I make a point of not getting too involved in the lives of those I don’t know personally, in general. In other words, the lives and loves of “celebrities” don’t matter too much on a day-to-day basis to me. But this one I have to mention. Just briefly. Because someone just asked me if I’d seen Nicki Minaj’s new video. My answer, of course, was no. I was entreated to check it out and I did.
Now, I like Nicki and I enjoy some of her music. But a chord was struck. Just last week I remembered seeing an article. Some rap person named Sweatshirt, whom I’ve never heard of, got himself a sliver of attention by stating that Taylor Swift’s new video perpetuated “black stereotypes to the same demographic of white girls who hide their prejudice by proclaiming their love of the culture.” He went on to say “For instance, those of you who are afraid of black people but love that in 2014 it’s ok for you to be trill or twerk or say n—a.”
This, of course, forced me to actually watch Ms. Swift’s video. I lean more toward Metallica and Halestorm, but I thought it was cute and perky. Ms. Minaj’s video is also pretty perky. My question to Mr. Shirt is this: How do you feel about Nicki’s video? If she’s not “perpetuating black stereotypes”, then tell me what she is doing. Or is it only us white folk who can manage to offend in such a way? Anaconda? I’m old enough to know the rest of the words to that song. Evidently, baby still got back. And when did twerking, as ridiculous as it is, become property of one portion of the population?
I just ask that you watch both videos. Then tell me if I’m off track here. Here’s the offensive Taylor Swift ditty.
And here’s Nicki. She’s looking good, actually
So? Am I nuts?
Driving home the other night, I was desperately in need of unwinding to the classic rock tunes I’m so used to on one my favorite “Classic Rock” radio stations. The day had been insane, as most of my days seem to be lately. It was a really dark, cold night and as I waited for the heat to come up in the car and seat to heat, I flipped on the radio.
Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick In The Wall” was more than half way through. Not my favorite PF tune, but I kept listening. The final words of the song just barely ended, “How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat!” and then…..”Doot-doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot-doot…”
“There’s a port…on a western bay…”
I come from a long line of women who have premonitions. And I don’t like it.
I woke this morning from a dream I was glad to wake from. It was tiring me to the point that I felt its effects until after I had showered and forced myself into the day. Where I was in the dream I can’t say, except to say I was a long way from home, but not in a foreign country. It felt like California, but I’ve never actually been to the west coast so I can’t be sure.
For some reason I was part of a large crowd, on a line, waiting to have our pictures taken by someone important. Why, I have no idea. But it seemed to be a very important objective I needed to accomplish before I could return whence I had come. The anxiety came from the fact that I could not stop thinking about the long trip home that I knew I could not avoid. And this dream sampled another dream I have had before, of a long airplane ride in an absolutely huge jet with wall to wall carpeting and comfortable beds mixed with comfy chairs. As plush as this dream plane may be, I do not enjoy flying. I will do it, as I dislike even more the thought of being trapped or stuck without the ability to go places, but I do not enjoy the experience as a whole.