Barack Obama’s security detail is an Orange County cheerleading squad next to the linebacker thuggery that shields America’s top rappers from the unwashed. Getting into Young Jeezy’s Inaugural Ball at Washington’s Club Love last night was like watching a rap video in reverse: first came the flashing cop cars, then the gangstas roughing you up, followed by B-roll of floor-humping throngs, and finishing off with a beautiful honey taking your drink order in iambic pentameter — fade to black and a slow needle scratch.
All this to promote badboy-turned-good kid rapper Young Jeezy’s hit single, “My President [iz Black],” which is in fact, a truism. Nobody was certain if the rapper would actually show for his show, but about fifty black-cloaked giants surrounded the stage for several anticipatory hours and mumbled into their collarbones. Meanwhile, another oversized legion blockaded every possible passage, staircase, and bathroom door and belittled the minions who tried to pass. Civil treatment came only to those who flashed the right wristband, and I quote: “Only white gets on this floor.” Yes, the super-elite, all-access, VIP, bouncer-eff-off wristband was white. Hey Obama, word to your mother.