I had never said anything nice about Beyonce until yesterday. I respected her talents, but I really had never been provoked to comment. However, her whole move with the album and the quality of its content moved me to praise her publicly on Jezebel yesterday, which is when all hell broke loose.
I logged in this morning to a mind-blowing array of haterade for Beyonce in response to my comments.
Christmas, my friends, has come early for me. Truly, people who spend their lives spewing not criticism or commentary but plain old nasty bullshit about female performers on the internet are my little miracles.
Responding to these comments is like squeezing blackheads. I know it makes the whole situation worse, but it's oddly satisfying and plus, don't you want to know what's inside that mess?
Let's clear something up here.
The male gaze exists. If you're a woman, and your self-concept is contingent on the male gaze, you have only two options: base your entire self-concept on foiling the male gaze by hiding your body, or base your whole self-concept on pleasing and complying with the male gaze. It's a lose-lose scenario unless you take control of your own identity and decide how YOU want to look. If a woman takes full control of her identity and she chooses booty shorts, that's as meaningful as if she chooses a nun's habit. She's saying, "I am who I am."
So many of these commenters just don't respect that a woman can decide how she presents herself.
My favorite person was the person who didn't know how to use the word "patriarchy" (her definition seems to be like a secret evil football team of men, not really sure still). I also really appreciate the person who was REALLY, REALLY concerned that Beyonce has sold out and is now providing mindless titillation for the masses UNLIKE BEFORE WHEN SHE WAS FAMOUS FOR BEING THE POPE. (Pictured: Beyonce and two of her cardinals.)
Bless their pointy little heads.