As the escalation and intensity highlighting the vast rift in the extremes of the American mentality–divided into, if we’re being as reductive as possible, somewhat open-minded and everyone else–the grotesque flare-ups of rage for one side not being able to understand the worldview of the other has manifested in the form of the uncontrollable urge of celebrities commenting on other celebrities’ politically charged bullshit. Or, to be more specific, Lana Del Rey being unable to contain her anger over someone in a high-profile position–and yes, as a black man, to boot–promoting the idiotology of The Orange One. Or, as Azealia Banks refuses to directly acknowledge him, “45” (even though she did claim to vote for him in 2016–though not for quite the same reasons of enthusiasm for his policy that Kanye has).
The offender in question, once more, was Kanye West, who was clearly body snatched a long time ago, likely around some time his “friendship” with Kim Kardashian conveniently transformed into a “relationship.” Broadcasting yet another picture of himself in a “Make America Great Again” hat, West ruffled feathers with the caption, “This represents good and America becoming whole again. We will no longer outsource to other countries. We build factories here in America and create jobs. We will provide jobs for all who are free from prisons as we abolish the 13th amendment. Message sent with love.”
While everything that mentally disturbed people (whether bipolar, narcissist, what have you) should be taken with a hefty grain of salt, West’s seemingly genuine belief in his conviction (before he gets distracted by a butterfly in the form of releasing another clothing line inspired by the homeless person’s aesthetic) prompted “white feminist” (because when we put white in front of feminist or woman–or anything really–it degrades it quite effectively) Lana Del Rey to comment on West’s latest delusion. And it went something like this:
Trump becoming our president was a loss for the country but your support of him is a loss for the culture. I can only assume you relate to his personality on some level. Delusions of grandeur, extreme issues with narcissism—none of which would be a talking point if we weren’t speaking about the man leading our country. If you think it’s alright to support someone who believes it’s OK to grab a woman by the pussy just because he’s famous then you need an intervention as much as he does— something so many narcissists will never get because there just isn’t enough help for the issue. Message sent with concern that will never be addressed.
Del Rey’s terse, matter-of-fact laying into Kanye was applauded by most of her liberal fanbase and famous coterie of friends and acquaintances, who likely feel that, considering this is the woman who claimed to have performed “Young and Beautiful” for free (don’t get Lana started on the accusation that it wasn’t) at Kim and Kanye’s wedding back in 2014, it took an especial amount of gumption to stand up to his ignorant assertions. The trouble is, of course, that all people of this bent are ultimately seeking with their “outlandish” behavior is the attention that gives them the life force to keep going, persisting in their life’s purpose to be toto fuckwads.
Enter Azealia Banks, who, like Kanye, thrives on media shitstorms as a source of vitality, weighing in on Lana’s shallow try at being political by raging, “Don’t use Kanye for your own vapid attempts to seem politically aware when there is so much more bootleg witchcraft you could be doing to try and take down 45. Kanye is not your enemy or the enemy. In fact your selective outrage makes you the enemy. You approve of ASAP Rocky because his victims weren’t white. You’re exactly the kind of thought police Kanye is fighting against.” Ah yes, Kanye West, a true freedom fighter–a real “beautiful mind.”
Banks, who seems to have a fetish for triangulating herself (see: Elon Musk and Grimes), as usual, offers up some kernels of veracity before digressing to the point where she negates all the truth she spoke upon with her ranting mode, eventually turning on Kanye himself for “lifting [her] ideas.” But before that, however, Banks brings up an argument that has increasingly been bubbling to the surface between women of ethnicities far more marginalized than those of the “poor” white girl (whose plight is never taken seriously, so much as used for pop culture cannon fodder) variety. That argument being the vexatious need Caucasian females have to insert themselves into political matters they have no genuine knowledge of for the sole sake of appearing apart of a trend or zeitgeist (you know, like when Lindsay Lohan was for some reason involved in a project called Lindsay Lohan’s Indian Journey for the BBC). Thus, Banks balked and barked, “I’m tired of white women in Hollywood and their fake ass innocent agendas. These bitches will take any opportunity to make themselves seem more righteous in regards to black men who don’t bow down to their vapid ‘social power’ or more civilized and respectable than the black women that have a REAL reason to be angry.”
There that uncomfortable need to accent disparity is, that goading philosophy that will find the white woman likely sooner to take a full-fledged topple even than the white man (who, let’s be honest, deserves the check mate far more–he doesn’t even beautify or entertain the world with his vapidity the way the white woman does, after all–could a white man bring you The Simple Life or “Stars Are Blind”? I don’t fucking think so). Said philosophy being, in essence, “You’ll never know my level of suffering, therefore shut the fuck up or I’ll punch you in the face for even trying to pretend to know what true pain is.” Yes, it all serves to underscore the timelessness of the phrase, “Misery loves company.” This is often why it is only white trash women like Tonya Harding who are able to hold their own with the, shall we say, “non-dainty.” And why they are ultimately allowed the concession of being glorified for their worse than Vivian Ward-level discrimination with the passage of enough time, just as it must be for black women’s vindication decades after the fact (see: Hidden Figures). White women of the privileged background from which Lizzy Grant hails, however, do not get the “right” to speak on matters of evil, oppression and a general threat to the welfare of a once great nation (once great at least in terms of offering us a more fuckable Commander-in-Chief). What could they possibly know about it? the marginalized demand to know when a gringa sticks her nose in and makes matters magically worse in trying to help (also see: Crazy/Beautiful, Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights).
So sure, maybe white women like Lana Del Rey do comment on things from a “naive” place as a result of their inability to comprehend that which people with a “high risk” skin color have to endure each and every day. People who are never associated with having oodles of cash at their disposal, therefore always looked upon as though they shouldn’t be somewhere (unless it’s Starbucks, the only egalitarian space these days). The white woman, conversely, is free to move about the cabin, so to speak. That is, unless of course, she has a hankering to go to the Middle East and inevitably causes even more offense for her shallow existence the same way the narrative of Sex and the City 2 showcases.
Even white women who have taken the spotlight for the #MeToo movement are sources of contempt for those whose stories are not deemed to be as “valuable” (a.k.a. mainstream media can barely handle talking about a legion of white women getting raped without holding too much of a political hot potato–to bring black women, Hispanic women, trans women and any woman in between into it is something the U.S. simply can’t “process” yet).
The white woman backlash, thus, is a-brewin’ with the same ferocity that has seen the white man lose so much of his cachet (all while still somehow sustaining his unchecked power). The only difference is, one imagines, the white woman will actually get burned at the stake, whereas, once again the white man will miraculously “sidestep” consequence, rather with the same adeptness as Charles Durning in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.
