Okay, let’s get Madonna out of the way (as if we could!) Why can’t she see what we see? Where are the loved ones who care enough to caution her about her face? I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to be pitied or laughed at. Right? But her surprise appearance revealed a gigantic blowfish of a face, with crazy milkmaid braids and a slit skirt revealing a stocky old leg in fishnet stockings. At one point, she even snapped at the audience, “You’re supposed to applaud here.” Let’s hope she doesn’t trouble us again until 2024.

It was a suspenseful showdown between Beyonce, Harry Styles, and Adele for Best Something. Album, record, I can’t remember. Bey won two awards, breaking a record for Grammys won, and she gave a humble speech with gratitude to god and her parents. Her dress was awful but at least not see-through this time. If I note that her boobs have grown with her fame, people will be mad at me, so I won’t do that.

Harry Styles performed in a tinsel shroud, and looked genuinely shocked when he won the award that Beyonce wanted.

Adele won an award for “Go Easy on Me” and thanked her son (I think.) She was thinner than ever and had an adorable fangirl meeting with The Rock, who looked like a massive Oscar Award.

That stupid Steve Lacey performed his hit song that made one wonder anew at his popularity. He has zero charisma, can barely sing, and looks like he just woke up.

Brandy Carlile pretended to be a rockstar but worse, she was introduced by her wife and kids, in a nod to LGBTQ inclusivity. No heterosexual artist was moved to display his/her spouse. She sometimes wears cool suits, but not this time.

Stevie Wonder was fantastic, performing a raucous “Higher Ground” to the delight of the black people in the audience. Can we stop letting white people attend the Grammys? They can’t even clap on the right beat.

Speaking of white people, Taylor Swift, the whitest person on earth, wore a a boring sequin two piece outfit that Bob Mackie wouldn’t give the time of day to. As always, she insisted on “dancing” in the audience, to show that she is just a fun girl after all. She didn’t perform or present anything, a huge win for me personally.

Lizzo was her usual vivacious self, performing with a bunch of huge back-up women and exuding a joy that is hard to resist, even for me. I still think she is way too fat because I’m not blind and there is such a thing as too thin and too fat.

Also fat, but horribly full of himself was the new Sam Smith 2.0. Recreating himself as a sex-crazed diva, he arrived with a crew of gender fluid creatures dressed in blood red gowns with weird vampire makeup. His performance was deeply disturbing. He is no Lil Nas X, alright? I officially never want anything to do with him.

Best new artist went to Samira Joy, a woman with a beautiful voice who I plan to learn more about. Yay for beautiful voices!

A salute to 50 years of Hip Hop was mostly great, even though I’m too lame to know most of the artists. At least they seemed authentic and in the moment when they performed.

What else? J Lo and Ben sat near she stage, so we were treated to his dour expression and her attempts to look like she was enjoying herself. Lose him, J Lo. It’s going to be exhausting to keep his spirits up.

As for fashion, Tems (above) looked gorgeous in Vivienne Westwood, Cardi B looked great in a blue avant garde ensemble, Pharrell Williams was pimpin hot in red leather and fur, Laverne Cox looked amazing in black and gold faux-croc, Miguel, who is actually really talented, wore an awful faded denim get up, and even though I can’t stand her, Doja Cat wore a great black latex gown with matching gloves.

There was a big finale featuring a bunch of rap artists sitting at huge table piled with a million pounds of fruit. Jay-Z rapped furiously about either god or himself, I couldn’t tell, but it seemed good. DJ Khaled ruins everything but not this.

Okay? Sorry it was so blah but it’s not my fault! let me know if I forgot anything.

Oh god, Will and Jada Smith, just go away. Boo hoo about Jada’s hair loss! Let her deal with osteoporosis, which I am blessed with, and my husband doesn’t need to slap anyone. Let her and her whole crazy family shut up about their personal dramas! Who gives a shit? Best performance of Toxic Masculinity by a big baby. Thank you, next.

Okay, back to business.

Aren’t you relived that Nicole Kidman didn’t win?? Her dress with that donut-peplum thing was awful, and she needs to start eating. Jessica Chastain seemed like a nice person, didn’t she? Her dress looked like a Disney cartoon princess, which was kind of poignant, but really the best thing about her is that her adorable nose is the result of plastic surgery.Yay! I saw the original nose somewhere on Instagram.

Megan Thee Stallion was a “nice” surprise, just like, or rather not anything like, Liza Minnelli. All the red dresses cancelled each other out, didn’t they? The only good one was the trouser outfit worn by the joyfully queer Ariana DeBose. Black dresses were in short supply for some reason, but Billie Eilish‘s dress was a monstrosity by any standards. Good for her! She likes to get a reaction and I hope she’s satisfied with EW! and WHY??

Maggie Gyllenhaal wore a black Schiaparelli that looked like a chest of drawers, the better to shield Jake from questions about Taylor’s scarf.

Kristen Stewart was super hot in her shorts and unbuttoned shirt, let’s admit it. Her bad-girl thing is still going strong and I want it to never stop. Likewise, boy-toy Timothee Chalamet was fetching in his Luis Vuitton women’s jacket and bare chest. What a darling little person he is. I also loved Wesley Snipes in a nutty, Pimptastic satin shorts suit with matching leggings.

Best outfit for my money was a floral suit worn by Encanto director Byron Howard. It was so wonderful! Where is the fuss about it??? Who made it? Can I borrow it? I’m still looking for pictures and info. Second best was an amazing dress printed with Renaissance angels, worn by Eva von Bahr, along with a Greek bust handbag.

WAIT, I almost forgot to mention Beyonce! Her musical number was a baffling Busby Berkley type extravaganza with a million women all wearing yellow-green dresses that did not distract from the song’s essential nothingness. I kept wondering how many starving people could have been fed with the money that went into this enterprise. Come @ me, Black women, I know it’s a racist sin to not appreciate Bey, and I’ve already heard from several irate nutcases on this subject.

In fact, I’d like to see Beyonce slap Jada, or vice versa, in keeping with the new Twitter game of imagining offbeat slapping scenarios.

Who would you like to see slapped, and by whom? Weigh in! And what did I leave out?

People who have criticized Beyonce have been subjected to the wrath of her fans and the loss of their jobs. Some have endured death threats. It is clearly not acceptable to dislike Beyonce, lest the Beyhive come after you or your family.

Personally, I would never speak against her. But let’s say there was something you didn’t like about Beyonce. Let’s say you thought her talent was overrated. Let’s say you wished she would sing the damn song instead of riffing on each note for twenty minutes?

Let’s say you were tired of the fans blowing her hair extensions, I mean hair? Or let’s say her entire manner bothered you, her stance of “Can you believe how incredible I am?” Maybe you think she takes divahood to a staggering new level, making Barbra Streisand look humble in comparison? Or let’s say you thought her stage outfits were trashy and ridiculous, and not in a good way?

You’d probably be in big trouble. You would be flying in the face of all that is sacred and most damning, you’d be accused of racism. To criticize Beyonce is to disrespect the Black community. It would be tantamount to waving a Confederate flag. Why? Don’t ask me, I’m just here to pose philosophical questions.

But I skimmed through an essay called Why Beyonce Matters and learned this:

There is little doubt that Beyoncé’s recent work is seismic in terms of its representations of black racial identity and feminism. Here is one of, if not the, highest paid female performers in the world grappling with issues of misogyny, sexuality, infidelity, black feminism and self affirmation in ways that have never been seen in the mainstream music industry.

Beyoncé has opened a discourse that explores the place of famous women as agents of both political and monetary prowess. That in itself is worthy of respect.

Here’s an article on why her performance at Coachella was an Important Cultural Moment. It’s like she’s Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., and Harriet Tubman, all squished into a sparkly leotard!

What if you watched her onstage at the Global Citizen/Nelson Mandela concert last week, and you searched your brain for a word that summed up your reaction to her regal deportment, and you thought, “INSUFFERABLE!”

You’d have to keep it to yourself, I know that much. If you even tried to defend yourself by whining, But I love Rihanna!, you would only dig yourself in deeper. Either give Bey your fealty, or suffer the consequences, you fucking closet neo-Nazi.

The real story is Adele vs Beyonce but first let’s get the other stuff out of the way for those who missed the show.

Chance the Rapper won Best New Artist and he seems well-loved by everyone. I don’t get him, but he loves the Lord, like A LOT.

Ed Sheeran is a mess. He’s got to go away and rethink his career. His song that goes something about “your body, your body” is more upsetting even than Your Body Is A Wonderland. Leave the body alone, you guys.

Alicia Keys sported a glorious huge fluffy Afro but did a duet with some lame pseudo-Country girl who wore a cape over a leotard like circus ring leader.

Keith Urban provided a bathroom break for me and my peers.

Michael Jackson’s daughter was so pretty and nervous. Props to her for being able to function at all.  She tried to get political, as did Katy Perry, who is now blonde. Katy’s tits were outstanding and looked as good as new!

The Weekend sang a dumb ballad about making someone come. Look, The Weekend and Ed Sheeran, I hate to break it to you but we ladies expect to come or you’re gonna die trying, okay? Don’t act like you deserve an award for being into it.

Lady Gaga joined Metallica, morphing into a head-banger and annoying both James Hetfield and the drummer.

Then there was a Bee Gees tribute that was truly appalling even by Grammy standards. Demi Lovato left rehab for this travesty, joining Tory Kelly to screech along with some old white guy while the only living Bee Gee mouthed the words from the audience.

Morris Day and The Time tore it up with their Prince tribute. Bruno Mars gave his all to Let’s Go Crazy but he reaffirmed the sad fact that the likes of Prince will never be equaled in this world or any other. Bruno, you’re a hottie and we love you for trying.

Now, Beyonce.

What can one say that won’t get one killed? She appeared briefly in near nakedness, then reappeared in a gossamer gown that accentuated her pregnancy. She portrayed Mother Earth, a Fertility Goddess, the Universal Daughter and the Patron Saint of little girls, while performing a poetry-slam and sitting on a throne as though ready to push those twins out before our dazzled eyes.

I haven’t seen a human being so in love with their own self since the advent of Madonna. The camera lingered on her husband and child, to complete the holy trinity. It was a jaw-dropping exercise in self-importance, but if it works for you, good.

Adele sang a heartfelt tribute to George Michael, with customary grace and conviction.  The standing ovation made her eyes tear up. Even Riri was moved. But when Adele won her first award of the night, Beyonce must’ve been rattled.

When Adele beat out Beyonce for Album of the Year, it was a shocker. How dare she steal this from Bey, who’s been lauded all year for Lemonade, and for being a game changer as a black role model. It was supposed to be Bey’s night! She came to be worshiped, not to lose.

But then! Adele said that the award belonged to Beyonce, calling her ‘the artist of my life,’ and an inspiration for 17 years. She spoke directly to Bey in the front row, and in the end, Beyonce was free to cry, whether from disappointment or gratitude we’ll never know. Beyonce mouthed “I love you, I love you!” to Adele, who later broke the award in half.

What a moment. But Adele made the mistake of saying how much Bey’s album had empowered her “black friends,” so now Black Twitter is offended. Why is it racist for Adele to win and to know she’s not black?

Never mind, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Let us just be thankful that we were spared the horror of Taylor Swift, and that’s something we call all feel good about.

It was a night of big thighs and vigorous twerking, with white “artists” scoring a perfect zero.

Kanye provided the obligatory dis to Taylor Swift in a short but obnoxious tribute to himself.

Taylor is a bad sport, so in the absence of nominations she was a no-show, which was a relief.

But even without Taylor, it was a painfully tedious and mostly stupid affair. punctuated by FOUR exciting performances by my fiance, Rihanna.

Riri showed off her versatility as a singer and fashion icon, on point throughout  She is nothing but good. She is a goddess,  she is gangsta, she designs great shoes, and as a bonus, she doesn’t pretend to be a feminist.

On the feminism front, we had Beyonce strutting about in her leotard, whipping her long extensions around and shaking her ass in a medley about a cheating husband and her African American heritage. It was a strong case for women’s equality.

Poor Britney Spears lip-synced her way through a sad showgirl routine, unaccountably joined by a creepy young douche called G-Eazy. D-Sgusting.

Joe Jonas pretended not to be gay in a dopey production number that started off in a diner. Don’t ask me, I have no idea.

In the huge butt department, Nicki Minaj went overboard this year, looking absolutely gigantic. Kim Kardashian wore a see-through dress, revealing that she has now lost too much weight to deliver the customary shock of her massive ass. EAT, KIM, before it’s too late!

Future performed an aggressive rap, grabbing his crotch and surrounded by gyrating thugs. Whatever he was rapping about, it was obscured by bleeps. I guess that’s a good sign if you’re a rapper, right?

What else?

A band called DNCE won the best new artist award and were a noteworthy eyesore. Here, look for yourself:

It’s hard to believe they’re real. I’m just glad they didn’t perform.

Ariana Grande pranced across the stage in a bra, singing loudly but unable to enunciate. Does anyone know the point of her?

Okay, that’s it. Sorry. Let me know if I forgot anything.

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Rihanna is proving to be the best source of daring, original fashion that the pop world has ever seen. She wears the coolest under-the-radar designers and puts together the best outfits, period. With her yellow fur-trimmed cloak, she has ushered in a style I will call ‘Regal Ghetto‘.

Her outfit is the work of Chinese couture designer Guo Pei and apparently took two years to create. Rihanna didn’t care about dominating the red carpet as it was cleared to accommodate the mileage of her trailing cloak. As she said about social media recently, “Do I even give a dick about that?” And she doesn’t. Not one dick.

Let it be known that I will marry Riri if she will have me.

Next up are the naked butts. J Lo, Kim Kardashian, and Beyonce all unveiled their outsized butts, hoping to grab the spotlight. Kim was SO CLOSE to winning the ‘Most Naked’ prize until Bey showed up in a few sequins, posing her butt in every angle possible from a standing position.

She is pretty damn proud of that butt. I have now looked at it so much that I just want to put a thermometer in it. Mothers, do you feel me? And don’t forget, she is a feminist.

Anyway, Bey wins ‘Most Naked’ but Kim still gets ‘Biggest Bare Butt’, as if there were any other butts in her league.

Why, Kim??? Just stop it. We can’t, okay?

For ‘Most Egregiously Horrifying’, the prize goes to Kim’s mom, Kris.

What the fuck! Surely this is deliberate. But how can this even happen? Where do you find such awful 80’s crap? Sea of Shoes‘s closet? Salvation Army? While we ponder the horror of Kris Jenner, why don’t we say what we’ve been thinking about her marriage. I’ll go first. She and Bruce don’t need a divorce; Bruce can be the woman and Kris can be the man! It’s such a no-brainer. Kris is halfway there, or at least as far along in her ‘journey’ and Bruce is in his.

Never mind, you can’t save every marriage, not if people won’t listen to reason. On to the ‘Most Tragic’ award, it was an easy win for Sarah Jessica Parker.

Should we feel sorry for her? I don’t know. Let’s not. She brought it on herself. On the other hand, she’s married to a man who won’t come out of the closet and she has to pay women to have babies for her. That part is kind of sad. Still, that fucking headpiece: criminal.

Winners in the ‘Simply Awfu’l category were Miley Cyrus, Solange Knowles, Anna Wintour Herself, that 50 Shades of Grey girl, Lady Gaga, and most surprising, Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe the Chris Martin thing is fucking up J Law’s game.

Two gorgeous Chinese actresses who put almost everyone else to shame were barely mentioned, so let’s give them their due. Gong Li is always stunning and her appearance at the Met was right on point. I could watch her movies forever, just to admire her face.

Fan Bingbing is an international red-carpet favorite who always brings it. Always. Last night she was pure ‘Ooooooooooh.’

Finally, my choice for most annoying is Amal Clooney. She is always looking around for a camera. Her bony arm must make Angelina furious. And I’m disgusted that George had to buy a castle in England to pay off his beard uppity starving wife. Just take them away.

Okay, over to you. What did I forget?

God, what an ordeal. I’m going directly to Beyonce to say: Why did everyone love this performance???

I really think I have never seen such an obnoxious display of self-importance in my whole life. “Welcome to my World?” Who gives a shit about her world! Why can’t she sing a song with a melody? It’s all like a long intro that never turns into an actual song. Since when does spreading your legs in a leotard and shaking your hair around signify feminism? Is everybody crazy? Beyonce is now like a parody of a self-important diva. She fucking LOVES herself. Why does she need us at this point? When she tells the audience ‘I love y’all!’ it is absurdly hollow.

And the fucking husband-and-baby gambit, Jesus Christ. Who else would do that? Just awful.

Okay. Moving on. The rest of the show was about asses, most of them huge. I was actually moved to consult my husband for a male judgement on whose ass was the night’s biggest. His answer was Iggy, which surprised me. Surely Niki Minaj had the evening’s hugest ass, or maybe she just twerked it in our faces more.

The look of dismay on Rita Ora‘s face during the Anaconda dance functions perfectly as a universal statement of repugnance for this tawdry shit. It just can’t get any lower. Racist, sexist, artificial, we now have Miley Cryus as the elder statesman and voice of reason. Please Adele, come back, we need you.

In order of awfulness there was:

Tayler Swift – Tragically delusional, she now thinks she is Britney Spears. Make her die.

Nicki Minaj – Depressingly shameless, she has some nerve to lecture other rappers about artistic integrity.

Sam Smith – Ugh! Stop singing that same fucking song. He’s like Antony Hegarty without the gender intrigue. Hate him. Bring back Boy George if we need a pudgy gay white soul singer!

Maroon 5 – Adam Levine is a disgrace to the Chosen People. He needs to shave and to stop imitating Sting.

Jesse J – Ew, what is the point of her? She’s just a big man with a screechy voice.

Now, here’s what was good:

Iggy Azalea – because I love her and that’s that.

Rita Ora – because she can actually sing.

Usher – because he can dance.

Homeless Jesse – because he is really cute, and I liked his relative composure.

Miley Cyrus – Because she managed to look ‘classy’ by keeping her tongue in her mouth, and stole everyone’s thunder with that homeless shit.

Maybe now people can stop throwing buckets of ice water on themselves and start throwing water at Tayler Swift if at all possible.

Kevin Allred, a professor in the women’s and gender studies department at Rutgers University, is stirring up controversy with his signature course: Feminist Perspectives: Politicizing Beyonce.

In a recent interview with NPR, he discusses the genesis of the course. “I read an article a few years ago by Daphne Brooks, a professor at Princeton, and she was arguing that the ‘B’Day’ album should be looked – politically, in kind of line with black, female protest singing throughout history.”

It’s nice to know that Professors at Princeton are thinking about Beyonce too.

Allred continues, “And I wanted to continue that and, like, think about all of Beyonce’s work, post and pre ‘B’Day,’ and her career in general as a way to engage students around these conversations about race, gender, sexuality and the politics of those categories in the United States, especially.”

So I’m, like, how many units is this class and like, what is the cost per unit? Will it help the students to pay back their college loans or what?

If I were teaching Beyonce Studies, I’d start with her transformation from a pretty African American girl to a sleek blond bombshell.

Does a Black woman have to look ‘whiter’ to achieve success with a mass audience? Why is the prevailing concept of female beauty still a busty blond? For all Beyonce’s talk about empowerment, I see a shrewd businesswoman selling herself as a non-threatening sex symbol. Where’s the power in that?

I have no idea what Beyonce means to our culture, but nothing about her piques my curiosity. I’m much more interested when something fresh or challenging manages to capture the public imagination, like Amy Winehouse or ‘Breaking Bad‘. Or when someone truly awful, like Taylor Swift, manages to make $1 million per show.

But that’s just me. I am obviously out of step with most of humanity.

If you’re thinking of taking Professor Allred’s course, you should familiarize yourself with his own dissertation project, for which he is now, ahem, ….

“interrogating U.S. black feminism through the sonic register, reframing debates over intersectionality versus assemblage through taking careful account of the sounds black women’s voices make, both live and recorded. He is particularly interested in the ways black female musicians – like Nina Simone, Odetta, Beyonce Knowles, Nicki Minaj, and Janelle Monae – manipulate their voices in order to resist racist and heteronormative power structures.”

Oh God. Like his hairstyle isn’t enough.

Oh, look: Beyonce visits the Anne Frank house. A good time for an instagram. But she handles herself so much better than Justin Bieber, so that’s a relief.

Let me just quote my favorite line from “True Detective“:

L’chaim, fatass.

Th other day, my nephew R was visiting and I asked him if he’d seen or heard about Beyonce‘s wacky Met Gala dress. Since R is one of the most culturally literate people I’ve ever met, it was a reasonable question.

His response was to shake his head in dismay and express contempt for the idea that anyone gave a shit about Beyonce’s dress. Why should anyone care about this, he exclaimed.

I considered his question and asked, Why should anyone care about anything?

This is the type of conversation I live for. And R is always up for it.

I asked him if anyone should care about the recent auction of “The Scream,” which set a world record by selling for $119.9 million. He said, Yes, because it reflects the state of the current art market and blah blah blah.

Why is “The Scream” more important to know about than Beyonce’s dress? This is a real question. I think that everything we “care” about is just a distraction from the horror of existence. Any time you find yourself in a life or death situation, you realize the fatuousness of all your preoccupations, of everything going on around you. Your choice of car, your shoes, your blue-ray TV, your favorite band, it’s all a distraction.

Moving away from existentialism, I wonder why The Scream is worth $119.9 million. It’s obviously one of the few paintings that is instantly recognizable by any imbecile. The Scream, the Mona Lisa, and Sunflowers are probably the big three, in terms of iconic paintings, right? And I love The Scream, but only because I know it’s an expression of unversal anguish. If it was called “The Toothache”, would it still be worth all that money?

We like The Scream because our taste is a consequence of our social class. Beyonce’s dress probably strikes my nephew as too crass and lowbrow to merit his interest. He may not know that you can take a course in Beyonce Studies at Rutgers.

I am comfortable with the idea that it’s all bullshit, but it’s my nature to wonder about human behavior, even my own. As I continue to waste my time with Tumblr, I’ve been wondering how I make the distinction between real art and kitsch. I tend to disdain the latter, but I wonder if Kitsch is in the eye of the beholder. I also wonder when I’ll be able to stop distracting myself with Tumblr and TV and start experiencing my actual self again.

Meanwhile, where do you stand on Beyonce’s dress, The Scream, and whether you should give a shit? Thoughts, arguments, insults?