But seriously — and I’m still on vacation here, so this will be only partially thought-out —- the thing that gives the birth control discussion legs is that it’s a broad coalition of forces: It’s the people should not be able to fuck without permission squad that also wants to shove probes up the vaginas of anyone who needs an abortion to teach them a lesson; but it’s also the we hate health care in all its forms, so birth control is as good a place start as any crowd; furthermore, the debate that went “if a bunch of shitty Catholic bishops think that people should be able to cite moral concerns as a reason why they should be exempt from certain tax laws, why the fuck have we been paying for an illegal war that so many on our side oppose” actually plays into the hands of the anti-tax fundamentalists who are on board with this because they want everybody to insist that taxes are unfair.

Basically, you have three different interest-groups: the fiercely anti-sex/anti-woman hate brigade, the anti-Obama types who want to undo anything he’s done, and the Norquistian anti-taxers who like the idea that people on the left are suddenly receptive to the argument that people maybe ought to be able to opt out of taxes to fund things they disagree with, since those people disagree with every tax for everything.

Add all that up, and you have three different ways of looking at a situation that is a lot more complicated — and thus scary! — than just the birth control basics. Restricting access to birth control may be a losing issue with a public that overwhelmingly benefits from its existence, but if you can muddy it up with “we’re really doing this to roll back SOCIALISM” and “you hate paying taxes, right” then it’s part of a broadening coalition.

That is what the GOP has been for years, and it’s the way that the Christian nutjobs and the Tea Party hardliners can find common ground. Whether you oppose birth control because you want to dismantle Obamacare piece-by-piece; because you want everyone who has sex to suffer for the unsanctioned pleasure they’re enjoying, there’s a place for you at the party; or because you’re trying to further an anti-tax argument by getting more people to endorse your rhetoric, there’s a place for you at this party.

I’m Not Okay with Chris Brown Performing at the Grammys and I’m Not Sure Why You Are →

Later in February, a photo of Brown riding a jet ski in Miami hit the Internet, and singer Usher was caught on video commenting on it: “I’m a little disappointed in this photo,” Usher says in the video. “After the other photo [of Rihanna’s bruised face]? C’mon, Chris. Have a little bit of remorse, man. The man’s on jet skis? Like, just relaxing in Miami?”

The backlash was so severe that Usher was later forced to publicly apologize.

“I apologize on behalf of myself and my friends if anyone was offended,” he said. “The intentions were not to pass judgment and we meant no harm. I respect and wish the best for all parties involved.”

Yeah, go read this link immediately.

There’s a weird thing going on here. It’s something we do in our culture that I have observed mostly in regard to football, but it’s the exact same principle at work here: We are so hungry for redemption stories, and so primed to find reasons within the narrative to offer redemption, that we equate “success” with “atonement.”

In football, this plays out with the idea that a guy like Ben Roethlisberger could have “redeemed” himself after a pair of credible rape accusations by winning the Super Bowl last year; the way that Mike Vick became endorsement-friendly because he had a great 2010 season. Because in the movie version of these events, the injustice that these people who we are not ready to forgive could go on to win — that good things could happen to bad people — is unfathomable. And because we want the narratives in real life to follow those we require from our stories, we have to assume that Roethlisberger winning the Super Bowl would prove that he’d done something, found some inner peace and transformed his life, to succeed.

Or, to bring it back to Chris Brown: The fact that his music is hot means that he can’t be that bad, right? The idea that this dude would beat up his girlfriend, be totally unrepentant about it, act like he’s the victim for people being mad at him, make the best record of his career, and be embraced by the mainstream once again — that has to mean that he’s redeemed himself. Because if not, then we’re all kind of shitty for playing “Look At Me Now” on repeat; and where does the magic to do great things come from, if not some inner reserves of strength that we find because we’ve learned from our mistakes?

So Chris Brown has earned forgiveness because he sold a shitload of records and got Busta Rhymes and Lil Wayne to drop some of the best verses in their storied careers on a hot single. “Success” — at the ballot box, in the ratings, on the charts, on the court or the gridiron, wherever — is valued so highly that it carries “redemption” as a freebie.

The Battles Of G-Baby →

I have a story in the new issue of the Texas Observer. It’s the first in the magazine’s new monthly format, which is exciting — previously, the magazine ran bi-weekly, so this one will be on stands for twice as long.

The story is about Whitney Perkins, who raps under the name G-Baby. I first met Whitney when I was sitting in on a performance/sharing at Travis County Correctional Complex — Kat teaches theater classes to women incarcerated there, and she invited me to see their end-of-term project. Whitney was definitely the most charismatic performer that day, but I was still very surprised to see her retire a 5-time champion on 106 & Park’s Freestyle Friday a few months later.

The article is about battle rap, and sexism and homophobia in hip hop, and Whitney’s completely indomitable spirit. I’m pretty proud of how this one came out — give it a read, will you?

A challenge for music writer friends!

Every time you file a story about Odd Future and whether we should take them seriously and the conflict you feel about the fact that Tyler is so good but so awful at the same time, and how great art can be destructive and reprehensible but probably still great — let’s also be sure to file a story about a woman or a gay person who makes music, too, cool?

Because if all of the energy we spent blogging about and contemplating Odd Future and the meaning of misogyny and homophobia in art was matched by energy championing the people who are marginalized by those things, then our hand-wringing has the potential to be about changing them, at least to some extent, instead of just growing this kid’s influence by making him the only thing people want to talk about.

I’ll play if you will. What do y’all say?

Common and Childish Gambino and Karl Rove and me.

“Yes, let’s invite a misogynist to the White House.”

— Karl Rove on Common’s appearance at the White House poetry event.

This has all been super weird. I don’t believe for a second that any of the conservative outrage regarding Common has come from anyone who’s even dimly aware of Common’s recording career. I am fairly certain that anyone who’s outraged by the fact that “a misogynist” was invited to the White House (like Common is the first one EVER to get that phone call!) got a context-free crash-course in Common’s lyrics over the past week, at best, and is just making assumptions because he’s a rapper, more likely. If people are going to whine about “the race” card when they’re called out for describing Common as “a thug,” then it’s really, really clear that it’s just an attempt to silence people, because the real racism is pointing out racism. “Oh, I hadn’t even noticed he was black when I said that!”

That said: I kinda agree with Karl Rove a little bit here. Which is weird! But so much of the outrage-to-the-outrage has revolved around the fact that this is Common! He’s one of the good guys! And I get it — socially-aware hip hop fans have pointed to Common as a shining star for over a decade. I mean, I’m talking about myself there — I used to love H.I.M. I quoted the dude in my wedding vows. But this kerfuffle has reminded me of something I’ve been putting off writing about for a while now, at least since I interviewed Donald Glover a couple months ago. 

Which is: I think it’s actually worse for me when someone who’s thoughtful and insightful and expresses viewpoints I relate to starts dropping thin misogyny than when it’s over-the-top, Nate Dogg or Odd Future shit. That’s a thing that really bothers me about Glover — as a comedian, he says a lot of things that I think are insightful and perceptive and challenging. As a rapper, meanwhile, he says a lot of shit like “cumming on her face” and “fuck a bitch to pass the time” and “I’m a rapist!”

So when I got the chance to talk to him in March, I asked him about it. His answer wasn’t really satisfying — basically, he got kind of defensive and made excuses, and then his publicist pulled him away because he had to shoot a video thing, and when I asked a follow-up after he came back, he took the question in another direction (incidentally, he talked about his defensiveness about being called “faggot,” where he was once more thoughtful and making decent points). I’m never quite clear, with entertainment journalism, how much you’re supposed to poke these issues. I know that I am very interested in Donald Glover’s misogynistic lyrics, but I don’t think my editors particularly want an interview that’s 1500 words of me trying to get him to admit that he’s full of shit. Furthermore, he’s not on camera — he can always blow me off if he doesn’t like the questions. So in this case, I took the fact that he didn’t really engage with the questions to mean that I needed to move on to something else. Which means I never got at what bothers me, which is this: When you have a guy who has obviously given some real thought to the social forces at work behind gender issues — one of the “good guys” — and then he starts dropping this sort of casual misogyny, he’s saying some ugly things about the concept of being a responsible dude. He’s saying, A, that it’s a part-time job, and B, that at the end of the day, it’s still totally cool to cut loose and go on about all the bitches you want to fuck.

I’m not a prude. I recognize that Glover is a single dude in his 20’s who is suddenly rich and famous and who is rapping about his life. I don’t think that there’s anything inherently wrong about rapping about horniness — when he drops his line about how he wants to “fuck small girls / minus SM / meaning fuck all girls,” I’m not sure he’s doing anything besides honestly talking about himself. It’s the “fuck a bitch to pass the time” shit, where he’s so obviously posturing in a way that’s actually dishonest that bothers me. Because if you’re a thoughtful, insightful dude who’s socially conscious and who talks about women respectfully, you gotta drop a no homo in there somehow, right?

And I don’t think that was ever more clear to me than on Common’s verse on “Make Her Say” by Kid Cudi. The song is awful — I love Cudi’s first record, but that’s not a highlight of it, with a lazy, obviously lying-around Kanye beat and sleepy rapping from Common, Kanye, and Cudi — built around the fact that the words “poker face” sound like the words “poke her face.” Like with your dick!

But Common’s verse is offensive even within offensiveness. Because he is so quick to dismiss everything that made people like him to express this shit. “They say, ‘you be on that conscious tip,’” he raps, “Get your hair right and get up on this conscious dick!” And — man! What a bummer. Because that’s the point he’s making, expressly and explicitly — just because he’s got a reputation as a socially conscious guy, that doesn’t mean he’s not willing to treat women like total shit. Haha, poke her face! Because it’s not about horniness — it’s about violence.

And so when Karl fucking Rove starts talking about how wrong it is to invite a misogynist to the White House — because lord knows we’ve never done that before! — I want to be able to point to the guy who wrote “The Light” and “I Used To Love H.E.R.” and say that he’s obviously full of shit. But I can’t, because even the leading example of what a progressive, conscious rapper is can be accurately characterized with that word. And I fucking hate agreeing with Karl Rove.