Not So Crazy In Love

Beyonce, also known as Beyonce Knowles Carter, Bey, B, Queen B, and, the more befuddling, Sasha Fierce, has reigned as the Queen of Pop for a dizzying and daunting 17 years. Beyonce’s career and conquest of the music industry is older than most high school seniors. Other than the fact that she has sold close to 200 million records worldwide, Beyonce has also won 17 Grammy awards and performed at the coveted Super Bowl Halftime Show and the Presidential Inauguration. People love her.

But cowering in the dark and dusty corners of society are the shunned few who find Beyonce to be an overrated, superficial, one-note hack. We are the quietly brooding ones who think her music has plummeted to mediocrity since she went solo, breaking the hearts of Destiny’s Child fans everywhere. Her lyrics read somewhat like drunken texts sent from heartbroken lovers, gurgled together in repetitive notes.

Somehow, tragically, Beyonce has become the poster girl for celebrity feminism. But that role has just about run its course in a world where singing about female dominance and sprawling the word “feminist” across a backdrop is not enough. She rides the wave of “slacktivism” well, claiming she is a feminist who believes in equality, while not really doing anything groundbreaking to prove it. She’s chosen to serve her audience rather than use her position to push people’s buttons and start a discussion. She preaches self-love and female empowerment while photoshopping a thigh gap into her Instagram pics. Come on, Bey, practice what you preach.

Society is eager to label female celebrities as feminists. But who cares what we call them if it’s not really making a difference? It’s all well and good to call yourself a feminist, but then what? If that declaration isn’t followed by action and dedication to the cause, then we could call it just about anything and it would be exactly the same. No change, just a title for people to lean on. Beyonce isn’t the feminist we’re looking for. She’s just one among many people who claim the title but forget its meaning. Beyonce’s world tour, entitled “Mrs. Carter” did nothing to solidify her as a feminist. She backtracked a century, objectifying herself as her husband’s property, using Jay Z’s last name to identify herself in a world where her first name is as household as Mickey Mouse or George Bush.

And then there’s her tabloid-worshipped, twitter-trending family. There’s Bey and Jay and their baby Blue Ivy (who superfans have eloquently named a strain of marijuana after; The highest compliment) who live in their happy little world of perfect Instagram pictures and VMA family outings. Or maybe not so happy. Rumors of an impending divorce floated around the web but were promptly dispelled following a very public display of affection between Jay and Bey at the VMA’s – playing right into the hearts of millions. She used the VMA stage in front of thousands to dust off the negative press she’d been getting rather than really defying the typical celebrity family stunt. A picture perfect family crafted and maintained by the devoted public media. Despite the occasional elevator brawl, they’re all just crazy in love.

And lest we forgot, the songstress also doubles as a literary scholar. In 2006, the Oxford English Dictionary added the word “bootylicious,” an adjective meaning (of woman) sexually attractive, deriving from the words “booty” and “delicious.” Dickens would be so proud.
Everyone knows that Beyonce wouldn’t be Beyonce without her delicious booty. While I may take issue with her claim as a feminist, it can be argued that Beyonce’s body has influenced society’s frame of mind, moving towards a lust of lady lumps and not bony bumps.

Her cult following, made up of literally every age, race and gender, is dangerously in love with her. An apocalypse of Beyonce-stunned zombies is imminent and it must be stopped. If her name was added to the 2016 presidential ballot, I don’t think anyone would be surprised if she actually won. But it’s time she was bumped off her pedestal, time she left the spotlight she superficially uses. Take a bow, Queen B. Your time is up. Everything you own is in the box to the left.