Blue Ivy

Is Beyonce Big Brother?: A Reflection on the VMAs

I watched the VMAs last night. I wasn’t planning on it; it just happened. I follow Taylor Swift on Twitter (who doesn’t?) and she was tweeting adorable pictures like this and I felt like, as a self-proclaimed pop culture aficionado, I should be aware of whatever was going on last night. I mean, what if there was another twerk-gate and I missed it completely? What kind of American would that make me? So I realized it was about to be on, turned the channel from Doctor Who (Vincent and the Doctor never gets old, you guys), and braced myself.

The VMAs are about as prestigious as the Dundees, but sometimes you get some good performances out of them.

Last night’s Video Music Awards (which doesn’t even make any sense. Why is it not Music Video Awards? Ugh. Kids.) were all about Beyonce.

Sure, Jessie J and Ariana Grande and Sam Smith all killed it, T-swizzle’s performance was super fun, but it was all leading up to the longest medley ever, performed by none other than Queen B.

Guys, I love Beyonce. I do. I’m getting a little tired of her nonsensical R&B songs with no real chorus but whatever. She’s Beyonce. I’m giving her a pass for a year or so.

Her medley, therefore, was about 80 percent boring, 10 percent 'Drunk In Love' and 10 percent 'XO.' I…I actually turned it off during her medley (NO WAIT BEYGENCY I DVR’D IT AND FINISHED IT LATER OK?). And I never turn off a Beyonce performance. I’m just saying, it was boring for at least the first 45 minutes. Oh, it was only a 10 minute performance? Huh.

Toward the end (when it started getting interesting) home videos of her, Blue and Jay Z scrolled by on the screen behind her looking all family-like and cute.

And Her Royal Highness Blue Ivy Carter was IN the audience you guys. She was THERE. (Let me just tell you, she could wipe the floor with North West the Person.*)

Jay Z and Blue Ivy came up to present Beyonce the Vanguard Award which is some kind of lifetime achievement award or something that has a legacy of like, four whole years, that MTV is trying to make a thing to prove they can be serious even though the commercials were half for condoms and half trailers for awful, and I mean, truly, truly awful low-budget teen dramas. But it’s adorable that they try.

The thing with Beyonce is, I know I’m being manipulated emotionally. I know that. Do you think I haven’t connected the dots that amid rumors of divorce she’s showing adorable home videos and bringing her whole family, one of whom she rarely posts full-face photos of, to a meaningless award show where for some reason Jay Pharoah is still trying to make his Jay Z impression happen (even though Jay Z is actually there)?

No. I know I’m being manipulated emotionally, but it’s like I don’t even care. I’m enjoying it.

I mean LOOK AT BLUE IVY. Look at that gold dress and her little afro with a barrette in it and her calling Beyonce ‘mommy.’ Look at her do the single-ladies hand:

Am I the only one just now realizing Kelly was there? #poormichelle 

Beyonce might be Big Brother. I’m not really sure. It’s probably a logical conclusion. She’s controlling the popular opinion of an entire country, maybe even the world. If she told us to go to war with like, England, in the name of Blue Ivy because like Prince George hurt her feelings or something, you don’t think we would be all over that? You don’t think Barack and Michelle owe her a favor or two?

I’m getting off track. I’m just saying that all you need to know about the VMAs is that in lieu of anyone taking mics from Taylor Swift or defiling a foam finger, we got like 20 minutes of Beyonce brainwash. And I’m not sure I’m even mad about it.

What was your favorite part? (I mean really. HOW much did Jessie J kill it?)

*Trademark Suri’s Burn Book

Dear Blue Ivy Carter (a.k.a. Babyonce)

Dear Blue Ivy, Welcome to the world!

And congratulations on already becoming the youngest person to have a chart-topping hit. Your performance was moving.

I'm sure you've heard by now that your parents are quite the music moguls, and you might consider following in their footsteps. You might be tempted to whip your hair back and forth or add "lil" in front of your name. I beg you to reconsider. Don't feel pressured by society to continue the legacy your parents have established. (Though if your dance skills and vocal prowess are remotely as mind-boggling as your mom's, I'd personally like see Beyonce 2.0 at some point in our future. Just sayin'. Take the time to have a childhood, go to prom, finish school---then take the world by storm and wow us all with the combined talent of Beyonce and Jay-Z. It'd really be a shame to let that gene pool go to waste.)

 

I'd also like to request that, no matter how tempting it seems, you steer clear of reality television in the future. Since you are considered 2nd generation pop royalty, several shows may call your name. And you may be enticed by the fact that you'd be blazing your own trail to fame separate from your parents'. But if we've learned anything from reality T.V., it's that it is not conducive to making solid life decisions, and reality T.V. fame is like the tagalong friend to the cool kids (i.e. real fame) that no one really takes seriously. Just look at the cast of Jersey Shore (sorry if that reference is lost on you by the time you're old enough to read this).

So even if the producers get together Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon's twins, Suri Cruise, and the host of children Angelina Jolie has taken under her wing and want you to round out the cast, just say no. Because you're better than that, babyonce. You're better than that.

Also, please don't listen to Watch the Throne until you're at least 16, and I'd avoid your dad's friend Kanye at all costs. Society doesn't trust him and neither do I.

Now, Blue Ivy, go forth and grace the pages of US Weekly's "Stars: They're Just Like Us!" and People Magazine for years to come. We'll be patiently awaiting your debut in 2030.

Love,

Laura

P.S. Will you talk to your mom about being my friend? I'd really appreciate you getting a good word in for me. Thanks.