No — it shouldn’t. Or maybe it should.
And yes — I’m idiotically petty and wrong for ignoring the “genius” in the music video — This Is America — in favor of a worn-out narrative about how Black men who try to convince us of the “prob-Black” stance — end up exposing something salaciously interesting.
It does matter that Donald Glover’s wife is a White woman because now that he’s being hailed as the “anti-Kanye” and the “rapper we need in a post-Kanye world” — the pressure is on for the Atlanta star and creator to rise to the occasion in an epic way.
This means getting back what you lost with Kanye — the moment he signed on to a long-term agreement with Kris Jenner — which always includes the scenes where he “loses his shit” in a ways — that make his victims tirelessly committed to the task of figuring out how to rescue the once inhumanly flawless Black man.
Glover’s impeccable coup that was staged with artistic fervor — is still giving stunned witnesses the required incentive to curate testimonies matching the vibrancy that heralded Beyonce’s Lemonade — and while I did participate in that parade — I have to wonder if I did it because I wanted to or because I had to.
I can’t lie that the exposure my piece granted me was definitely a career boost — thanks to appearances on radio shows — from Chicago to South Africa.
Actually — now that I think about it — my intentions were pure and not all buried in the secret desires of leaving the competition in the dust of the imminent fame — that grips the ceremony of viral baptism.
Lemonade resonated deeply in the layers of relational complexity when it comes to friendships with Black women from past and present — who I felt the need to celebrate in a massive way.
I wasn’t clinging to the “perfection” of Beyonce or dousing her with residue of my personal challenges — that sometimes takes on the form of adulation being weirdly draped on notables who can’t possibly live up to what we can’t even bear ourselves.
I just loved what she did and how she delivered the goods with the assurance of adherence to excellence — packaged in the love she’s never been too selfish to bestow.