Thought experiment, OK? You’re Kim Kardashian. You spent a year having an extremely weird, embarrassing divorce plastered all over magazines in the checkout lanes and on sh*t celebrity TV shows. Divorcing a goofy-looking NBA power forward, no less.
You start going out with Kanye West, and you get pregnant. Over the next nine months you can’t step outside without a million camera’d assholes descending like huge, horrible birds to take your picture. This sucks, because walking around outside is really good and important when you’re pregnant. The photos become cover stories (plural) in checkout lanes about how fat you’re getting. (No exaggeration; they put her picture next to a picture of a whale.)
You have the baby the same week Kanye releases an absolute blockbuster album. Millions of people are listening to “Yeezus” at the same time as they’re still talking at work about how fat you got and what a stupid name you gave your baby. (North.)
There’s a song on “Yeezus” called “Blood on the Leaves.” It samples this classic 1939 tune called “Strange Fruit,” by Billie Holiday, about lynching. “Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees/Blood on the leaves” is the first line in the song. It’s a sad, sick, powerful image.
Kanye raps over that song about how he can’t enjoy his summer because he can’t spend money on the nice stuff he wants because of the baby. He raps about doing Molly (kinda like ecstasy) at a party. And he finishes the song with this:
Then she said she impregnated, that’s the night your heart died
Then you gotta go and tell your girl and report that
Main reason ’cause your pastor said you can’t abort that
Now your driver say that new Benz you can’t afford that
All that cocaine on the table you can’t snort that
That going to that owing money that the court go
All in on that alimony, uh, yeah-yeah, she got you homie
The very next song, “Guilt Trip,” starts with the line “I need to call it off.”
Two takeaways here. One: Kanye is crazy, and he will say anything. I’m sure lots of critics are offended he would take a beautiful piece about lynching black people and turn it into a bouncy club joint about living large, doing drugs, and not wanting to be a dad. That’s the point, though. Imagine Kanye saying “People are gonna freak out,” before doing some of the stuff he does, like saying “George Bush doesn’t care about black people” during a Katrina telethon and interrupting Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech at some big award show to exclaim Beyonce got robbed. “People are gonna freak out.”
(Ha! Mike Meyers is so funny in that clip.)
Same thing before he makes these songs.
“I am a God” features my favorite line in a long time:
I am a God
So hurry up with my damn massage
In a French-ass restaurant
Hurry up with my damn croissants!
He’s really mad when he says that last part. This is supposed to be zany, right? It totally works.
And two: Even if you don’t technically feel bad for Kim Kardashian, isn’t that a crazy situation to be in? Doesn’t she hear “Blood on the Leaves” and think for at least a second, like, “Your heart died when you heard I was pregnant?”
I asked my wife. She loved the Fat Kim photos in those magazines; she’d show them to me as I was digging out the debit card at Albertson’s. Don’t you think that’s kind of a crazy situation she’s in, with Kanye as the kid’s dad, and he’s rapping this stuff?
Eew, my wife said. No.