I finished watching the new Kanye West longform music video "Runaway" last week just before Thanksgiving.
Truthfully, Kanye's never been much of a rapper to me but, of course, I'm not a rap aficionado. He is clearly creative, however, and obviously quite a producer. That said, here it is, all 30-something minutes, if you're interested (raw language is periodically used throughout):
My goodness, what a beautiful chick to feature in his video! Selita Ebanks is her name and she stars as something of a phoenix (defined as a legendary Arabian bird said to periodically burn itself to death and emerge from the ashes as a new phoenix; according to most versions only one phoenix lived at a time and it renewed itself every 500 years) who is alien to modern earth and ultimately repulsed by what she sees of life on earth in the 21st century.
Here's an unrelated picture of Selita that captured my eye, courtesy of TheBeauteeShop, from her work with Victoria's Secret:
Quite a woman, quite a phoenix. Skinny, to be sure, but quite a woman. I absolutely loved her in the "Runaway" video and I also thought the overall imagery in the film was impressive.
As for the story/video/theme --what can I do but sigh, and then slice.
Charitably speaking, okay, Kanye, okay. People are phony, unaccepting, sheep-like slaves to manipulation and conformity and host to all manner of other ills, and on top of all that they are sinful as hell (yourself included, Kanye??? Or are you an alien and different enough to except yourself from the norms of humanity? Like a phoenix? No, I think one point he was trying to make is he's screwed up but so are all of us -- okay, Kanye, okay).
Yep, ladies and gentlemen, go run and shout it from the hilltops. This world is doomed (freedom = free doom) . . . so, escape if you can. And, oh yeah, America is a bastard. At least that part of America that isn't with the conscience crowd and isn't still apologizing for African slavery (as opposed to Arab enslavement of Africans, or, one wonders, as opposed to world slavery in general?), blasé, blasé, blasé, yada, yada, yada.
Now it's time for me to be what some will surely describe as uncharitable: Kanye, this is what you are pushing as revolutionary and thought provoking? This is how you exhibit your creativity? Gil Scott-Heron and Comment #1 ??? Really? In 2010? With an African American as President? With black folks winning seats in Congress from districts that are primarily white in the South? And Republican? With Jay-Z as something of a music mogul, owning his music and more? With black athletes earning millions in multiple professional sports and some of them breaking into ownership of professional franchises? With black businesses open and productive all over the nation and African Americans indisputably the richest community of African descent anywhere on the planet?
Apparently so.
One approving reviewer of the film, Ken Tucker, wrote:
Late in Runaway, the phoenix speaks: “You know what I hate about your world? Anything that is different you try to change, you try to tear it down.” West’s visual and musical sophistication was constantly contrasted with images of the phoenix’s playful innocence, until she finally burst into flames and ascended back “to my world,” as she put it, leaving West’s character desperate, running down the road after her, left alone.
Me? What do I think of the video?
I say it's drivel dredged up from the time period of the late 60s, early 70s or so, a time when ABC Records wouldn't promote what would become Louis Armstrong's classic "What A Wonderful World" in America because it just wasn't revolutionary cool, don't you know. ABC apparently had to be shamed by the British public (who made Armstrong's classic a number one single over there) to really push it in the land of its birth.
How incredible is that? Quite incredible, to me.
The bitch-and-moan babies on the far left still insist on bitchin' and moanin' as a governing mindset in the 21st century, even as they earn millions while simultaneously disrespecting many more millions. As financial instability lurks on the global stage, as an era of making do with less, an era of genuine austerity when judged by the standards of the late 20th century, inches ever closer to becoming reality. In the face of all that, here comes Kanye with "Runaway."
Note to Kanye (George Bush Hates Black People) West: you might want to quit sucking from your Mama's revolutionary dead tit.
Yeah, brother, I got a plan. Runaway from your mindset as fast as I can.
So, two days ago my old friend out here (James Hurd) who is graciously shepherding me around Southern California quite a bit says, "Why don't we go out and watch the 2nd Sunday playoff game at (Rick's house, Randy's house, Richard's house; hell, I can't keep these names straight) -- he's a University of Florida grad." Cool with me, I say.
Well, let me tell you, yesterday the cold and gray weather arrived in Southern California -- and yes, it did rain. In more ways than one. The Cowboys got smoked by Minnesota (boo!). Clearly, the day was not off to a good start. Not the least of which was due to the game starting at 10 a.m. out here. Extremely weird.
But things picked up out in Glendale (Armenia-ville? Really? Very interesting.) Rick and Brenda were good hosts and the collection of friends there who knew James clearly loved and respected him. Therefore, they were comfortable with me. We all enjoyed the game (I think), there was much chatter to be had, but it's playoff time so I was (of course) zeroed in on the game.
We only had one continuing black-white social thing during the visit. It was raining outside, temperature in the mid 50's . . . and there was no damn heat on in the house. Plus, some windows were clearly open. Florida Boy was cold, okay? But it was a minor nuisance. Brenda is from Ireland and clearly was comfortable as hell. And it's her damn house. I was cool with that. And she had made these cookies in the shape of a shark that I could have eaten all day. Cook me something I like and I will put up with all kinds of things. Seriously.
The game ended, and my mind was drifting towards filling up the remainder of the day with other things, but James and Linda weren't making any moves. We were clearly staying put. Okay. Then the L.A. thing happened.
It was five damn o'clock and the damn Golden Globes were coming on.
What!?!
"Yeah, bruh. Might as well sit back and prepare to enjoy this show," I said to myself. This is their industry and they were absolutely going to watch this show intently.
I have to admit, it was fascinating to watch them watching this show. Listening to them commenting on their industry, dishing dirt, giving kudos, disagreeing over certain awards, occasionally disagreeing with themselves. Hey, I love to watch people doing simple things -- okay? So this wasn't going to be hard at all.
Ordinarily, I would never have watched the Golden Globes unless my wife called me into the room because of X, Y or Z was either happening or about to happen. This was different. I was observing in real time a specific path not taken by me. There was certainly a part of me that wanted to come out here and immerse myself in this industry. Had I done so, I likely would have generated friends very much like these (one of the things I always loved about James is that although he is black to the bone and very close to his culture, he could mix and mingle with white people without batting an eye or being self-conscious at all; I appreciate that skill).
About the show: I don't really know who this Ricky Gervais guy is but I thought he was outstanding. I can sometimes be hard on the British but this man was having fun and, I thought, handling his j.o.b. for the night quite well. He dropped some serious bombs that got immediate reaction in the house and he set them up well. All of the other stuff I'm going to by and large ignore for the following obvious reason: the very nanosecond that Halle Berry stepped out on that stage, time stood still.
Okay?
Do you feel me?
I mean, just take a look at this magnificent woman:
Dayyyuuuuummmmmm !!! And I don't think those pictures do justice to her presence on that stage. Yes, I'm well aware I'm "objectifying" her. And I will continue to do so; it's natural and you couldn't stop it if you wanted to. Men and women are both programmed to do so and it is that programming that has ensured the survival of our species.
Finally, Eric Benet is a damn idiot and I could beat his ass right now for not treating this woman right.
That's all, my friends. It's very early in the morning out here (not quite 5:30 a.m.; I've been up for at least a couple of hours) and I'm going to try and take advantage (amidst the cold rain) of my last full day in SoCal.
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