About Hillary, Barack and this election business

It’s only May and I’m weary of this Campaign ’08 business. I couldn’t even come up with a good title for this entry. I was trying to avoid having to really write anything about this whole President of the United States debacle because, well, we’re being bombarded by opinions and commentary from every angle. So I don’t want to engage in any in-depth political analysis. I don’t want to quote Hillary or Barack. I don’t want to link to other sites and blogs who are discussing this in a much more analytical fashion. I just want to write what’s on my mind. I warn you, there is rambling ahead. 

To begin with, I am offended by this Democratic primary bullshit. I am offended that people want to tell me who I ought to vote for because I am Black or because I am a woman. To even suggest that my decision making capability rests solely on which identity I choose to put first (Black Woman, Woman who is Black) is ludicrous. I hate that. I hate women who try to shame me into voting for Hillary. I hate Black people who look down upon those who aren’t sporting the latest Obama pin. Honestly, why must it be that simple? We ought to be much more complex than that. Neither women as a class nor Black folks are homogenous.

“… cuz I be touchin’ myself like I was T-Boz.” © Missy

So… remember when Left Eye challenged Chili & T-Boz to an album-off of sorts? She claimed that she could sell more records than the others. While I seriously doubted that (I won’t get into my hierarchy of TLC and their relative contributions, IMO), this video casts a shadow over Tionne’s prospects at winning that battle. 

I remember when this jawn came out. I didn’t pay attention to it then. It was hard for me to watch the whole video through today. T-Boz was always my favorite in the group. Back in the day, my girls Carmelita, Vernice and I would dance around in Vernice’s living room to Janet Jackson and TLC. When TLC came on, we’d adopt personalities of the women and sing their parts. I always HAD to be T-Boz. Still, my affinity for the blonde cut, cool persona and bass-laden voice can’t make me ignore the grating annoyance that is Touch Myself. 

First of all, WHY? What the fuck does that song have to do with the movie Fled? Then again, the rest of the tracklisting is wack as well, see

Secondly, where was the budget for the video? Shit looks like, well, shit. She’s dancing with herself dressed as a man. Maybe, in some stretch of someone’s imagination, TBoz dressed as a man is in keeping with the whole “touch myself” premise of the song. I dunno and don’t care. Hire an extra. Hire a set designer. For the love of God, hire a stylist.