Everything is Love is a Shadefest - A Review

I haven't memorized every lyric nor do I know the Carters well enough to know all the names they drop but still, after an (illegal) listen to the album, the only conclusion I can come to is that it's a shade fest.
First of all, let's start with Apeshit because I love it and there's a video out. To summarize for you what it says;
Fuck Trump
Fuck Spotify
Fuck the Grammys
Fuck the NFL
Fuck low concert prices
Fuck the haters
And fuck you too if you fuck with all those people.
In short.

Beyonce raps.
She's quite good at it even though I, personally, find her accent distracting.
Then there's Friends.
A nice politely juvenile song about how the Carter's friends are better than yours. This song not only shades Kanye but all of his friends too. I think there's a bit of Drake shade as well. I might be reading it wrong.
No new friends guys.
Nobody wants them.
If you don't' have old friends you're fucked.
Apparently, this guy (Kanye) who they're shading changes friends like halftime at the NBA. In short, a lot? I guess that fits with Kanye continuously cycling out team members and hanging out with people because of well, shall we say mutual dislike of Jay? Dame Dash comes to mind. But...not only do they shade Kanye but Kanye's friends too. What Chrissy and John do to them doh? Those are the only friends I know who are Kanye's real friends. Maybe they meant someone else?
The Kardashians?

Anyway, the shade doesn't stop there. They also shade themselves. There was some 'You really broke us' lyrics from Beyonce and...okay so Jay Z didn't shade her back as far as I can tell. So everyone but Beyonce got shaded.
Aside from that, it's some really good music. You can tell work went into it artistically. They also tried some new things and the visuals for Apesh**t are nothing short of stunning.
Of course, there's the usual fan obsession with the fact that JayZ cheated but if Beyonce is over it, why aren't you?
Probably because it's not about Jay but your own life?
Solve your problems.
Speaking of solving problems, I read this thread from a formerly abused woman, explaining why she stayed even after he did a lot of fucked up things. She explained that she felt alone and this guy made her relate to him and pledge her allegiance to him and she just clung to him because she didn't feel deserving of love.

Okay,  I see.
You stayed, you even begged him to take you back because you felt unworthy of love. But you loved him. And you wanted him to stay with you. I'm not hating. I just want you to see some of the lies we tell ourselves.
The truth is, that she was afraid of being alone. Because she ended with "I'm now in the most loving relationship I've ever been in."
Not "a loving relationship."
She felt the need to qualify.
Which tells me she's still bending over backward to be in a relationship because person B treats her better (maybe) than person A.
And that's the problem.
The focus is so much on the relationship and not personal growth. Jay and Bey are trying to show you personal growth and all you can see is wherever you are in your life. the cheating you're tolerating to 'be in a relationship.' Because God forbid you are ever alone.
Alone isn't the same as lonely.
How can you love and be loved if you don't love yourself? When Jay says black women saved him, he means they taught him what love is. Because he didn't know. You can't blame someone for something they didn't know. So black women saved him, doesn't mean YOU have to save whatever fuckboy you're dealing with. Save yourself first.
Always save. yourself. first.
I have work to do and a football match to watch. It's 1-1 Brazil vs. Switzerland so things just got thick again. Who are you rooting for?
When I said I was rooting for everybody black I didn't know that meant every team except Iceland.

Crossroad Blues

It’s been a Purple Rain sort of day; I think I listened to that song like twenty eight times.+Drake released his Views from the 6 finally today; on Apple Music. I haven’t listened to it, but the lyrics landed in my inbox via Genius so I did read it. Wasn’t really telling me anything I didn’t know. Him and Riri have a friends with benefits thing going on…they sing about it on every record they do. She booty calls him late at night. He wants their relationship to be more than that. She doesn’t have time for a relationship. He’ll wait. It’s practically been a mantra since 2014.

What else?

Oh yeah, the judge sealed Prince’s autopsy investigation so they don’t have to tell us so people are making up their own shit as to why he died. It annoys me because Prince doesn’t deserve that shit. Let him die as he lived.

Meanwhile speculation on who Becky with the Good Hair is, is still in high gear. Does she exist? Is she just one girl? Are Jay and Bey getting divorced? Usual story that circulates about once every before album launch. I don’t care. Though Karrine Steffans did write a starkly vulnerable article about how she’s Becky and Beyonce which impressed me with its honesty. You don’t usually get that level of bare chested, unfiltered information these days. Also why did it make me think Jay-Z is selfish in bed. I don’t know. Maybe because people who’ve had sex with him are always talking/singing about giving him blowjobs. No mention of returning the favor. And he’s not even that cute…

Well anyway, why I was writing is because I’m listening to all my sad songs today; I haven’t been able to since my daddy shuffled off the mortal coil. It’s been too hard; see I’m one of those people who run away from pain? I’m a consummate coward about it. If I think it’ll be too hard I deflect, I distract, I prevaricate, I fill that space with other things, till I feel like the danger is passed. So apparently Prince dying and me listening to Purple Rain on a loop means the danger is passed. I can now sit down and listen to my sad songs play list and let myself feel it. Feel loss, feel pain, feel angry and sad and wistful and nostalgic. And feel like I’ll come out the other side without it killing me. I always feel like I might not survive emotional pain when it’s too fresh. But now, I can bask in it, while Purple Rain plays in the background and fully appreciate Prince’s prowess on a guitar, sing it out loud; and get through this valley of the shadow of death…

It feels very appropriate that it’s rainy as fuck.

Becky With The Good Hair: An Adaptation

DISCLAIMER: The characters depicted in this story do not belong to me. They are real people who belong to themselves. I am not making any money from this story. It's written purely for enjoyment.

Beyonce glided into the breakfast room in her peach lingerie and rabbit slippers, stopping momentarily as she saw that Shawn was already there.

“Good morning honey in the sunshine”, he said without looking up from his iPad.

“Good morning my sun and stars”, she replied, her voice low and throaty like honey over oatmeal, “And how did you sleep?”

Shawn smiled, “Very well”, he said, “This new memory foam is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Beyonce smiled, “Better than the weed inhalers?” she asked with a lift of one brow.

Shawn’s smile widened, “Okay, it’s in the top five good ideas. And you my honey in the sunshine? Did you sleep well?”

“No oga”, she replied with a sigh.

Shawn put his iPad aside, “Why?” he asked as he leaned forward, all his attention on her.

“I consulted the loa”, she said her voice low and heavy.

“You did? why?”

Beyonce gave him a look like he should absolutely know, “What was the last award I received?” she asked.

Shawn leaned back in his throne, nodding in understanding, “So? What did the loa tell you?”

“Well first thing, it has been a while since you offered libation. Do not forget to offer some honey rum and chocolate”, she said with an inclination of her head toward Papa Legba’s altar.

“I’ll do it right after breakfast.”

“You better, otherwise he might require blood sacrifice the next time you need something.”

“Okay but tell me what the loa told you that caused you to lose sleep.”

Beyonce sighed, “It’s about my next album”, she said reluctantly.

“Oh? What about it?”

“Something gonna have to happen before I can release it.”

“And what is that honey in the sunshine?”

“You go have to cheat on me oga”, she said.

“I beg pardon?”

“Yes. You have to cheat on me Shawn. Otherwise I won’t be able to make my next album.”

“But…Bee. The baby? What will she think if she find out later? What will everybody think?”

“Mschew! Oga you question the loa?” she demanded, half standing from her throne.

“No of course not. The loa is always right. But who will I cheat with?”

“Shawn I am very sure you have at least five hundred numbers in a little black book somewhere you can call.”

“Honey in the sunshine, I burnt that book the day you agreed to be mine.”

Beyonce let out a peal of laughter that echoed off the high ceilings. Her thin unlipsticked lips were stretched in a wide smile showing her small perfect white even teeth.

“You are funny my sun and stars. Dig out your black book. Pick a number.”

The smile disappeared from her face, and her expression was serious and uncompromising. Before Shawn could say anything else, the clear loud crystalline voice of their daughter rent the air, singing one of her favorite songs; whip my hurr.

Blue ran into the breakfast room and straight into her father’s arms.

“Hi daddy. Can we go to the zoo today?”

“Not today honey. Uncle Kanye and I are going to a boring boring meeting. After that, daddy will come get you from school and we can go get ice cream. How about that?”

Blue Ivy’s face fell, “Okay. Though auntie Gwyneth said ice cream is bad for you.”

Shawn and Beyonce exchanged glances and Shawn barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, “Do you not want ice cream then?” he asked.

“No! I want ice cream.”

“Good. Then we’ll go get some. And we’ll keep it secret from Auntie Gwyneth.”

“Okay papa. Love you.”

“Love you too Code Blue.”

Beyonce lifted up the juice jug, condensation forming where it widened from the narrow mouth, “Lemonade anyone?” she asked.

Deeply Wailing; Deeply Waaaiiiilliingg

The grim reaper has been busy as fuck this week. It's not okay anymore. The Angel of Death has to be stopped. Like seriously, someone get him. Sam? Dean? Where are you when we need you?

My Brother's Keeper: Supernatural season 10 finale

First of all, I was taking a break from my phone, deciding to read a story and not religiously check my messages and such when +Prince Rogers Nelson died.

Yeah.
Prince is dead.
Now if you had asked me last week how I would feel if Prince died I would have said, "Eh, it would be a loss; like Michael you know? In that abstract way that the maker of great music is gone. A tragedy but at least we'll always have the music."
It wasn't like that.

It was more like an elephant sat on my chest and refused to leave. My heart was heavy and I watched CNN until 3am and cried. All these days later, it's still not okay in spite of all the other people who have died as well. What makes it worse is that living with a sixteen year old; he doesn't really appreciate the enormity of my loss. He's so okay with Prince being dead that I want to smack him upside the head. I'm still in mourning. I am not responsible for my words.

Prince Nelson Rogers

For me, that was the big loss of the week, but the very next day, my brother in law lost his cousin to leukaemia. He was a nice guy; the nicest. The morning after my dad's death, he was right there with us in the hospital. He was very supportive of his family, and by extension, of us and I know that wherever he's gone, it's a good place. Because he was good people.
The next day after that, guess who died, while on stage. Yes. +PAPA WEMBA. I liked that man and his techno soukous. So danceable. My sister reminded me of a concert we went to when he was here in Kenya too many years ago to count. He just collapsed on stage and died. In umm that movie where +Brad Pitt was one of three brothers who slept with his brother's wife while he was away at war...can't remember what it was called but it was horrible; it left me with a bad taste in my mouth. (the story that is). well anyway, at the end, Brad Pitt's character died in the wilderness while fighting with a bear (but not like Leo did) and the narrator who was a native American said 'It was a good death' and that's how it ended. Ever since then, I've been using that expression in my mind if a death doesn't feel so traumatic or tragic. Like my dad's death was a 'good death' because he died on his terms, said goodbye to almost all his family, he was ready. I think Papa Wemba's death too, was a good death. He died doing what he loved. He was happy. Then he lay down and died.

Papa Wemba

Also shuffling off this mortal coil this week was former first lady of Kenya Lucy Kibaki. Now all I can really remember about this...er lady was her tendency to be mad as the hatter. However since all the best people are bonkers anyway, that's a good thing right? I see people really trying to come up with words to describe her on twitter and it really makes me tired. Why can't we just be real about who people were just because they're dead? I was just having this argument today with my son about eulogising me (way way way in the future) as perfect when we both know I'm far from that.

Lucy Kibaki

You didn't think I was gonna just go without talking about #Lemonade did you? I mean I'm no fan of +Beyoncé but I do enjoy the occasional non-shrill song from her. I'm not anti (no pun intended) just her whole Ms. Perfect thing turns me off. Well anyway, so Lemonade...while people were freaking out about Jay-Z maybe possibly cheating on his wife, I'm wondering what 'good hair' looks like to someone like Beyonce. 

Beyonce

I mean obviously it's some caucasian looking shit or something like that judging by the light skin worship that seems to permeate any hint of praise given to her or any celebrity really. "Good Hair" was supposed to be something that gave black people an advantage over their darker skinned, nappy haired counterparts. But that was supposed to be during slavery. Two hundred years ago. How are still here? And by 'we' I mean 'you' because I've never really been indoctrinated into the good hair-bad hair paradigm. Have I? Someone who's known me since I was young should say, not me. The other thing that bothered me is the response by various men to this album. 

The anger.

Men were taking it all extremely personally. You'd think Beyonce was singing to them. And I had to ask myself, 'Self? Why are they so angry?' And I replied to myself, 'Because...I got nothin'
Why are you so mad anyway? Do you even have a reason?

Well anyway, seeing as I'm still in mourning, I'll let you guys opine your opinions if you wish. Goodnight.