Hello, all. I know, I know: I’m on a break. If it helps, I finished at least half of my writing goals for the month. However, before I dig really deep into the next script I have to write I have some bullshit to comment on.
To her credit, Mo’Nique is a really sweet person. She’s one of those people who likes to see the good in everything. Someone could fart and Mo’Nique would say that’s your divine spirit passing that gas for the blessings of God to enter your body. In most cases, it’s an admirable quality. In others, not so much.
Take for example her using the name Waka Flocka Flame to explain the importance of having visionaries around you. This inarticulate (even by the deep south’s standards) rapper took Fozzy Bear’s catch phrase and Gucci Mane’s fire reference and meshed them together to create his stage name. While it’s certainly an interesting name, did Mo’Nique really just refer to Gucci as a visionary?
I have danced plenty of times at a stop light to Gucci Mane’s music on full blast in my car, Cameka Camry, but I wouldn’t call that man a visionary. Somebody fucked with that Burrprint a little too hard, huh? Or maybe she was talking about Jim Henson although I suspect his soul isn’t singing over Waka Flocka Flame. No disrespect to his mama, who I fear would shoot me on sight if I looked at the tip of her colored hair funny.
It’s too bad no one around him had the vision to get him media training before he decided to go on national TV. He didn’t even know how to explain his own music, ya’ll. So what does he fall back on? The same thing most people do when they have no where else to turn: The Lord.
I’m not going to pretend to know God’s taste, but based on what I was taught and picked up along the way I’m not so sure God would attribute Flocka’s music to himself. I mean, all he talks about is beating people up and shit, right? Well, on second thought, maybe Old Testament God had a trap house or something. As Keith put it, “O Lets Dost It.”
Regardless, I still don’t see it. I can see God bumping some Yolanda Adams, “God In Me” screwed and chopped, the Harlem Boys Choir, or maybe some of that traditional stuff that used to put some people to sleep in mass (but my mama loves it, and I do appreciate the ceremonial aspect of it). I can even see God doing the hand wave and pointing to Saturn while listening to “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It).”
I can’t see him smiling about this, though.
And after he says this Mo’Nique the comedian fails to show because Mo’Nique the self-help guru is too busy saluting him. She took his words and said, “Baby, when you say you surrender” and proceeds to mouth off something she probably heard at the last service.
I’ll leave Mo’ alone, though. She’s sweet and she’s just being positive. You know, because saying anything else – even if you’re right – makes you Satantic to the eyes of many (who would rather not be called out on their bullshit).
I still have something for Waka Flocka, however. I don’t knock his hustle (completely), but I need people in general to aim a little higher and try to think of something to say other than some cliche that doesn’t make a lick of sense.
And while we’re at it, since God is the subject of this post can we pray to God to bless Fozzy’s play cousin with a speech coach? I’m all for not downing a southern accent, but enunciate, Negro. He speaks as if he can barely open his mouth. You know, like his tongue is too tired from bench pressing that it won’t even bother to lift itself even a little bit to help him get out the words. Or a word.
God, since you’re apparently doing it can you help fix that?