During a 7-day hospital stay (which we will address soon), my bookmark remained, hopelessly, at page 29 of Tayari Jones’s An American Marriage. Every time I’d pick up the book to read, someone would come to visit or I’d fall asleep. And other times, with my book across the room, I’d have to wait for someone to unhook my IV at which point—at long last, free from liquid-pumping bondage—I’d run and pee and then (because, such is life) forget to grab my book on the way back. I gave up on the task, in retrospect, way too easily.
Sunday morning, I woke up to a frenzy of tweets hailing Childish Gambino as a genius. If you happened to have been watching SNL or catching up on Atlanta and witnessed the brilliance of his alter ego Donald Glover— this is not news. What many of us were not expecting was for Childish Gambino to enrich our lives and minds with new music. Embedded in a tweet, I watched a two minute clip in which as an ever-gleeful, dancing Gambino (moves was real smoove though, not going to lie) extinguishes a group of choir members with an automatic rifle in 3 seconds, flat. Jaw-drop. Heart-sink. Not the ideal visual for a Christian girl to witness on a Sunday morning. To be perfectly honest, I was bothered. But recalling Gambino’s perplexing music video catalog, I sensed there was a lot more going on here than gratuitous violence.
…Alright, Mr. Gambino. You have my attention.