Oct 26, 2009
Tyler Perry, Drug Dealer
Tyler Perry is a drug dealer. That's right, I said it! Dude's been slangin' dope every since he got started. How you think he built that studio? Drug profits, plain and simple. Meet me in the trap, it's goin' down!
Now, let me be clear, before TP and his unruly fans get their hackles up. I'm not saying Tyler is selling narcotics, at least not those of the chemical variety. What I am saying is that the movies he makes are the cultural equivalent of dope, and I don't mean 'dope' in the hip hop sense either. I mean mind numbing, mood altering, life destroying, dope. Bad dope, at that. Shake, swag, stress. Dude's pushin' some straight bullshit. Ain't no blue magic where Tyler is concerned. TP's dope has been cut so many times, that it might not even be fair to call it dope anymore. Maybe we should just call it cut?
There are chemical drugs that alter the mind and and then there are drugs like those ignorant-ass, handkerchief head movies and television programs that TP releases under his banner. Movies and television shows that paint black people as a bunch of overly religious, jive-talkin' clowns, in bad clothes.
Yet, in spite of the demeaning stereotypes and utter disregard for black humanity, TP's dope has some people reluctant to criticize him. Many point to TP's money and success and in turn use this to justify their support of his nefarious enterprise. No one is crazy enough to actually try and defend the garbage that he puts out, so praising his business success allows them to shift the focus away from the amateurish flicks that he makes.
Yes, TP has made a lot of money, and so have a lot of real dope dealers too. Yet when these real dope dealers started making money and rapping about their lives, attempts to silence their voices were non-stop. Cries about gangsta rappers and their lyrics destroying the community have been going on for 20 years now. TP makes an empire by reviving some of the same stereotypes that were once used to justify the subjugation of black people and his fans act like he invented the wheel.
The bottom line is, some people like seeing themselves represented as a bunch of buffoons. They like seeing black men wear dresses and be emasculated before the whole world. They like seeing black women portrayed as sassy, cantankerous Sapphires, who sleep with their fists balled up and who can't wait to 'cuss' somebody out.
Oh that's right, Precious, the film Perry and Oprah have now latched themselves onto, was written by someone named Sapphire. Well, the Sapphire I'm talking about is the one from Amos and Andy; though anything written by someone named Sapphire is something I KNOW I don't need to see. Not to go off on a tangent here, but Lee Daniels, the director of Precious, was the producer of that Klansman's wet dream disguised as a movie called Monster's Ball. TP and Daniels are a match made in pork chop heaven.
Anyway, back to the lecture at hand. TP embraces the fact that he has worked the chitlin' circuit for his riches, like many of the legendary black performers of the past. The difference is that those old school black performers had no choice. It's not like Broadway was beating down their door. The old school performers were forced to exist in segregated conditions. TP chooses to create culture in a fashion reminiscent of the chitlin' circuit. He purposely foregrounds images of black people from times gone by, not to critique these images, but to embrace their lack of dignity.
Tyler Perry is a drug dealer. His work alters people's sense of reality, it distorts their perception, it eats away at their mind. This is your brain on Tyler Perry, or should I say, a mind is a terrible thing to waste.
I don't care how much money he makes. Dude is exploiting his own people. Not only is he subjecting his workers to exploitative conditions, but he is also exploiting his church-lovin' audience, and in turn he is exploiting black culture. I thought there was supposed to be a war on drugs? Well, you missed one!
TP, let me pull your coat. Wipe the grease paint off your face, stop buggin' your eyes, take off the dress, stop scratching when you don't itch, put away the jazz hands, and get your mind right. Oh yeah, save your money too, Dog. That gravy train of yours is running out of gas. I know some of you are saying that he's made too much money to ever be broke again, that he's too big to fail. That's what Antonie Walker thought too. Look at him now.
One day soon people will rise up and say no more, TP. No more jeffin', no more coonin', no more bojanglin'. No mas, baby!
Where is the Drop Squad when you need 'em?