Mr. West, having just stepped out of a Banana Republic catalogue, pauses to consider the majesty of the "caps lock" function.
Not to contribute to the rugby-pile of poo-poos and disses smothering Kanye in ironically much the same way his ego smothers ALL OF HUMANITY (see, Mr. West, what you taught the children about using all caps. You’re so powerful that even jaded, mysteriously employed writers are following your lead. Rock!), but I must direct you, my vast and loyal readership, to New Yorker pop music critic Sasha Frere-Jones’ open letter to He Who Hath No Sense of Self in Relation to All Other Things. And please do remember to watch the video.
Food for thought: Doesn’t Kanye remind you of that kid in 7th grade who cried every day for no reason? It’s a quotidian impulse I fear only electroshock therapy will curb.