Draya’s “F.A.G.” Is The Fool

Even though a t-shirt line with the word “ass” in the title launched by a reality star wouldn’t be the first thing I think of when considering what constitutes as “classy,” I’m not knocking Draya Michele’s for wanting to generate new streams of revenue. If I could make a quick buck off the cheap fame a slot on a basic cable show provided, I’d be cashing out, too. So yeah, make your money, Draya. Not mad at all about that.

In fact, I quite enjoy Draya. She gives me Ebony from The Player’s Club, only a version that wasn’t caught up and ruined thanks to Ronnie. Plus, she’s funny and if she weren’t on the show, I probably would only watch clips of Malaysia cursing out her co-stars before flipping right back to LaSusanetta Homemaker on VH1.com.

Not to mention, I feel like if I took a stroll on the rainbow, Draya would be sitting at the other end, sipping lemonade while one of her special female friends gave her a passionate inner thigh massage. Draya’s made no secret that she’s into women, but did y’all hear the way she said, ”The boys like us, the girls love us?” Somebody strikes me as a bigger fan of the Karrueche than the cock.

In any event, I like Draya lots and salute her for seeking to capitalize off her popularity from Basketball Wives: LA. Still, after watching the promotional videos for Draya’s t-shirt line via Miss Jia, I’m a bit put off by the acrnoym she uses to plug the project.

There are some gays perfectly line with the word “FAG,” but you’ll never find me a part of that troop. That word hasn’t been remixed the way “nigga” or even “bitch” has. Regardless as to whether or not you agree that either term can ever truly be co-opted by the groups they’re intended to dehumanize and offend, I hope  most can at least reach an accord that there’s not been that kind of attempt with “faggot.”

It’s usage continues to be largely rooted in some negative connotation. With that in mind, I’m not amused by “F.A.G.” being so pronounced in the marketing of Draya’s t-shirt line. I don’t care if she’s an amateur gynecologist, longtime licker, and cookie monster extraordinaire (at least some of the time) in her private life. She’s a woman taking a slur aimed at gay men and selling it as a cute t-shirt to a bunch of straight women.

It’s annoying, no matter what any gay pet of hers nearby may have told her otherwise.

Admittedly, I’m a bit sensitive to this because I’m increasingly noticing how gay Black men have been so influential in pop culture as of late – as in so much of the colloquialism going mainstream – but you wouldn’t know it given most of the people enjoying success off of it don’t have our faces or experiences. Now you have Draya taking an ugly gay male bashing term and pimping it for profit.

Obviously, it’s too late for Draya to stop the presses now. She has shirts to move.  It’s disappointing all the time, though.

The girl may be fine, but she’s playing gay men for a fool.

P.S. Brooke really needs to get over it.

“Biracial Girl”

I try not to make fun of the mentally ill, but when they manage to sneak out of their treatment center, find a film crew, and submit their music video to BET, how can I not?

Wait, I owe the mental health community an apology. He’s not sick, just a bored step-daddy with money and nerve to burn. Who let this fool out of solitary confinement at the Self-Hate Center For Confused Blacks to shoot this video? My friend sent this to me, and while I love her dearly, I’ll probably never forgive her for bringing it to my attention. This song is several variations of terrible, yet I woke up singing this days after I first watched it.

I don’t know if this video already made its way around the blogs, but I still want to state the following:

1. I hate this Negro.

2. I hate this Negro’s song.

3. I hate this Negro’s sweater.

4. I hate this Negro for giving me a preview of what Omarion is gonna look like after he hits 45 and the buffet versus the gym.

5. I hate that I know damn well none of the girls in this video are biracial.

6. I hate that I don’t think the women in this video were cast so much as street harassed until they give him a hug to make him go away (after calling the police, of course).

7. I hate that he even made a song for biracial girls. Halle Berry deserves better (according to me, not Gabriel Aubry).

8. I hate that this song makes Brian McKnight’s anal-probing themed lullaby sound genius by comparison.

9. I hate that this song will be stuck in my head for at least seven minutes after I hit “publish” on this post.

10. I hate that some of y’all are going to send me hate mail and tweets after you see this for yourselves.

I’m done.

Christ, Don’t Kill My Vibe

Nobody knows the troubles DJ DMD has seen, so while I can appreciate his excitement about overcoming his obstacles with the help of his new BFF, the King of Kings, I really wish he had found a new beat to testify to. If you know someone from Houston with a permanent tan, chances are they’ve done the Southside to “25 Lighters” more than once around you. It is a classic record, so much so that plenty of people outside of Houston know it and adore thee with the rest of the natives. Now, since that’s DJ DMD’s biggest hit, I can understand why he wanted to use the original to spread his new message.

Hell nawl all the same, though.

Like my homie who sent it, as soon as I heard the beat, I got up to drop down. Unfortunately, my Southside didn’t make it past the west because I heard the word “Bibles” and several layers of confusion smacked me shortly thereafter.

I just can’t get into Christian rap, y’all. I wasn’t here for the sanctified versions of “No Hands” and “Motivation” and I’m definitely not hearing it for “25 Bibles On My Dresser.” Why can’t us heathens have secular music to ourselves? You don’t see me taking “Amazing Grace” and spinning it into “Amazing cakes, how phat thine ass.”

Why do you even have that many Bibles on the dresser anyway? Isn’t one enough? Or are you like one of those people who wear the black and white suits and hand out tiny versions of the King James remix of the New Testament across the street from a junior high school?

Let me stop. I already feel there’s a 30% chance a lightning bolt will be striking me overnight. Let me not tempt fate further by boosting that stat.

Fear of the wrath of God aside, the fact remins that there’s always been something conspicuously corny about holy hip-hop to me. I didn’t like it in Sister Act 2 and I don’t enjoy it now. It’s a matter of taste, but I prefer gospel music sounding like slavery or screwed and chopped (specifically Mary Mary’s “Blame It On The Jesus (It’s The God In Me”).

Can I get a amen?

Wait, I hear thunder now. Just hit a Facebook like if you feel me. That said, despite my feelings about this religious spin to a rap classic, I’m leaving this here. Maybe some of you will enjoy it. Perhaps the spirit of God will touch your soul, something, something, praise the Lord and heaven, I need a hug.

Whatever, you know what I mean.

Meanwhile, I’m about to blast the original. Blessings to all.

P.S. Please don’t touch Lil’ Keke’s “Pimpin’ The Pen.” Like ever.

Maia Campbell And Mama Odie

It should be surprising to no one that the person behind a site called The Cynical Ones isn’t going out of their way to wobble on over to the hear the wisdom of someone who reminds me of that mean, older lady on the block who takes discipline way too seriously and acts like a sprinkle of Tony Chachere’s can treat knife wounds.

That’s not to say that Iyanla and her Oda Mae Brown meets Mama Odie hustle can’t serve any purpose. I guess it’s effective in the case of someone like Evelyn Lozada, who essentially needed some sassier woman to offer her the verbal equivalent of cutting a switch from a tree and taking her to task. So yeah it can work if you’re into that sort of thing.

However, that style of self-help shouldn’t be used in the case of someone with legitimate mental health issues. As soon as I heard about Maia Campbell signing up for an episode of Iyanla, Fix My Life, I asked on Twitter, “Isn’t Maia Campbell bipolar? As it relates to fixing her life shouldn’t she lean more Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman less Mama Odie?” I was half-joking then, but after watching clips from Maia’s appearance now I’m just bothered.

Here Iyanla is telling Maia to “own her stuff,” but when you’re bipolar you might not necessarily be able to own “your stuff” without proper diagnosis and subsequent treatment. As in, Iyanla, Maia isn’t just some drugged up celebrity who can’t own up to her transgressions; this is a person who may not conceivably be able to understand her actions to the degree in which you feel she ought to. Therefore, she needn’t be chided on camera. Maia may have signed up for this own her own accord, but that’s because she used to be fame and continues to covet it. That’s not Iyanla or her producers’ fault and they’re not necessarily wrong for booking her, but this feels exploitative all the same. Iyanla just doesn’t seem qualified to handle that severe a mental health issue.

And for the record, it makes me cringe to hear Iyanla assail someone for not owning up to their mistakes.

A few months ago I asked on the site, “Why would I want Iyanla Vanzant to fix my life when Oprah had to fix hers twice?” To put it more pointedly, I watched Iyanla’s on air reunion with Oprah and I was mystified by how she refused to acknowledge her actions in her downfall. She babbled a bunch of pseudo psychological nonsense as Oprah repeatedly dragged her by the unshaped up hairs on her head back to reality. That’s what I meant behind that quip: Who is she to be getting people together when she’s on OWN largely due to being a means to an end i.e. Oprah building her network off the backs of Black women?

Earlier today I saw someone tweet the following quote from Iyanla: “I went to law school not to study law, but to train my mind.”

Ma’am, what? That sounds like some bullshit you say in a dark room full of 20-somethings into snapping their fingers at the slightest instance of something seemingly profound (overeager beavers, let it happen naturally). That’s that shit I don’t like and why I’d rather rock with someone with depth and a medical degree. Hell, I’d rather take a teaspoon of ‘Tussin for my mental health treatment than turn to her.

I wish the best for Maia, but I sure hope someone close to her finds her a real therapist because based on the clips I’ve seen, Mama Odie ought to be selling Maia seem incense or a brown sugar scented candle and nothing else.

Have You Dropped It For Obama?

In the past political rap harped on it taking a nation of millions to hold us back, nowadays it seems more focused on making that ass clap. Houston rapper Beat King, behind empowering gems like “You Ain’t ‘Bout Dat Life Hoe,” has released a new track in celebration of President Obama’s reelection. Probably won’t get any spins at the Inaugural Ball, but for those planning to be outside in the cold to see the president sworn in, maybe this can help keep you warm?

“Pop a Molly for Obama.”

“Drop that ass for Obama, good health care for my mama.”

“She got that good weave like Michelle. Remy.”

“Team Obama we turnt up, if you voted make that ass drop.”

“Mitt Romney wife look like she was always high on that bath salt.”

“Strippers love Obama. Make sure he pays for that.”

“I got money like Republicans, but I make it rain like Democrats.”

Oddly enough, there’s also a quip about getting rid of ratchet hoes. No further comment on that. Well, y’all wanted the president to get more people involved in politics. Do you now bob your head to the consequences?

I do have one correction to share:  The Democrats don’t make it rain in the stripclub. That’s a GOP thing.

She Ain’t No Diva

What in the whitewashed hell is this poster for VH1 Divas supposed to be? And shut up, I’m not saying white people cannot be divas. I country two-stepped to Faith Hill when she appeared on a past edition of the show. Fine, I didn’t, but “Wide Open Spaces” is a personal favorite. Regardless, this is wrong.

Like, what is VH1 trying to give us here? Sexed up M.I.A.? Coked out cage dancer? 1975? Whatever they’re trying to convey in this poster, I’d like to return to sender and give them a do over.

I distinctly remember reading that the show would be honoring the late Whitney Houston. If Auntie Whitney saw this poster, she’d probably spit on it. Wait, that’s more of a Aretha Franklin kind of thing. Nippy would at least roll her eyes something terrible.

You get it. Bad poster. Bad, bad poster. Boo, hiss. For shame. Etcetera, etcetera.

If Only You Were As Good As Think You Are

I wish I could lie to myself as convincingly as Christina Aguilera does. When I feel like my career is stagnated, I sit down in frustration and go upside my own head repeatedly trying to figure out what exactly I need to do in order to evolve and advance. I try to do that humbly, but as Christina Aguilera has shown me, there’s always another way. Just listen to her.

“Bionic was ahead of its time…”

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Lay Down, Lohan

White people of the world, it’s time for y’all to windmill the hell out of the dip shits of your race speaking out of term. I do my part ’round here and elsewhere across the Internet. I’m tagging y’all in.

Now as someone regularly writing about this year’s election cycle I’m quite aware that some fools of the world – say, a Rush Limbaugh here or your garden variety birther there – are too old and too stubborn to see the light and allow it to shine into their thick skulls. Fine. Let their malnourished brain cells die and go to dimwitted hell for all I care.

However, you still have an opportunity to save the minds of young celebrities like Lindsay Lohan. When I read this tweet of her complaining about the punishment she received for her lengthy run of screw ups as opposed to allegations surrounding fellow fuck up Amanda Bynes, I started singing, “I say somebody want they wig split, they wig split.”

That’s not Chris Brown, that’s Mia X and Fiend. 

So let ‘em have it.

I used to think some people were being a bit too hard on her. She is a symptom of white privilege, not the cause. She can’t help it if her low melanin levels coupled with her celebrity kept her from hugging the jail cell the crimes she committed called for.

And you know what? I enjoyed her in Mean Girls. Her pop song wasn’t horrible either. You can call me a modest fan.

Yeah, forget all that right about now.

The nerve of her to actually complain about someone else getting preferential treatment? Evidently it’s not just Mitt Romney who wants to grab national headlines for living in the land of delusion.

Lindsay Lohan has long proven herself to be a white version of Felicia from Friday, so I’m really not up for entertaining whining about how someone else deserves punishment. This is a woman who has been charged several times for various crimes and violated her probation on numerous occasions. Worse, after all that Lindsay reportedly almost went back to jail from theft after previously facing similar charges. She only got off because the dude she yanked jewelry from (allegedly) had a crush on her.

I let that little tweet to President Obama asking for famous rich people tax cuts slide, but this…no.

She is blithely unaware of the privilege she yields. Wait, she isn’t. She follows the “When in doubt, blame the Blacks” mantra — at least in 2007 and a month ago.

Like, Lindsay, good day. Wait, no. Have a horrible, no good, very bad day. You earned it.

I am getting so sick and tired of hearing privileged people try to vilify others while being ignorant about their realities.

Get her, my white brethren.

Book Lindsay a trip to Springfield, set her in front of Montgomery Burns and let him pop the switch that sends her through his trap door. Stat. Once y’all find her, sit her down and give her double dose of reality. At least she’d have a useful high for a change.

Oh, and maybe remind her that Amanda Bynes has only been charged for crimes. She has yet to face a lengthy trial and subsequent plea/conviction, no? Impatient ass generation.

Can’t even wait for a judge to rule before crying out onto the world, “WHY AIN’T SHE MY JAIL PEN PAL YET? HUH? HUH? HUH?”

Gon’ somewhere.

No, Nicki, No

Nicki Minaj seemed to have anticipated the fervency that would follow the release of her verse on Lil’ Wayne’s rehash of “Mercy” off his new Dedication 4 mixtape.

Speaking with MTV News in August, Minaj told the site, “That’s gon’ be real funny.” before adding, “I’m really excited for the kids to hear it.” We’ve now heard it and what has unanimously stood out was the following line, “I’m a Republican voting for Mitt Romney, you lazy b*tches are fucking up the economy.”

Already there’s been a back and forth as to what if anything the quip means. On social media, I noticed that Captain Obvious and his merry band of snarky pedants went above and beyond to remind us that hip-hop is full of metaphor and hyperbole and not everything should be taken so literally. As in, Nicki Minaj isn’t really a monster nor does she have a British gay man named Roman living inside her; therefore, she might not cast a vote for Mitt Romney. That is, if she even can.

Thank you, (mostly White) people. What ever would we do without your helpful ‘duh’ moments of the day?

Not to be outdone, there was also a wave of critiques that essentially boil down to, “I don’t care what Nicki Minaj says.” Do you get it? They don’t care about it so you shouldn’t either.

Thanks for that guidance as well. Can y’all tell me what I should eat tonight, too?

We are all entitled to our opinions, but it’s worth remembering that it’s not always about you, the individual, and that sometimes, what one might feel is a trivial matter still has some bearing on the collective. That said, as much of a fan I am of Nicki Minaj and her trademark stunt queen-like antics for attention, I find her now infamous line problematic all the same.

She essentially rhymed a long-held conservative viewpoint in a way that simplifies a complex issue that most of her fan base won’t understand.

I don’t share the view of Village Voice writer Andy Hutchins who argues that “assuming that Nicki’s fanbase is, by and large, too stupid to realize that a) their hero is in a much different economic and social situation than they are and b) she’s probably kidding is patronizing bullsh*t with sexist and racist (because ‘Barbz’ are fixed in the popular imagination as young, mostly Black girls) overtones.”

Yeah, “we are the world, we are the children,” but if you think I’m a “sexist” and “racist” to think teenagers are easily influenced, you’re riding a PC train that needs to be derailed.

Read the rest here.

Love, Hip Hop and Sanctimony

I admire Mona Scott-Young for having the decency to appear before various people and respond to their delusional and occasionally dim points-of-view about her product. I appreciate her even more for doing so with a sense of perspective in the face of such piety. And yelling, all over her as she’s speaking.

I’ve written a lot about reality TV over the years, trying to defuse this myth that no positive images of Black people in the genre exist, that the shows ought to be protested, and this shortsighted idea that reality programming is damning the race and that I ought to feel guilty for indulging in it.

If there’s anything worse that I hate than sanctimony, it’s hypocrisy or a false sense of superiority. It only took a few weeks of Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta before I saw works tied around the theme, “Those kind of Negroes don’t represent all of Atlanta.” Hey, hey, dippity doo damn duh.

If you don’t like the show, you’re within your right to say so but with such haughtiness? Obviously, Atlanta isn’t solely as seen on VH1 though most understood that Friends and Sex and the City weren’t depicting New York City as a whole either.  As Mona makes clear, it’s a show highlighting a specific segment of the population. She’s right to say that they have every right to be on TV as anyone else does. It’s about balance, not offering a pristine view of a community as a whole that only exists imaginatively.

Meanwhile, if we’re to advocate using our brains, how about we use them to deduce that maybe, just maybe shows like Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta aren’t so much the culprit behind a bevy of problems so much as they are a reflection of them and what happens when they go unsettled for some time?

Which is why I laugh at warnings such as:

It’s worth considering that maybe some disturbing trends in the black community (such as our divorce rates and higher rates of domestic violence, sexual assault, intimate partner homicide and HIV infection) will decrease when we stop tolerating or embracing harmful shows like L&HHA and Basketball Wives that promote relational aggression, sexism, infidelity and verbal, emotional and physical abuse as the norm. Black women: if we can’t stop them from producing these shows, we should consider rejecting such vehicles of our own oppression and the cable networks that deliver them.

Yes, because we all know The Cosby Show ended the crack epidemic of the 1980s and early 1990s, brought forth racial harmony, and sent family planning soaring in the Black community. If you honestly believe that ending Love & Hip Hop: Wherever and Basketball Wives: All Over will cure Black people of all its problems, I question whether you have that great an understanding of the problems we face to begin with.

Or better yet, why can’t I enjoy mindless entertainment the way everyone else can? According to the posted interview, I should be more concerned about the imagery of Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta and what it’s conveying to white people. I am so exhausted by that talking point.

I hate everyone equally, but I couldn’t give any less fuck about what any white person would think of me based on some shit they saw on VH1. The President and First Lady of the United States are both Black and idiots continue to think the absolute worst of them. Idiots who won’t even be qualified to wipe their asses once they are old, at their grayest and on soup restrictive diets. Taking “negative” reality shows off air won’t change that reality. Racism remains far too ingrained in the American psyche.

The white people who know better, or even simply know enough, understand that not everyone person of color they meet is a closet Steebie J or K. Michelle.

This show is a soap opera, and contrary to what you pseudo positivity peddlers say to pander to your audiences, not everything in life has to mirror some bullshit themes you can find in any cookie cutter Mariah Carey ballad from the early 1990s.

That. Is. Not. Real. Life.

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