Keep It In The Closet

Spinderella, cut it up one time. Select Catholic traditionalists have a very perverse view of sex — namely that any and all forms minus the missionary for baby making purposes is perverted. You know, as if that’s a bad thing anyway. Enter, Rick Santorum, who instead of dealing with his repression, has opted to make a career out of the adage “misery loves company.” Most that have ever heard him speak already knew that he was out of his rabbit ass mind, but now that he’s the frontrunner of the moment (yes, again) he’s stepping up the crazy.

So in my latest for Ebony.com, I write about Slick Rick’s comments about Pres. Obama purportedly peddling a “phony theology.”

Click here to read it.

I wish we could get a flash mob to entrap Rick Santorum into watching a dance off to “Let’s Talk About Sex.” Just to work his last nerve. This will have to do in the meantime. Read it and run a train on the link with your friends. The way Rick hates it.

P.S. The title of this post: Yes, that’s Michael Jackson homage and Santorum shade. Get into it.

“Bold” Has Gotten Boring

Perhaps it’s just her on-air character I can’t stand. Or maybe she’s a lovely person when you meet her. Who am I kidding? The way she behaves on camera is very likely the way she is in “real life.” Suffice to say, I can’t stand Evelyn Lozada. She’s so mean and spiteful. I don’t find her to be that particularly entertaining — at least certainly not after the first season.

My favorite, Rich Juzwiak, wrote a piece on why she’s the reason to watch Basketball Wives. She certainly gives her all, but if anything, Evelyn is the reason why it’s becoming increasingly harder for me to continue watching this show. The previous season of Basketball Wives wasn’t all that great, but if the fourth season opener is any indication this season might not be something I want to indulge in week after week. Yeah, they’ll be fights on fights on fights, but these ladies seem like they’re gonna be trying far too hard on topping the outlandishness viewers saw on Love & Hip Hop. At the helm of this is the biggest shrew of the show.

Don’t get me wrong: I realize why she is the breakout star of the show. I understand that this genre of programming requires a villain, and again, she plays that role exceptionally well. Too well. Can she take a break? Why are you always pissed at somebody, Evilyn? Must you always be a bully? Don’t you ever get tired of being you? I suppose she’d respond to all of this with “hell motherfucking no, bitch” and/or “you a bum.” Or worse, she’s whine about “the haters” like most self-important folks who can’t stomach criticism. I blame y’all for encouraging her.

This includes many of my friends – and even select relatives – who all love themselves some Evelyn. I’ve heard varying reasons why — most of which center on her dressing nice and being funny. Meh.

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Toni, Toni, Toni

If you didn’t understand why I referred to Toni Braxton as the Blanche Devereaux of R&B the first time, try again after watching this clip of her latest performance out in Los Angeles. Don’t get me wrong, I love me Toni Braxton. Her first two albums are some of my all-time favorites and I appreciate many of the songs that came later. Pleasantries aside, over the years Toni’s lost her way due in part to her fixation on being perceived as a sex kitten (but to be fair, label politics played a bigger role). Hell, a sex Mufusa. I tend to see why because as good as she sounds in this clip, I found myself distracted.

She’s making her lips quiver for every other line she sings, rubbing the Indian remy that came from the head of some now bald virgin near her mouth, slapping her thighs like she’s waiting for a tip, and lifting her already barely there dress to remind us that she has a crotch. Like, is she paying homage to her hero, Jessica Rabbit?

She comes across as one of those people that tries to make everything she does seem sexy. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knows how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich seductively. We get it, Ms. Braxton. You are oh so fine and sexy squared. So now that we’ve confirmed that for you, just be. Trust me, Eddie Valiant will still get his life and hard on in the crowd with only half the effort.

Alright, let me accentuate the positive. Again, she sounds great — probably the best I’ve heard her in a very long time. I’m glad she’s back to performing somewhat regularly again, especially after her bouts with illness. I suppose that could be part of the inspiration behind her come hither inspired performance style. It’s also nice to see her sisters behind her doo wop pop popping in the background. I can tell from her enthusiasm that Yolanda Adams Braxton is having the time of her life…and counting this as cardio.

Should Toni ever go back on tour, I’d definitely consider going. But I’m gonna need her to sing “Why Should I Care?” I’ll even take it with all that damn sex shimmies if that’s what it takes. Not that they’re necessary with a voice like hers.

Let’s Get This Over With

 

I already know I’m going to be asked, so yes, I heard the new songs from the fake ass Bobby and Whitney. Eh, each song is okay on its own merit, though it’s obvious the intent behind the releases is more important to them than the songs themselves. I don’t have a lengthy self-righteous rant about what an awful message this sends to unleash. We’ll have enough of those coming in the days ahead. Bottom line: She knows that there’s a message she’s sending with this and she doesn’t care. That is her right, though, but whatever consequences come are well deserved.

What I will say in the meantime is that I increasingly see what Ike and Tina Two have in common. Both act like obnoxious ass teenagers starved for attention. I suppose you could make the case as to how this all shows the power of forgiveness, but given the circumstances you’d think the two might have tried to discuss their past issues in better detail and of more depth with the public before dropping new material. You know, just in case some take issue with the idea of the woman who got the shit beat out of her by some bratty man child releasing a sexually explicit song featuring him.

Just a thought is all.

A lot of you laptop label heads are already toting their success because of the controversy their collaborations will secure. I gather that’s ’cause still folks believe that all attention is good attention. I know that sentiment has been around for ages, but I feel like anyone who still buys into that doesn’t know much about today’s media. Or maybe media in general. Whatever, short sightedness is all the rage these days. Case in point.

Oh yeah: Pooh Bear and Christopher Robin also operate under a very perverse view of rebellion. I’m so, so bad. Do you see how bad I am? Bad dot com backlash look at me know slash nobody can tell us what to do so there. I imagine a Twitter rant from you know who will soon come, in which he’ll be bitching and complaining about the things people say in response while simultaneously claiming to be operating under the fuck the industry and everyone’s opinion mantra. Womp, womp.

I always laugh at celebrities who whine about the public needing to judge them based on their art versus their private lives then subsequently throw their private lives in our faces. After I heard each song, I started quoting Geri Halliwell’s “Look At Me.” Thing is, we already were looking at ‘em, thus making this spectacle all the more unnecessary.

In the end, as listeners we’re free to twirk to it or not. Whatever. But when it comes to Pinky and No Brains, I sure hope I don’t hear any future complaints from either about what’s headed their way (one so more than the other). They’re exploiting the very issue each vocally used to complain that the public was too invested in. Now they’re inviting everyone back into their melodrama. So, good luck to them, and more importantly, best wishes to her publicist.

P.S. I forgot she said this in her 20/20 interview:

“When I realized that my selfish decision for love could result in some young girl getting killed, I could not be easy with that part. I couldn’t be held responsible for telling them ‘Go back.’ Even if Chris never hit me again, who’s to say that their boyfriend won’t? Who’s to say that they won’t kill these girls? These are young girls. I just didn’t realize what an impact I had on these young girls’ lives until that happened.”

To quote the late, great, Nippy, “Watch what you say.”

Whitney and The Wagging Fingers

Whenever I think of Whitney Houston, I recall playing “Saving All My Love For You” over and over again as I fall deeper in love with someone I know I can’t ever have (unless you Godless scientists hurry up with human cloning). And how that typically leads me to “Just The Lonely Talking Again” when feeling a lot more somber over it. Naturally, I try to shoop, shoop my way out of my simp-heavy feelings…to no avail. Henceforth, butchered versions of “Run To You,” “I Have Nothing,” “You Give Good Love,” and “All That Man I Need” come not long after. So butchered that my throat sounds like it got in a fight with a garbage disposal. I mean, before I have a sip of water, of course.

When I’m feeling exceptionally gay and in the mood for the auntie in my head, I cue “Queen of The Night” and “My Name Is Not Susan.” Then I instantly wonder why did I ever bother trying to kid myself years ago?  I could go on — you know, “I Believe In You and Me,” “Jesus Loves Me,”  “Count On Me” and the like. Or when I wanna do a Nippy two-step, “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” “How Will I Know,” and “Heartbreak Hotel.” Then there’s “In My Business,” “Salute,” and “Whatchulookinat” — which will never not crack me up.

Point is, with her voice and that catalog she’s been with me for as long as I can remember. In every situation. People who pretend they don’t understand why strangers cling to celebrities – particularly singers – are being ignorant to the power of art. God bless them, that’s an attribute I never ever want.

That said, it’s becoming increasingly harder for me to reflect on the artists I grew up listening to. One, because it makes me think of the mortality of people in my life, and in some cases, my own. Worse, I have to face the reality that another person plagued with some demons for much of their lives died way too soon before they could truly conquer them. Such outcomes terrify me.

I suppose what vexes me the most, though, is once that happens, the blame game ensues. You have the self-righteous ready to pounce on the fallen and oversimplify what it means to be an addict. Or better yet what it’s like to be a person simply living with the sort of pain that leads them towards those kind of vices. Never mind that Whitney’s official cause of death has yet to be released, folks have their talking points ready and they’re gonna use them regardless.

Then there’s the well meaning but still misguided blame on the public. “You laughed at Whitney, so thus, you’re a part of the problem.” No, we’re not. As someone who lived with an addict, suffice to say I can understand all the pain, confusion, and anger that can come of it for those around. However, I think it’s silly to suggest that anyone who watched Being Bobby Brown or laughed at “crack is wack” is culpable.

When you’re frustrated, laughter helps. When you’re trying to cope, humor can help you deal. When you don’t know what else to do about a problem, a joke can do wonders in the meantime. That doesn’t mean you don’t wish them well nor does it suggest you don’t understand the severity of a given situation. Laughter merely adds convenience to the uncomfortable.

Besides, Whitney Houston was funny as hell. Her wit, her comedic timing, and those one liners: How could I not laugh some of the time?

And then there’s Bobby Brown, the target of an overwhelming share of the blame for what happened to Whitney Houston over time. I was more than annoyed when I saw mainstream outlets use the terms “posse” and “entourage” to describe Bobby arriving to his funeral with his family. The connotation is not lost on me, but at least Bobby released a statement explaining the matter and Al Sharpton went on to confirm that he was respectful.

It’s all just a subtle rehash of past attempts to demonize Bobby Brown and make him the source of all of Whitney Houston’s troubles. I touched on why that is problematic in my latest for theGrio. You can read that here.

As I wrote in the piece: “Whatever is ruled to be Whitney Houston’s official cause of death, it makes no sense to continue blaming Bobby Brown. We are responsible for our own actions and the consequences they yield. Instead of wagging our fingers, let her rest, let him grieve in peace, and let us just pray for those who remain in pain and who seek ways to cope.”

The same can be said about the way others are trying to scold fans. Whatever wreck people believed Whitney to be, the train stopped the day before the Grammys. As we move forward, hopefully conversations about what we can learn from her passing can move beyond, “You did this, he did that, and she did it to herself.” Until then, I’d rather just focus on what’s most important: How much her talent meant to all those who loved her.

Thank you for sharing your gift with us, Whitney. God rest your soul and God be with your daughter.

 

The Truth About Reality

Another day, another sanctimonious rant about reality television from a thespian while playing the role of a bottle of Morton Iodized Salt. Apparently, Tyler Perry’s two-dimensional depictions of Black women (or everyone, I suppose) is the fault of anyone who watches NeNe Leakes Baloo. Really? This is why God created the phrase “Negro please.”

And why I wrote more on it. So, check out my latest for Ebony.com here. Tell your mama, sister, auntie Millie Jackson, cousin — especially the one with the hook up. Yeah.

Holy Ghost Homophobes

I have a new piece up at The Grio on Roland S. Martin and other holy ghost homophobes, the Ralph Tresvant factor, why everyone needs to listen to Big Mama (but not her diet if you want to walk in the AARP stage of life), and whether or not CNN has a double standard with respect to suspicions. You can read it here.

You Sent It: Big Yo’s Lesbian Housewives Trailer

I am all types of confused after watching a trailer for the would be reality series, Big Yo’s Lesbian Housewives. In case you were curious as to what a Big Yo is, it’s a longtime lesbian club promoter based in Houston. I recall hearing about her club from a lot of my fast ass gay friends in high school. One of those very friends sent this to me — presumably as bait.

I get it, folks. Everyone wants to be a star. Y’all see NeNe Leakes has gone from Country Crocker to the country club and y’all wanna be down, too. Trailers like these, though, prove yet again why everyone can’t be like Baloo.

No offense to these studs and fishes in the clip as they seem like lovely people, but if you’re going to try and sell a reality show (Keefy prefers the title The Secret Lives of Studs) can you front with feeling? And reason. Am I really supposed to believe that this stud with a sleeve is messing around with men? What, is she topping the dude? They both looked like they were holding in their laughter. Let it out, ladies, ’cause I damn sure did.

I will applaud Big Yo for making the most effort. Clearly, she’s been studying the Tyler Perry school of overacting. She still needs a lot more people, but here’s to hoping she scores the lead in Madea Gets Her Bussy Licked. As for that “Coming Soon to VH1!” line in this video’s summary:  They’re gonna air the sex tape Santa Clause made of the Easter Bunny blowing Jesus’ back out before this. But you know, there’s always LOGO or World Star so good luck and God bless and shit.

I Need Answers

1. Did anyone from The Donda Project ever respond to your email?

2. Where is Michele Bachmann? (Don’t answer. Just relish in the fact that I even thought to ask.)

3. Isn’t Big Ang a joy?

4. Whatever happened to that Eve comeback project?


5. So Azealia Banks is like more hip-hop for hipsters, right?

6. Isn’t Oprah’s Master Class the best pep talk?

7. So are these two gonna be like Foxy Brown versus Lil’ Kim, only the version of Kim she imagines herself to be?

8. Isn’t it great to see D’Angelo back on stage again?

9. Why is Rihanna so damn pressed to show the world how bad she is?

10. When is the last time Jennifer Hudson had some Popeye’s chicken?

11. How about someone push Mark Oxner off the boat instead?

12. Why are there people in the world proposing marriage via Facebook walls?

13. Will Christina Aguilera be sure to wear panties to the next funeral?

14. High unemployment rates or not, isn’t it odd for select Detroit high schools to be teaching their students how to work at Walmart (with credit to boot)?

15. Anyone else notice how much Karen on Mob Wives looks like Mafia Miss Piggy?

16. What are the chances that this might be featured on a future episode of Keeping up with the Kristians Kardashians?

17. The next time Khia makes the news for being arrested for something like repossession evasion, is it fair to assume that someone defaulted on her pussy bill?

A spilled drink may have led to four people, including two innocent bystanders, being shot early Saturday at a Stone Mountain nightclub, police said.

18. Who do I have to shoot in the NRA to get them to lay off gun control laws?

19. Isn’t this trailer a bit extra for a show that’s mainly gonna consist a bunch of women throwing watered down happy hour drinks at each other?

20. If Marlo Hampton were a song, would it be Khia’s “Pussy Bill?”