Kanye West has lost his damn mind.
I thought that when he made an ode to Kim Kardashian calling her his “perfect bitch”, then announced she was pregnant for him—while she was still married to someone else— by calling her his “baby mama”. There was that short-lived campaign to get KK a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. This despite Kardashian and Co.’s repeated insistence that they are not acting on their long–running reality show. Oh, and then there are the antics during Ye's latest tour, which features Ye being being hoisted into the air by 10 naked-looking and melanin-deficient women while he screams… Not anything in particular. Just. Screams. (I’m sure there’s some artistic merit to that, or better, I hope there is, but I’m clueless as to what it could be.)
And now, as if to add more grandeur to his delusion, there is Ye’s recent rant that fiancée Kim K is deserving of the same attention of First Lady Michelle Obama. On Monday, speaking at Ryan Seacrest’s radio show, West told the host:
There’s no way Kim Kardashian shouldn’t be on the cover of Vogue. She’s like the most intriguing woman right now. She’s got Barbara Walters calling her like every day ... and collectively we’re the most influential with clothing.
“No one is looking at what [President] Obama is wearing. Michelle Obama cannot Instagram a pic like what my girl Instagrammed the other day.
Sigh.
Earlier this year, two things happened: Justin Timberlake covered the Jacksons' “Shake Your Body (Down To The Ground)”. And by cover, I mean he went there, doing the song and Michael Jackson’s original choreography. Writing for Vulture, Lindsey Weber gushed of the performance, “Can Justin Timberlake just put out an album of Jacksons covers? We mean all the Jackson songs — Michael, Janet, Jackson 5, all of them. It would be outstanding, and he (and his band!) already knows all the appropriate moves."
This combination sent writer Alexander Hardy (aka The Colored Boy) from zero to MF 100:
While JT is generally tolerable provided there are dancers and sangin', groovin', and two-steppin' ass Blacks behind him, one of his appropriation-approving Black friends needs to take the wheel and steer the Motherfucker Please Mobile safely back into the appropriate lane.
He's been allowed to frolic freely as Diet Michael, the empowered part-time impersonator lucky that nobody has ever peeped the counterfeit tags on his Groove. Pulling references, ideas, and rejected albums from Him: safe. "No feelings were harmed in the making of this fake Black song," and shit like that. Similar to how you treat your uncle who's on "that stuff": Ruin YOUR shit, but don't come around here trying to sell Big Mama's couch and fuck up her good credit, scumbag. That's YOUR own, private shit show. Keep your tragedy to yourself, playboy. All ultimately harmless, really.
But a cover of "Shake Your Body (Down To The Ground)?" With the actual choreo? With that soul-free wax paper voice of his?
Bitch, have some decorum.
That last part? That’s actually what I want to say to Kanye. But I’m a life coach and all now, so I try to walk the talk and reel in the thoughts in my head and re-interpret them to something more suitable for civilized and quotable society before they come out my mouth, a skill Kanye would to well to adapt. That “I’mma just say anything” is still mildly amusing even if the schtick is past stale when Ye’s sweating himself and his fiancé only. But when he decided to drag the First Lady & El Presidente into it, a MF* went too far.
You want your lady on the cover of Vogue? Fine. She’ll have a better shot when you get out of her closet and get her her old wardrobe back. Her fashion has been downhill every since you got involved. FYI: because an item of clothing has a European designer label and costs a lot does not automatically make it hot. Kim was “influential” in fashion and doing just fine before you ran up in her walk-in with your personal stylist, the one who kept you in leather pants for the entire summer.
But back to Vogue. Though Kim hasn’t redeemed herself from that monstrosity you put her in for the Met Ball (pictured left), you still want her considered for the cover of Vogue. These latest round of statements assure you’ve already burned your bridge with Anna Wintour. 
But if you want more beef for just the sake of it, talk about one of the random white girls I can’t identify or distinguish from any of the others, but stares out at me from the Vogue cover each month. Talk about how that random white woman is being celebrated for her fashion while your white woman is an international household name and can’t get on. That’s fair. But to pretend your lady, who for the record, I actually like, think is hot, and find pretty harmless, is worthy of any comparison to the first Black First Lady?
“Sir”, have some decorum.
Barbara Walters calls your chick once a day? That’s nice. Walters is one of the greatest journalists of all time and she’s funny on The View now. But you know who calls Michelle Obama at least threes times a day? The Leader of the Free World, a man whose clothes no one pays attention to because 1) he wears a variation of the same ish every day; and 2) because there are more important things to discuss than fashion when you’re speaking of a man who spends his days RUNNING THE GOT DAMN UNITED STATES.
The difference between your lady and the President’s Lady is his wife doesn’t have to Instagram a pic like what your girl did the other day to keep folks paying attention. Your girl posts a pic of her post-baby ass (because that's why she's relevant) and the Internet goes wild. Michelle Obama cuts her bangs (and remains fully dressed) and it has a similar effect, except way, way bigger. And she gets the cover of Vogue. Twice.
There’s levels to this ish, according to Meek Mill. And there’s a cute little spoof making the Internet rounds right now of what First Lady Michelle Obama would say in response to your latest meltdown if she actually cared, that sums it up well. This is my favorite part of faux Michelle’s response:
I once overheard some of our summer interns talking about you — about how mad you get when you're compared to other rappers, because your peers are Jesus and Jobs and Walt Disney.
So you have to understand where I'm coming from when I say it's laughable for my 21-year marriage to be mentioned on the same website as your thing with Kim.
Imagine if someone compared you to Papoose, Kanye. Well, you're Barack's Papoose. And yes, Kim is my Remy Ma.
You and yours and President Obama and his both hang out with Beyonce’ (and Jay) at social events, and it seems you’ve somehow come to think this makes you and Kim all in the same gang with the Obamas.
For clarity, it does not.
*I added a “motherfucker so ig’ant folks can hear me.