The Black Snob

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Rants: Feel My Pain

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This week in real life “Snob News” I took dear Mama Snob to see “Cadillac Records.” Despite her disdain for all profanity (and the fact that she hadn’t seen a film in a theater since “Harlem Nights” back in 1989), she wanted to see the film because she is a fan of the blues, hardcore.

Mama Snob spent much of my formative years teaching and torturing my sisters and myself with blues music. Everything from Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf (who’s doppelgangers were in the film) to B.B. King, Bobby “Blue” Bland, Johnnie Taylor (who is actually R&B if you ask my mother), ZZ Hill, Denise LaSalle and Koko Taylor. Some of it I grew to love. Others I still can’t stand to this very day. (I truly do not want to pitch a wang-dang-doodle all night long. Or put on my “wig hat,” as LaSalle suggests on one ditty.) But watching the film and, most notably, Beyonce Knowles’ portrayal of Etta James reminded me of what separates great art from great pop art.

In the film, Beyonce is playing Etta James, a woman with a distinct, passionate voice that hits you emotionally to your core. Some of her songs are joyous. Some are gospel. Some are blues. All hit with an undercurrent of suffering.

Beyonce is a perfected R&B/Pop princess with a pristine, over-worked voice who can kill stylistically, but has never moved me emotionally. Basically, her acrobatics are amazing, but she could also be the T-888 of pop singers.

She has been successful in moving me to the dance floor. That’s been a capability of hers since I was in college and someone would throw on “Bills, Bills, Bills.” She’s the queen of the “all-sass, all-the-time, independent/strong black woman” song. The “I’m so awesome and don’t need your tired ass” song, that — as I’ve mentioned before — is more science fiction than reality in relationships. Yeah, sometimes you get to wave it in a guy’s face and sing “if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it,” but most of the time it’s just you, drunk, at home, watching “Mo’ Betta Blues” for the millionth time wondering why-oh-why won’t Denzel Washington come to your house and beg you to save his life?

Did I ever stand in your way, Denzel? Did I ever try to stop you from doing what you wanted to do!?! The only reason you’re here is because you can’t play anymore!

As I watched Beyonce emote her way through the film (and she tried to emote her little ass off), there was something not quite right. Knowles admitted that she really had to dig deep as an actor because of Etta’s anger and inner turmoil, (Etta had it rough and really, really liked liquor and smack, etc., etc.) At the end of the day, she came up with a convincing facsimile of suffering, but I never, for the life of me, believed in that suffering.

It’s not that I don’t think Beyonce has inner drama. Everyone does. Everyone has doubt and failings and pain. My argument is that Beyonce does not want you to know of this drama, any real drama, that is. She’s closely guarded with an even more tightly guarded image. She is more about being the fantasy of what she thinks you want her to be (cue “Sasha Fierce!”) rather than revealing anything of character.

In “Cadillac Records,” Adrian Brody’s character, Leonard Cohen, argues with Beyonce’s James’ lack of emotion in her initial takes of the song “All I Could Do Was Cry.” He makes the point that the song is about a woman watching another woman marry the man she loves. James’ digs deep and finds that pain, albeit it’s not about being dumped by a long-lost love. A scene later you learn about her being the neglected, bastard child of a white man.

Beyonce does good work with the scene, as she does with her few scenes in the movie (the film rushes in so many huge personalities that no one seems to get any justice as a character, including Etta James). But the scene underscores the point that it really doesn’t matter when the song is about pain. The pain has to be real for the song to have meaning. And that’s what separates someone with a wonderful voice who makes an outstanding pop artist from a true artist.

A true artist brings the pain.

I don’t have to convince you that original Fugee’s member, musical genius and lost child, Lauryn Hill has issues. We all know, homegirl has issues. But often, when I wanted to think of a modern song, like Etta James’ classic “I’d Rather Go Blind” or Issac Hayes’ cover of “Walk On By” that makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry, I think of Hill’s “Ex-Factor.”

“Ex-Factor,” on its face, can be taken as a brilliant love unrequited/love denied ballad, but it doesn’t stop there. As Hill explores deeper and deeper into the song and lays out her blueprint of pain, it becomes very apparent that this song doesn’t have to be about a crappy boyfriend or a wayward husband or a married man who won’t leave his wife for you. By the end of the song it is a plea for undying love, the kind you’re supposed to get from the first man to ever love you — your father. And once you cross that threshold suddenly the song is about abandonment — by anyone. Did your mother abandon you? You may cry while listening to “Ex-Factor.” Did you grow up and age out of the child welfare system? You may cry while listening to “Ex-Factor.” Were you abused as a child? You may cry while listening to “Ex-Factor.” Did you spend 35 years as a housewife, raising five kids to find out that your husband has another woman and another five kids, secretly, on the other side of the country? Cry! Ex-Factor is for you.

Hell, you don’t even have to be a woman to cry during Ex-Factor. Just be from the land of broken toys. Be the neglected. Be the rejected. Once you get to the end where Hill pleads, “you said you’d be there for me” over and over she could be singing Pslams for all I know, wondering where is God and why He abandoned her. That’s how universal, yet specific, her vocal pain is.

And what does Knowles have? “If I Were A Boy?” a song, I HATE WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING. It’s a nice enough song. But it’s not particularly deep or painful. It basically entails that if Knowles were a man all she’d do is drink and hang out with guys without question. The video doesn’t hit any harder, which didn’t seem to relate to gender politics at all if you ask any guy whoever had a girlfriend cheat on him with a co-worker. It also resonates if you’re a man who has been routinely emasculated by the woman you love. (BB once sang how he gave you seven children and now you want to send them back!) These things are pretty common place. If anything, I thought the video was about gender equity among cheaters.

Women! We can cheat too! Except, we always have! So never mind!

And, gee. I think Gwen Stefani and the rest of No Doubt addressed this issue better on “Just A Girl” back in 1995. Or Leslie Gore on “You Don’t Own Me” in 1964. Or hey, how about less than two years ago, by Ciara, on a track called “Like A Boy,” a song I actually enjoyed despite it being a blatant Aaliyah rip-off, down to the baggy pants, hair weave and wonderful pop n’ lock routine. At least on the somewhat gimmicky, but fun single it was about being angry that the rules of sex and sexuality were different for men and women. Both Ciara’s and Beyonce’s songs tread similar gender role themes (staying out all night, turning off your phone, etc.) But Beyonce’s “If I Were A Boy” is a sappy, whiny “This Used to Be My Playground”-esque ballad about pseudo-feminism.

Ciara is doing her best Leslie Gore of, “how would you like it if I did it to you, huh? You wouldn’t like that would you! We totally aren’t going to prom now!”

And it’s not like Ciara has a catalog of pain to draw back on (that I know of). But she makes it work. Largely because it’s a revenge fantasy, not about how awesome Ciara is and that she could do that to a guy, but that she WISHES she could do that to a guy. Never once does she say, “Screw this. I’m converting to being an ass.”

And I’m not a big fan of Mary J. Blige, but I call feel the capillaries bursting on every one of her tracks. When she sang that she couldn’t be without you, I believed she could not be without that person. Same went for “No More Drama,” another song which makes me cry despite my best efforts, because, in the end, you are responding to her raw emotion, her appeal to wanting to leave a tumultuous life behind and be the person she wants to be.

Some people say Beyonce wants greatness, hence why she chases those who already have it (see James, Etta). I can’t blame her. A lot of us do. This would also explain why at the last few of Grammy Awards she sang with Tina Turner and Prince as if their true measure of pain and “fierce” would rub off by osmosis. She’s obviously a hard worker, but no amount of hard work can fake pain. When Prince sang “When Doves Cry” you may not have known what the song was about in 1984. Maybe you still don’t. But you know he’s broken up over something. A woman. His parents. God. Himself. Ultimately, for me, the song is about obsession. But, sex, Jesus or obsession are good fallback explanations for nearly every Prince song.

Turner is the same way. She didn’t even write “What’s Love Got to Do With It,” yet the emotions, the sound, the pain were all Tina’s. No amount of wonderful song writing can create that.

I’m not saying Beyonce needs to get in a dysfunctional relationship, be abandoned by her family, pick up a drug habit (or several drug habits), becomes completely disallusioned by fame and moved to the islands, become a conflicted Christian who went pop or go nutbar on me but the great ones give up some pain. There’s really no way around it. Without the pain, you’re just a more charming Mariah Carey who can actually dance. Or worse, Janet Jackson with better vocals.

Both Mariah and Janet have outstanding pop careers. And if you want to be a wealthy, beloved, popular singer, you’re on their heels of catching and surpassing them in sales and accolades. But Whitney, the trainwreck everyone routes for, you will not. Beyonce Knowles can’t convince me she knows the blues. It’s her only real flaw as a performer. Her kryptonite. But she shouldn’t feel bad. It’s a pretty common flaw among pop singers. Usher can kiss Dead James Brown’s ass all he wants. He’ll still sound like someone said “just push play.”

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Written by blacksnob

December 29, 2008 at 8:15 pm

Celebrity Sandwich With Cheese

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A spoonful of celebrity helps the political debate go down!

For those who are veterans of Barack V. McCain II: The Battle of Belmont University, please enjoy my batch of mindlessness celebrity ogling — Beyonce, Kerry Washington, Lenny Kravitz, Nick and Mariah, Zoe Saldana, Tyler Perry and many, many more!

BEYONCE WITH BENEFITS

A toned down R&B diva Beyonce made an appearance at the International Pediatric Hall of Fame Children’s Hospital Foundation Diamond Ball and Concert. It’s always a little weird to see her with the unbeweaveable lace-front, but actually think she looks nice — like some trillionaire Middle Eastern royal’s wife.

Although, the Queen of Jordon wouldn’t rock such a low neckline. Everything else though? Spot on.

Also performing at the benefit: Smokey Robinson

And disco diva, Gloria Gaynor. Still surviving.

KERRY WASHINGTON, LENNY KRAVITZ GET FASHIONABLE IN PARIS

Kerry is very adorable here. Cindy McCain is looking at that outfit and wondering if it comes in a size zero. Of course, Cindy’s rather pale and this lovely light blue and white ensemble might wash her out, so she’ll be looking for it in Nancy Reagan red. I even like the odd collar ruffle on the jacket (even if it makes her look like a Star Fleet ensign). Although the almost nude lipstick with the smokey eye is not working for me. Other than that, she’s super pretty, pretty. Too bad, so sad her last film “Lakeview Terrence” was lacking in all kinds of ways.

Kerry and burlesque star Dita Von Tesse who is everything Rose McGowan wishes she was.

Lenny Kravitz, dressed like a rocker as always (he’s HUGE in Paris), wants to take a picture of …

YOU!

MAKE IT LAST FOREVER:
NICK CANNON AND MARIAH BUTTERFLY RAINBOW CAREY

Everyday is like Sears pictures with these people. Or Glamor Shots. Or Prom pictures. Either way, they’re posing and taking pictures.

ZOE SALDANA FOR EVIAN WATER

Hate the shoes. Hate the hair. Still love the Zoe. Her smile is a little pinched, but forgivable.

And finally, the motherload …

TYLER PERRY’S OPENING OF TYLER PERRY STUDIOS IN ATLANTA, GA

Will Smith flashes the peace sign, but where is Jada! Or the kids? And can you please talk your wife out of playing Michelle Obama in the possible biopic that we know will eventually come? That said, you look great. Maybe you can hook Tyler Perry up with some film tips … like, let his writer’s unionize and let real directors and writers make his Peyton Place visions sing.

That said, the black Hollywood community showed one of their most recent and biggest successes oodles of love in Atlanta. Everyone from film royalty to D-list all-stars paid their respects.

“THEY CALL ME MR. TIBBS!” Sidney Poitier, theatrical royalty.

And now, Mr. Perry stands next to the royalty. In an all white suit. I wonder what Poitier and Perry talked about when they were together? “I loved you in Uptown Saturday Night! Hilarious!” And it was hilarious, Perry. Hilarious.

And now Perry stands next to I’m the next best thing to money on your movie bank, Will “Ching-Ching Goes the Registar” Smith.

“No, no. This is how we wear it Philly style. That’s money, right there, son.”

Allen Payne. He is the man I loved before I loved TJ Holmes. But as much as I love G Money (and Lord knows I do), I can’t bring myself to watch “House of Payne” on TBS.

It breaks my heart. He was in “The Perfect Storm,” “A Price Above Rubies,” “Jason’s Lyric,” “New Jack City,” and “CB4” as Dead Mike and he was sexy as hell.

Home run hitter, steroids aficionado Barry Bonds and his wife Liz.

People who would make slightly more sense as Michelle Obama in a film: Tasha Smith. What a statuesque glamazon. Love the flamenco inspired black gown. Heavy drama. That dress gives off mad drama. It would look really hot on Jill Marie Jones … who wasn’t at this event. I miss looking at her looking flawless in things so much.

Thank God I have Patti LaBelle. This looks like a number from Diahann Carroll’s “no. 1 black bitch” days on Dynasty. It’s taking me back … to fierce.

Patti, LA Reid and Erica Reid

Eva Pigford … OK, the ladies are killing this. Eva looks hot, although the dress reminds me a bit of something I’ve seen Halle Berry in before. Not that her date Lance Goss is hard on the eyes. Very nice.

Two people too good looking to be alive — Nicole Ari Parker and Boris Kodjoe. I love Nicole’s haircut. It’s a longer on the top, more punk version of Nicole Murphy’s hairdo. It’s tough, but sexy. I can’t quite figure out the dress, (the weird balloon/bunching, the black lace top) but it’s black and she’s standing next to Boris, so she looks great.

People who would make slightly more sense as Michelle Obama in a film: Kimberly Elise

The Sean “Diddy” Combs of gospel, Kirk Franklin and his wife.

Actress Jennifer Lewis

Singer John Legend looking very Frankie, Sammy, Dean and the other two guys.

The unsinkable Star Jones. The dress does nothing for her and she could really use the support of a nice bra. Hate, hate, hate this flamenco ruffle at the bottom. It brings none of the drama Tasha Smith’s did. And the weave? Not feeling it. Maybe she should call up Beyonce or Jessica Simpson and get some lacefront tips.

Malik Yoba. He will remain forever in my heart for New York Undercover. It amazes me he never landed on any of the million police procedural shows on network and cable TV.

Lynn Whitfield goes for the drama too, but I’m hating all of it. But I won’t hold it against her.

Civil Rights icon and Congressman John Lewis represented his state and the guy who is pumping money into it view opening this studio.

Gladys Knight and hubby, William McDowell.

Terri J. Vaughn takes Star’s botched flamenco and raises her one scaled fish tail.

God, I haven’t seen this guy in anything since that horrible live action version of Spawn. Michael Jai White (who also played a mean Iron Mike in an HBO picture eons ago). He’s pictured here his wife Courtney. If he’d been a stronger actor, or if Spawn had been successful or if Wesley Snipes had crashed and burned in the mid-90s, the athletic, martial artist White might have had a better career. Wait? Was that him in The Dark Knight as the black gangster? That’s still a career of sorts! It’s no Blade, but Wesley won’t be getting anything as good as Blade for a long time.

The unsinkable Tracey Edmonds. So pretty yet I still don’t like her.

An adorable Holly Robinson Peete (with a giant rose boob and wearing dark blue and NOT black like everyone else) with her mother, Dolores Robinson. OMG! Her mom and my mom have almost the same name! And how cute is it to bring your mother to the big fancy party? Mommy’s like to party too!

Ruby Dee. Eighty-three-years-old and still more fierce than any of us on our best day. I bow down.

I’m not familiar with this woman (Denise Laughton) or her work, but I really liked the layered look of her curve flattering dress.

Wesley Jonathon. Before his doppelganger married Mariah Carey, I used to get Jonathon confused with Nick Cannon in pictures. Jonathon is hotter than Cannon, but they have similar smiles.

Solid as a rock! Valerie Simpson and Nick Ashford. They were never fly, so I didn’t expect them to be as hot as Ruby Dee. Nor did I expect Nick to give up the perm. But they’ve been together for decades and black love is beautiful, so rock on tacky songwriters! You’ve given us and lovers so much through your line of work.

Wanda Smith? No. I realize you’re a comic, but … no. I called both Star Jones and Tracey Edmonds “unsinkable,” but in this get up you truly look like the original Unsinkable Molly Brown, aka Margaret Brown, a brassy aristocrat who survived the sinking of the Titanic, has a musical named for her and was played by Kathy Bates in the film version of the disaster.

Molly Brown is all, “Is that Madame CJ Walker?”

Written by blacksnob

October 8, 2008 at 10:55 pm

People I Don’t Want To Be: Solange Knowles

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Did anyone catch Solange Knowles on Letterman Monday night? I caught a glimpse of the performance on accident and was reminded, yet again, how much it sucks to be in the shadow of a sibling/spouse/parent who is bigger, badder and better than you at everything. An individual you will be compared to and will never be good enough to satisfy those who became enamored with your loved one/rival.

Solange is an average, but pretty performer who tries really, really hard and because of this I know that if she weren’t the other daughter of Tina and Matthew Knowles, the parents who produced Beyonce, she would be doing anything but singing. She’d be in college. Or she’d be working at a bank or sewing in your weave. But she wouldn’t be singing for her supper.

Not everyone can be Janet Jackson. Most are Tito Jackson. Not everyone is Eddie Murphy, but if Solange is lucky she can find her own niche like Charlie Murphy whose career was reborn once he started playing a thug life version of himself on the Chappelle Show and famously recounted tales of slap fights with Rick James.

Maybe Solange had slap fights with Rihanna or Jamie Lyn Spears or something. Maybe she got in a scuffle with Jennifer Freeman or Kyla Pratt or Meagan Good or Jurnee Smollette or [insert young blacktress here]. Maybe she’s a better actress than her sister? Or designer? Or she could run for senate? But by singing and performing she is just ramming her head into a giant brick wall of Beyonce.

Every performance Solange gives will be like she just had to come on stage after her sister ripped it up dress in an homage to Josephine Baker while singing “Crazy In Love.” It doesn’t matter if Beyonce isn’t anywhere in the room. That’s what everyone is thinking.

She’s a cute kid. It’s a shame really. Especially the dancing. The dancing looked extra crazy. Some described it as “Suge Avery-esque.” I would have gone with seizure-esque, but see, this, this is what happens when you’re Beyonce’s sister and you have no hips because you’re skinny and you look ridiculous trying to dance like a wild woman like she does.

But shake that weave any ol’ way. You’ll figure it out on your own.

Written by blacksnob

August 27, 2008 at 12:19 am

Beyonce’s Michael Jackson Syndrome

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The L’Oreal Beyonce “paleface” ad, while getting a lot of attention on the Web, had a lot of Snob readers (among others) pointing out that Beyonce and her peeps had to be complicit in this act of stupidity. Being ever the nosy person I am, my curiosity was piqued at the implied depth of Bey’s “Creole fever.” After hearing from a commenter on Facebook that Beyonce actually looked close to this pale in a recent public appearance I fired up my WireImage account to see what she looked like in the most recent public shindig they shot of her on file.

I found these pics from May 6th at the 40/40 Club in NYC.

I want to talk about how horrid that outfit is with the shiny thick dance competition tights and black leather gloves and those disastrous shoes, but that’s not what this entry is about. It’s about the skin tone which is … dramatically lighter.

Once again, with the blonde hair she’s almost unrecognizable, although she is still not as light as the L’Oreal ad. Still, realistically she could have done some extra “brightening” between May and when that photo was taken. Heck, some lighting changes at the shoot could create the full-on “Casper” look.

Once again, not surprised, but it’s disappointing when light brown celebrities become ever-more-lighter-brown celebrities. Mostly because a nose job is a dime-a-dozen and the Britney-Lindsay-Paris-Jessica Simpson celebrity industrial complex lives for orange fake bake and three-square-meals of cigarettes n’ Starbucks per day, but outside of the Howard Hughes tragedy that is Michael Jackson, I don’t know a lot of black celebrities who’ve done something this dramatic to their skin tone. (Wait … just remembered Wendy Williams and Lil Kim, but Beyonce actually has a discernible talent so it seems unfair to lump her in with the Wicked Witches of the East Coast.) Perhaps they start using sunblock or carrying an umbrella everywhere, but there is only so much sunblock and umbrellas can do to fight the natural browning of your blackness.

This is a little silly, isn’t it? Especially when you’re a celeb as ubiquitous as she is, who everyone has seen ad nauseum and is expected to look familiar, not sickly pale, like your liver is failing. Pre-lightening she was already successful and accepted. This wasn’t a Lisa Kudrowneeded nose job to get foot in door” situation. But Jackson, who was a millionaire by the time he was ten, was successful and accepted yet he looks like the world’s least attractive, nose-less Johnny Depp impersonator.

Once you start freaking people out it’s a sign that you’re hitting the point-of-no-return, where folks begin to wonder if this is a black celebrity version of anorexia, but for skin tone. That you’ve become all “vitiligo” translucent not for success, but because you have serious mental problems. The kind where you think if you just become three shades paler all those Jay-Z/Rihanna rumors will go away. Where pigmentation equals improved acting quality. Where whiteness will make that tacky outfit she has on look better.

Nope. Still tacky.

Written by blacksnob

August 8, 2008 at 12:18 am

Morgan Freeman, out of the hospital and divorcing … And L’Oreal sez Beyonce is au naturale in that picture. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.

with 8 comments

#1) Man, is Morgan Freeman having a sucky week or what? First you almost get killed in a car accident, have surgery, you’ve broken all kinds of bones and then the news breaks that you and the misses are splitsville. Fun times.

Freeman went home from the hospital today, while his press flack broke the news about the divorce.

Freeman’s business partner and attorney Bill Luckett broke the news, telling the Memphis Commercial-Appeal newspaper there is a “divorce action pending,” but refusing to give further details.

Luckett added that the actor and his wife, a costumer, has been separated for the better part of the past year.

“For legal and practical purposes, [Freeman and Colley-Lee] have been separated since December of 2007,” he told Access Hollywood on Wednesday.

Freeman and Colley-Lee married in 1984. The actor was previously wed to Jeanette Adair Bradshaw from 1967 to 1979.

I’m glad Freeman is recovering though and is going to be OK as heals up over the next six months. He deserves a break. The man is in three movies this year. But I wonder how this will affect the film where he was supposed to play Nelson Mandela, Clint Eastwood’sThe Human Factor?” Freeman is actually the star in that and how often does he get to headline?

But I can’t see Clint shooting it without him. Those old coots really like working together.

#2) L’Oreal has pulled a “Shaggy” and is singing “it wasn’t me,” to the lightening act on Beyonce’s face. They swear she simply showed up looking like Casper the Friendly Ghost.

E! Online has a less ashen copy of the ad on their site, but it’s still pretty jarring.

Sayeth E!:

Today, the French cosmetics giant is adamantly denying that it gave its longtime spokeswoman a case of the Michael Jacksons.

“Beyoncé Knowles has been a spokesperson for the L’Oréal Paris brand since 2001,” the company said in a statement to E! News, after coming under withering online attacks suggesting the ad (on right, above) lightened more than just the hair color of the brand’s famous face.

“We highly value our relationship with Ms. Knowles. It is categorically untrue that L’Oréal Paris altered Ms. Knowles’ features or skin-tone in the campaign for Feria’s hair color.”

A rep for the 27-year-old Knowles declined to comment beyond the L’Oréal statement.

Decline to comment, eh? The not-so-secret plot thickens.

Written by blacksnob

August 7, 2008 at 7:44 pm

OMG and WTFs For L’Oreal’s New Beyonce Ad

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An item of note from Wednesday:

What the hell is THIS unholy abomination?

People joke about the forever “brightening” of Beyonce, but this is just ridiculous. L’Oreal went out of control with the PhotoShop and unnecessarily so, considering she is unrecognizable. And what’s the point of having a celebrity spokesperson if you can’t tell that’s the celebrity who once sang lead on a song called “Bootylicious?”

They were ready for the jelly, but they needed it to look more “vampiric.”

I was hipped to this “creation” by Negro Intellectual who found it on TMZ. I’m not a huge Beyonce fan (although I am a fan of all divas to a degree), but it is pretty insulting to do this to her. To basically tell her that, “oh no … you’re not light enough, Bey. You could always be LIGHTER,” is highly insulting. Most people, white or black or Asian or whatever, already find Beyonce attractive as her caramel self. Extremely attractive to the point that they often embarrass themselves slipping on their own drool.

And she’s so profitable and so ubiquitous. She’s everywhere, even shilling for American Expressas her brown self. She has proven, as UPS used to tag, “what Brown can do for you.” So really? What up, L’Oreal? Ease up on the whitewash before some stans start organizing a protest on why you made their favorite chick look like some bland, ashy-faced blonde when she was perfectly fine just the way she was.

Brown.

She was fine BROWN! Keep Beyonce brown, lest the stans revolt!

Written by blacksnob

August 7, 2008 at 6:24 am

Name That Rapper!

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Black Snob regular Isonprize posted this to me under my threat on AverageBro’s live-blogging of the BET Awards.

(E)ither Jay-Z got better lookin’ or I just forgot what Jay-Z looks like, cause that ain’t Jay-Z.

Is that Jay-Z??? Or maybe I got a pair of them glasses in that commercial … Damn.

Watch the above video on the Barack Obama’s second time on the cover of Rolling Stone and skip to 1:09 minutes into the video.

Fellow Snobs, that dude is not Jay-Z, but I haven’t followed hip hop closely since the Shiny Suit Era. So I ask you … name that rapper! Or singer, I have no clue who that dude is but he is NOT, not I tell you, JAY-Z!

As Isonprize pointed out that man, for one, is not ugly enough to be Jay-Z. They don’t call the man “Camel Joe” just for poops and giggles. And for twosees, damn, what the hell, NBC? The Today Show is made in New York. Jay-Z proclaimed himself the King of New York like, I don’t know, five minutes after the Shiny Suit Era ended with Biggie’s death when Jay started committing heresy by referring to himself as Jay-Hovah (H-to-the-Izz-Oh!) and rapping to lyrics from the Broadway musical “Annie.”

I realize the folks producing The Today Show may not listen to hip hop and might not know who Jay is (even though they reported on his wedding to Beyonce, and Beyonce and Jay have been on the show), but that is NOT AN EXCUSE! I didn’t know shit about country music, but as an entertainment reporter in Bakersfield I hung out at Buck Owens’ Crystal Palace anyway. Yeah, I couldn’t pick Trisha Yearwood out of a line-up, but I wasn’t too ashamed to Googling her!

That said, Camel Joe and his lady love can be none too pleased about this latest snubbing. If they’d confused him with Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Jay could defend himself with the egotastic rebuttle of “I’m better looking than that MFer, ya heard?” But to use a far more handsome man? Gadzooks, NBC. That’s cold-hearted.

Written by blacksnob

June 26, 2008 at 2:15 am