlem Renaissance. Yeah, hell no. We’re not even in the league of those in late 80s/early 90s. Why? Because a lot of us don’t read.

Being fly is not an excuse to be stupid. Put it on a button or pay Pharrell to say if that’s what it takes to get the message across.

I’d cut for someone who could dress and thought they were more important than they actually are so long as they could formulate a coherent sentence. I really would. A lot of people are assholes, but insight is insight. So many people in my age group are ridiculously vapid. There’s no depth, no real sense of creativity. Just a desire to become a celebrity (or something close to it) because they’ve fallen into the trap of celebrity worship.

Which leads me to Type 02.

2. The person who writes about celebrities thinking they’re one, too.

This isn’t directed at any particular blogger. It really isn’t. But, I will say I think sometimes this obsession with celebrity our society produces way too many confused people. I don’t actually mind the wave of bloggers changing the media game. I think it in many ways, it was necessary. However, I do think [most] journalists (not all, even they suffer, too) are trained to realize that they are to tell the story, not try to insert themselves in it.

There is a line that shouldn’t be crossed, but far too many people jig up and down through it because they’re trying to get famous themselves.

If that’s the case, get off the blog and go learn to play the piano, or take a pole dancing class. Hell, you’re a blogger: Go find a rapper to slurp and get a lit agent. That seems to work well, too, these days. Whatever you need to do, go do it. That way you can stop wasting cyberspace talking about yourself when you know damn well people clicked on the link to read about what contact solution their favorite celebrity uses.

3. You Trapped In The Closet People

This is dedicated to the men and women who are walking vaccum and carpet cleaners late at night or in my inbox, but fake breeders during the day. I would go on, but if I did it would turn into my first book or something.

4. No Wait, The The Pretentious People Really Do Irk Me

I think this whole entry is really dedicated to them. I’m trying not to sound like a hater. There’s a difference between constructive criticism and hate. Hate would suggest jealously, but I don’t want to dress like Carlton Banks and Cruella Deville to earn a feature in a magazine that will likely be folded in three days.

I just want people to stop trying to convince me that they’re cool, that they’re fly, that they’re meant to be a celebrity and just BE.

How much more fun are people when they’re just being versus projecting all the time? Stop it. Some people may love me, other people may think I’m nuttier than a Snickers, but I am me. All the time.

5. The Folks Who Would Give Themselves Fellatio If They Could

There’s self-confidence and then there are people who I feel like have themselves on their breath. It’s OK, we know you know matter. Don’t all of God’s children important or something like that? Yeah, we got it. Now sit your happy self-congratulating ass down somewhere.

And: Bloggers who don’t update their damn blogs.

With my punk ass, right?

Wait, wait, almost forgot: The Bougie Black Brigade

I don’t know what post-Blackness is supposed to mean, but it comes across as another way for privileged middle class Blacks to separate themselves from their poor brethren. This isn’t as prevalent in my generation as it is in the previous one, but they’re still the ones getting most of the camera time.

I think every faction of the Black community deserves their voices heard, but it irks the hell out of me so many of this group turn their noses up at other Black people. Trying to live up to some white standard is passe, and as cold as it may sound, I look forward to the day that the generation still clinging on this to this us vs. them mentality passes on.

Despite are recent triumphs, Black people are suffering now more than ever. The last thing we need is some saddity colored regurgitating some bullshit from the yestercentury.

That’s it. My rant is a complete. Call me a tacky hater if you must. I am not, but hey, since I pulled out the shovel no sense of stopping other folks from digging in.

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You know, I really try to give Karrine Steffans the benefit of the doubt despite my overall feelings about her.

There are a lot of low self-esteem having whores out there slurping up your favorite bisexual rapper, but very few of them reach their goal in winning the lotto via an unplanned (for the men at least) pregnancy.

Those sort of women lack foresight, though. They don’t get in an age where the media has created such an obsession with “celebrity” that even a story about Solange Knowles asking her barber for the Florida Evans cut is worth dissecting for hours. Karrine understands this, however, and was smart enough to figure out a way to profit off of society’s two biggest obsessions: sex and celebrity.

So from her to go from video girl in videos no one remembers seeing to a New York Times best-selling author is impressive. I cring a little bit each time I think about her holding that title, but I respect her hustle.

Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, let’s get to the real: She’s a pretentious hoe with delusions of grandeur.

Let her tell it she is literary genius who seems to think she’s a genius in a land of peons. To her credit, she’s well spoken and doesn’t strike me as an idiot like some of the woman who have tried to follow in her hoe stroll. Still, there’s a certain way you speak to people and Superjaws, that ain’t it.

I’m baffled by her wife and mother of two bit. Does she think we all suffer from dementia? People call you a hoe because of the things you did in the past that you yourself have acknowledge doing. People still call you a hoe because years after the book you were dropping hints left and right about which rapper just spent a vacation in your crotch.

If she weren’t acting so “above it all,” I’d probably be less inclined to bring up her antics. But she does so I must.

She is not Zora Neale Hurston. She is not Toni Morrison. She’s not even Terry McMillan or Sister Souljah. She’s Zane meets 106 & Park. That’s all well and good, but please stop acting like you just wrote some Pulitizer-prize winning piece of literature. Before this video, that last time I’ve seen her on camera she was pulling out her husband’s pair of anal beads. Before that, she was alluding to having sucked the ‘Tussin out of Lil’ Wayne — and her son’s toys were visible in the hotel room.

I’m glad someone called her out although I don’t think it’s the place of a journalist to do so. Or at the very least, not in that manner. On the other hand, Karrine criticized black media — villifying it and again, trying to seem “above it all.” I wonder how she likes them apples now.

Am I the only one irked by this woman acting like the Princess of Monaco? I don’t believe someone’s sexual activities alone suggests how they should be treated, but when you’re entire brand is based on illicit sex with men – including married ones – shouldn’t you take a minute, smell what you just did in your room, and fall the hell back on the cockiness?

And don’t na’an one of ya’ll try to get me to read this book. I’ve seen excerpts. I’ve gotten more insight from a stale fortune cookie. Besides, for every A-list rapper her tongue has entertained, she ended up with Eddie Winslow. I’ll pass on the lessons.

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I know, I know.

You don’t even have to grab your shoe and Joe Jackson me. I know I haven’t updated this week. In my defense, I traveled to New York this week. The trip was intended to be somewhat leisurely, but it has become more of a networking-centered trip.

Trust me, I have plenty of posts ahead, and you can expect many updates tomorrow and Friday. Forgive me: I’m trying to do better in life. I just don’t want to end up doing hoe shit, y’know?

So I’m coming.

In the meantime, I am STILL trying to get someone to help me with the switch to the dotcom. I have a host, installed WordPress, and imported all of my posts. My issue is, was, and continues to be the layout.

Can someone help? Why won’t folks let me be great?!

But yes, I am coming. Hold tight. Suck your teeth at me, call me a punk ass writer in the comments section — I’ll let it slide today. I am coming, though. I have lots and lots of plans for the site.

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Visit for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Admittedly, I have slacked on political news for several months now. I’m aware of anything major going on, but I haven’t felt compelled to go deeper than the major headlines and write about something pressing issue because if I’m being honest I’ve become exhausted by recent political events.

I had reduced myself to getting a lot of my news from news sites and Jon Stewart, but even now I don’t frequent the Huffington Post or tune into The Daily Show the way I used to. I was aware via Twitter that Sonio Sotomayor’s confirmation hearings were going on this week, but I wasn’t pressed to watch any of it. The main reason is the most obvious: She was going to be confirmed no matter what. This was all a simple formality where Democrats would praise her to no end while Republicans would get their chance to bitch and complain about Sotomayor’s “wise Latina” comment.

When I did finally give in and turned on C-SPAN to catch a couple of minutes of the first hearing, I was immediately annoyed. These privileged, wealthy old white men had the nerve to try to pontificate about race and justice yet dance around (rhythmless) their own false senses of entitlement. Not to mention most of them showed themselves to be true idiots. All it did was make me mad and remind myself that if I ever do decide tobecome a Senator I damn sure better make it because if these dopes can do it, so can I.

Needless to say, I didn’t last long watching the hearings and didn’t bother to learn what was said. I did, though, stumble along this video from Rachel Maddow earlier tonight. I haven’t watched her show in ages, but I’ve always appreciated her debating style. She does so respectfully with grace. No yelling, no insults…just the facts.

Even though Pat Buchanan is a racist nut she treats him with dignity. Now, I could get mad about what Project Pat is saying in the clip, but instead it makes me smile. Listening to old white men whine about their plight lets me know that change is indeed happening. Try as he might to invigorate some angry white man movement, it’s not going to work.

Sooner rather than later they’ll be the minority in this country, and with each passing day we won’t have to look at things through their frame of mind.

He can try to dismiss Sotomayor as a affirmative action appointee all he wants. She will be Supreme Court Justice and she’ll have a greater impact on history than he ever will.

Enjoy the clip and just try to smile and nod. The Pat’s of the world see their time slipping away. He mad! Oh well. Maybe I need to return to my regular viewing habits. I need laughs like these.

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First, shout out to the penis pump and/or Arab who helped Soulja Boy grow five inches in like 36 hours.

Trust me I have no interest in the penis of an 11-year-old rapper, but since this minor is obviously begging for attention, we might as well give it to him before the next fame whore does something to one up him.

Maybe it’s me getting older, but I am starting to despise nearly every singer under the age of 21. Perhaps, this is just how it’s going to be from here on out but I find antics such as these no less irritating.

OK, so Omarion is older than 21 and I enjoy this picture (pause deez), but believe me, there are plenty of other natural shots to tide folks over. This wasn’t necessary, but they want their fun. That would be all well and good if the likes of Soulja Boy, Teyana Taylor, Bow Wow, and others wouldn’t take to the Web to whine about “haters” and the constant media scrutiny they seem to believe they’re under.

I love how the internet has made celebrities far more accessible than any other time in history, but it no doubts has its drawbacks.

One being that you realize that many of these celebrities are presented as something completely different from who they really are. This was always an understood point to people born with a clue, but even if you have that hint of cynicism in you that says don’t take everything for face value it’s still a bit odd to see people counter their public images so strongly one tweet at a time.

Case in point both Soulja Boy and Bow Wow, who make it a habit to rhyme about how great they are, how much money they have, how many dicks they slurp how many girls they get, then randomly throw out so woe is me rant about how awful their lives are. A part of me reads those messages and feels compassion for them. Then like an hour later each are back to tweeting their regularly scheduled bullshit.

However, I can understand why some like Teyana Taylor would feel compelled to respond to criticism about her. I didn’t know what the hell she did either, so it was nice for her to clarify. Yet it points to another problem I have with celebrities (or something) being so accessible: They’re far too sensitive. Even before the age of social media many celebrities couldn’t bear with anyone telling them anything that didn’t remind them of having their left butt cheek massaged with someone’s lips.

Now that anyone with a keyboard can get their e-thug on and say things to them they might not say in their face, it’s hard for them to deal.

Wait, hold on. On second thought, I forgot what era we live in. They’re plenty of jackasses who would purposely say something out of pocket to a celebrity if it increased the chances of them boosting their own profile. Still, you have to learn when to take in constructive criticism and when to ignore everything else.

It’s a lesson obviously not learned from many of these artists with false senses of entitlement. In life there’s no person that’s constantly praised over and over again. The game doesn’t change for the life of a celebrity…or those who pose as something closely similar to one.

You post up pictures of yourself with a hard on yet you say it’s the media up your ass. You clown people for not knowing your resume, but outside of your Twitter account and the blogs we never see you actually work. It’s not your fault people don’t pay attention to behind the scenes where the real work gets done, but it’s not that hard to grasp why folks might not know your purpose yet, no?

Oh and then you want us to feel sorry for you, but you usually harp on materialism and other nonsense to the point where most folks think you’re so vapid they don’t bother trying to muster up an ounce of “awws” for you because it’s hard to take you seriously.

A lot of this is just part of growing up, which is cool, but I’m tired of people who obviously don’t read enough toss out the word “hater” every other second because people get at them for the ridiculousness they themselves put out into the world.

There’s a good chance some of you all reading this are looking at me like the internet’s answer to Mr. Wilson, but I can’t help it. We need to throw some of these brats in time out already.

If you can’t it, don’t tweet it.

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Yesterday, while talking to Mama Sinick on the phone, she made a request: “Michael (pronounced Mi-cawl…shout out to readers from The Boot), if you see Joe Jackson, can you punch him in the noise? Oh and if you see LaToya – well her nose would fall off if you touched it – trip her or something?”

I am more than ready to get on Papa Joe pimpin’ out his son’s legacy in a Satan-styled Zoot Suit, but I was trying to be polite towards LaToya. Ya’ll know Toy-Toy isn’t the brightest bulb in the room and the poor things mean well.

Then I read an interview she did with a U.K. tabloid telling all of her brothers business. Granted, anyone with eyes could tell those Jackson kids were purchased, but would Michael want his sister sharing that with the world? For money, no less?

Even more sickening is LaToya digging up a 7-year-old song and releasing it to iTunes as a tribute to her brother.

I wish someone had told LaToya to keep her nose and go be somebody’s light skinned Naomi Campbell because this girl is by far the least talented Jackson in the bunch.

She cannot sing. She cannot dance. I can’t even look at her walking without laughing. Yet she has the gall to not only keep pushing her subpart material, she does so on the back of her brother’s death?

How tactless can you be, LaLeecher? Granted, this song is by far one of her best vocal performances ever, however, anything from her that doesn’t make me instantly burst into laugher is considered somewhat of a win.

Mama Sinick added: “Oh and could you tell Jermaine to not try to hit those high notes anymore. It’s over.”

Hopefully I’ll have the opportunity to do so, but right now, I’m too busy fighting the urge to curse out Michael’s plastic lookalike and his no good Pops.

You have to love your family, but can most of us agree that some of our relatives just aren’t shit?

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Are you starting to suffer from the effects of Michael Jackson fatigue? If so, grab you a pill because this is another MJ-related post.

Look, I was already a huge Michael Jackson stan before he died. My stanism has only heightened following his untimely death. What really makes me sad is after listening to his music (which I played regularly before he died) and watching his old performances it makes me realize there will truly never be another performer like him. It’s not something just to say to be nice; it’s the truth.

I’ve been reading list after list from various sites breaking down who could be “The Next Michael.” There is no next Michael. Only a bunch of people who are alright but make you yearn for the real thing.

I’ve read the names floating around, but with respect to each of their talent, none match up and shouldn’t be compared to Michael.

1. Beyonce

I read someone say Beyonce is the only artist delivering videos on par with those from the Michael Jackson catalog. As much as I love the “Freak’um Dress” and “Single Ladies” videos, I’m gonna vote no.

That’s not a diss to Beyonce, but I think far too many people are so stuck on branding an artist “the next…” that they and their better senses get beside themselves.

2. Janet Jackson

I have never liked comparing Michael and Janet. I love each for different reasons, and their performance styles have some similarities but each are very much their own artist. Besides, that’s far too much pressure for Damita Jo to live up to. She’s still trying to live up to the standard she set herself. Let’s not make it even more difficult for her by trying to get her to fill the void of her brother.

The Jacksons are a talented bunch, but let each do their own thing. No good can really come of any of them attempting to do Mike.

Need I say more?

3. Britney Spears

I like her and wish her well, but to quote B. Scott, “Bitch. Boom. Bye.” That poor girl can’t even keep up with her Janet Jackson impersonation anymore. The only thing she has that mirrors Michael Jackson’s life is the paparazzi swinging from her bra strap. That I hope she handles better than Michael. But as far as keeping up with the Jacksons, yeah, no. Fail whale.

4. Justin Timberlake

I knew this comparison was coming. It’s been around since Rolling Stone tried to christen him the new King of Pop. Folks aren’t tired of arguing this point in vain yet?

I don’t care if he bought Michael’s old clothes from a garage sale at Neverland, sang songs rejected by Michael on his debut album, and tries his hardest to sing with that certain hee-hee-hee flair as Michael did he will NEVER be Michael Jackson. He’s talented but he’s the sequel to Elvis, not Michael 2.0.

5. Usher

I think Usher is the closet thing we have to Michael as far as an artist who can sing and pull off extensive choreography, but vocally he isn’t as strong as Michael. As an innovator, he falls short, too. To his credit he has seen his own lookalikes, but it’s nothing on par with Michael Jackson. Let Usher be Usher and stop the comparisons.

6. Chris Brown

I appreciate Chris Brown making it acceptable for tall people to dance again, but Michael Jackson at 9 vocally ethers him at age 20.

This is just a rehearsel video and listen to his voice. Case dismissed.

7. Omarion

Second verse, same as the first.

I think Omarion is very underrated when it comes to his dancing. I actually find him to be more fluid than Chris Brown and Usher. But, he makes Chris Brown sound like Donny Hathaway. His second album was good, but the nasally tone in his voice makes it difficult for him to ever have the same effects on people as Michael.

I think people forget that beyond his dancing, Michael was an exceptional vocalist. His ballads alone can move a crowd. I would buy an album full of Michael Jackson ballads. Can you say the same from #’s 6 & 7?

8. Rihanna

Sampling an MJ classic doesn’t make you the heir apparent. They are both fashionable and known for their hair styles. That’s about it. Whoever thought to compare the two needs to stop eating those random tree berries.

9. Ciara

If you really pay attention to Ciara – at least Ciara when she first hit the scene – her dancing seems a lot more influenced by Michael than Janet. But, now that she’s failed using the Madonna hoe route (I like Madonna, but c’mon nah) for success, she’s teetering on new school Mya status, not female Michael.

10. Anyone Else You Can Think Of

…don’t bother. We will eventually find someone new who will change the game, but as for now, I don’t see any of the current players replacing their hero.

Not to mention despite only having a high school education Michael was educated, well read, and quite articulate. Have you listened to interviews with some of the aforementioned artists? Yikes.

And while I have your attention, check out this performance of Michael:

Ya’ll are so lucky I couldn’t get near his casket. I might have gotten arrested for trying to pull him out.

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Do you ever just look at someone and think, “I want them to win?” That’s how I feel about LeToya. It’s not even because we’re from the same hood (Hiram Clarke, stand up)…well not completely.

With a personality like hers it ought to be hard for anyone to dislike her. She’s funny, she’s personable, and she’s genuinely positive. Even with her legal agreements with Papa Knowles and Destiny’s Child I am sure there are plenty of ways she could have still thrown them under the bus without being backhanded with a lawsuit. Yet instead channeling her inner bottle of Lawry’s she spoke kindly of them, her experiences with the group and continues to keep it moving.

To her credit, Beyonce and ‘nem talked much noise about LeToya and LaTavia — particularly in Destiny’s Child first VIBE cover story. Toya never responded to their comments, which in hindsight is very classy of her. Some people might have had someone they knew still on the DC staff put ex-lax in Beyonce and Kelly’s red beans and rice.

As far as a solo artist goes, I think LeToya has blossomed into a capable singer and performer.
I remember listening to the Anjel demo and she is now leaps and bounds ahead of where she was vocally at the time. I appreciate that Toya makes it clear that she’s no dancer, but has at least stepped it up enough to where not many would feel compelled to give her a Ryu-style kick for two-stepping and body rolling off beat. I wouldn’t be mad if someone launched a fireball into this dull crowd, though. They knew better.

I can recall how irritated I was hearing Toya constantly say she didn’t think she could be a solo star while promoting her first solo album. I wanted her to be more confident in herself, but judging from these two clips it seems she’s already there if not tip toeing around it.

I’m a bit cautious about LeToya Luckett’s sophomore project. I’m hoping she can somehow rebound with a big second single, create a buzz for her album and consequently move enough units to cement herself a spot in R&B. I would’ve launched her comeback with “Regret,” but “Not Anymore” grew on me and I’ve since become a fan of “She Ain’t Got Shit On Me.” I think each of these songs have potential if pushed properly. Sometimes I want to call her label up and ask the receptionist, “Why won’t ya’ll let my Clarke chick be great?!”

They’ve already blown it with Cherish, messed up J.Holiday’s momentum, so now I’m worried the same may happen to Toya’s Lady Love. Her flopping would make me kind of sad, ya’ll. The kind of sad you get when you want some Chick-Fil-A on Sunday but realize they’re only serving Jesus that day.

Why didn’t they drop “Regret” first?

I’m going to hold out hope that things will work out. What I admire most about LeToya is that she is a hustler. She’s done very well for herself despite being put out of the group at the height of their popularity. She’s opened up a business, had a solo successful debut album, and she’s starting to no longer be simply referred to as “that girl from Destiny’s Child.”

I really want her to continue to do better. Show those girls from Brownstone, Jade, and the members of Xscape who haven’t carried the seeds of rappers you can have a career after your girl group days die.

P.S. I hope I don’t sound more up her cooch than the camera man in the first video. I just like her is all.

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Blue is for press, gold is for entrance to memorial.

This week I’ve had to really fight the urge to ask my mama to mail me my old Black Power fist Afro pick so I could stab all of these people talking reckless about Michael Jackson literally 45 seconds after he was pronounced dead.

Try as they might to pretend that race isn’t a factor, it is for some. I say that because as I’ve started previously people like Elvis Presley and Woody Allen aren’t branded as pedophiles yet someone who was acquitted of such allegations is.

For as long as I can remember Elvis has been praised to high end yet if memory serves me correctly, he died on the toilet, no? They let his man go with dignity, so why not afford that same right to Michael Jackson? Or at the very least give the man some time to be honored for his contributions to the world before you dissect him even more than you did when he was alive.

Folks actually stood in line to take pics with Michael Wackston.

I was fortunate enough to cover the Michael Jackson memorial and take part in the service. At the time I was so busy working I wasn’t able to really deal with my own emotions surrounding his death. However, once I left the venue a number of people approached me about the service after seeing me with the program in hand. The minute they saw me with that program they started smiling at me.To have people who barely spoke a lick of English struggle to ask me questions about the service really moved me. What was it like? How did it feel being there? And on and on their inquisitive minds went.

That is powerful because I have a sneaking suspicion any other day of the week none of those people would’ve notice me. Michael Jackson brought people together through his art. As an artist myself that reminds me of the power creative people have. A poor black boy from Gary, Indiana managed to become the world’s greatest entertainer that cause fans the world to burst into tears the second they were in his presence. Black or white, rich or poor that should move each of us in some way. We are different but can be connected through a sing-a-long and a jig.

He was eccentric with questionable judgment at times, but look at the effects he had on people. Some media outlets have touched on us, but not enough. It’s more so been along the lines of, “He was a drug addict, he touched little boys, he spent too much money, he did this, he did that, he was wacko Jacko.” Blah blah blah.

Then you have jackasses like Bill O’Reilly argue that he shouldn’t be a icon to people of color. Who the hell is Bill O’Reilly to tell me who I should or shouldn’t admire? As if he really gives a damn about anyone besides Bill O’Reilly. I know his shtick is to be incendiary for ratings, but his rant about Michael is no less irritating. Jerry Falwell was a bigot but O’Reilly and others called for his criticizers to lay off following his death. Same for Reagan lovers when he croaked.

To be fair, when I look at Michael Jackson’s children a part of me does get angry. I don’t understand his obsession with the pale, the straight, and the blue and blond, but Michael Jackson is far more complicated a character than the media suggests. Though he altered his image, he was the first celebrity to use his fame to really push for people to give notice to the plight of Africans. He leveraged his celebrity to do so much charity work especially for minorities.

Michael Jackson had far more women of color as his leads in his videos than many of the rappers who claim to be a part of the driving cultural force of young Black America. Not to mention his sound, image, choreography and performance style were all derived from black art forms. He may have ended up as pale as they come, but the image and sound that made him famous were all quintessentially black. He did so much for us and should be applauded for his efforts despite his own shortcomings.

Then you have videos like these:

He seems far more aware than we ever gave him credit for. Yet, he morphed into this person who seemed as if he wanted to distance himself from blackness at least aesthetically. I don’t understand it, but I think it speaks to the way he was raised and the generation he comes from. To that end, it’s not for people who know nothing about black culture or the roots of where our self-hatred comes from to step in and take on the role of Pope of Black Folk. We are still trying to sent hints to Al and Jesse that we don’t need publicists either.

I could go on, namely about how to this day we still have stars who have completely altered their appearance to look closer to someone with less melanin (Lil Kim) or those who play with certain looks in an effort to appeal to as many as possible (Beyonce), but you get where I’m going.

Michael Jackson was complicated. It’s hard for us to understand what made him the way he was because we’re not in his shoes. As a result, we should be more careful in how we present him to the world. Or if we’re going to talk about these issues, do so intelligently and with some level of respect. Try to have some empathy for a man who went through hell before third grade.

It irks me to hear people who don’t get it and don’t want to try to speak on our behalf.

Give Michael Jackson credit for breaking down barriers and changing the game. Then shut your happy ass up for a minute and let fans pay tribute.

I wish more of these press people were like George Carlin:

At least someone recognizes game. May they both rest in peace.

P.S. You can’t tell me Michael Jackson wasn’t black doing this in the car:

I bet he did the stanky legg at least once before he moonwalked on out of Earth.

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