RazzyBlog: Daily Douchebag: Kanye West

Friday, August 03, 2007

Daily Douchebag: Kanye West

Name: Kanye Omari West

DOB: June 8, 1977

Occupation: Rapper, producer, college dropout, deity

Hometown: Oak Lawn, Illinois

Current residence: Chicago, Illinois

Douchebaggery: Kanye's been pissing me off for a long fucking time now. Every time he does something I like (ie: "George Bush hates black people"), he mitigates it with something I hate (preceding that insightful post-Katrina statement with a full two minutes of incoherent rambling about himself--shut UP, motherfucker, because you are a wealthy white man who flies your favorite foods overseas on private jets for fucking business meetings). Further evidence of his certifiable insanity can be inferred from his regular association with the mentally unbalanced:

He's also a fucking hypocrite on par with that homo-hating pastor who got busted snorting meth off his boyfriend's asshole. I loved when he did that "Diamonds from Sierra Leone" song in which he lectured everyone about conflict diamonds, when he's perenially rocking a diamond-encrusted suffering Christ medallion. This fits nicely with his delusions of messianic grandeur, best exemplified by this Rolling Stone cover. Right around the time he donned his crown of thorns and crucifixion-ready faux face scourging on, he mentions that if the Bible were written today, he'd assuredly merit a chapter (at least) in it of his own. With humility like that, he is assuredly the pride of his born-again congregation for being most Christ-like:

Even worse, as further proof that God complexes are catching, this whole Jesus thing seems to have rubbed off on his regular collaborator and fellow despicable, egotistical piece of trash Jamie Foxx, the "savior of R&B." And as a Catholic, I can say that I say a decade of Hail Marys every night in the hopes that God will send his only Son back again to dance around and sing "Gold Digger" in a bunch of old, Nick Cannon pit-stained costumes from the movie Drumline:

While I'm certainly not the first person to point out Kanye's many incongruous beliefs and actions, I think that my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson got it exactly right when he stated, "He puts together witty phrases and he's a great talent as a producer, but I still don't know who Kanye West is when I listen to him. By listening to the record (College Dropout), I don't know who he is. I know he's been in a car accident, that's what I know." Of course, then 50 went on to say "I feel like Kanye West is successful because of me" on the grounds that people who couldn't handle 50's beef-loving style were "looking for something non-confrontational, and they went after the first thing that came out. That was Kanye West." Man, I fucking love 50 Cent. He can't breathe without dissing someone, and in most cases, they deserve it so much.

Anyway, in addition to seeming considering himself the Second Coming (hey dudes, brace yourselves for the Apocalypse if that's true...has anyone checked what's going on in the Valley of Megiddo lately?), as well as the ultimate authority on stuff that's acceptable (anything he's ever shit out) versus not (anything he hasn't that garners more critical praise), Kanye has now decided he is the arbiter of slang terms as well. This week, he told Complex magazine his views on the word "bling," a word that since its introduction to the popular lexicon I have personally ever heard used in the context of rap songs, Debbie Matenopolous's fashion critiques on E!'s "The Daily 10", and sardonic jest:

Only white people and older black people say 'bling' now. If a white person uses slang too early, then that makes them look like a wigger. But if black people use slang too late, then it makes them look like a wigger.

Who the fuck appointed Kanye West an expert on racial trends in semantics? Nobody uses the word "bling" unless it's followed with a punch line and a guffaw. It might slip out of my mouth in an extremely sarcastic tone of voice, but I dare that arrogant, highly overrated Nautica polo shirt aficionado to call me a fucking wigger. In fact, I would argue that the word "wigger," given its racist derivations and lack of use now that Kevin Federline is for the most part out of the spotlight and no longer warranting snarky commentary on the blogosphere, is more outdated and inappropriate than "bling."

Besides, didn't he ever listen to the original Shirley Bassey song he sampled? Diamonds are forever, and so is any term that ANY person wishing to call them once it enters the vernacular. Like it or not, "bling" is here to stay in whatever form it is used, and Kanye needs to just keep his asinine, contradictory, self-involved opinions to himself if he doesn't want to make the entire fucking world completely hate his preppy ass. Please, God, inspire Fitty to devote a full song to busting on this fool on his upcoming album Curtis! Kanye needs to come down a notch or twelve, and nobody is better qualified for doing this than Curtis Jackson. I need to hear him say shit like "you got feminine ways...I heard you got four lips and bleed for seven days" about Kanye Christ, and the world needs it too.

Labels: 50 cent, assholes, crazies, Daily Douchebag, Dear God, overcompensation, rap