On a macro level and, I think, by most objective measures, 2017 was a fairly shitty year. I donât have the time or disposition to run down everything that went wrong, but in a nutshell: Our president sucks, Congress sucks, our white electorate sucks, white people keep white-folkinâ, we lost a bevy of great people andâŠ
2017 has been a whirlwind for black beauty enthusiasts across the Diaspora. Rihanna cameâferociouslyâfor all of our coins with the launch of Fenty Beauty. Flat-tummy teas were the rage of the year for Instagram celebrities. And we could not get enough of banana powder.
Any time capsule attempting to capture 2017 would definitely include an acoustic cover of âBodak Yellow,â an American flag with a Colin Kaepernick figurine kneeling on it, a clip of the sunken-place scene from Get Out and an Apple watch, just in case someone in the future discovers a reason for it existing. But theâŠ
Last week, Panama Jackson asked which Bad Boy song was the most quintessentially Bad Boy. Not the best or most important song from that label and that era, but the one that best encapsulated Bad Boyâs general ethos and spirit. I disagreed with his top choice (he chose âMo Money, Mo ProblemsââI would have chosen âItâsâŠ
If I squint with my good eye and drink something potent out of a red Solo cup, 2016 doesnât seem so badâfrom an entertainment perspective, anyway. So, as we move forward into the new year, here are some things Iâd very much like to see. That is to say, if 2017 doesnât end early because a nuclear apocalypse initiatedâŠ
