bitch: for gay men & dope women.

let me say that i secretly long to be joan morgan, to wear sexy shades of "black girl" orange, write for the voice, and author when chickenheads come home to roost: my life as a hip hop feminist. her work was instrumental in my girlhood. i closed the book & had become woman--grown an inch, bumped up a cup, & developed a switch that was 2/3 confidence to 1/3 self-consciousness.

morgan recently penned a review of madonna's new disc. morgan says that "madge is taking y'all to church." for those not adept at southern slang, i offer a translation: madonna has schooled us in the art of dance music. i wish i could ride morgan's wave of enthusiasm, but alas, i can't. the tide is low and so are my feelings toward her album. the tightest track is hung up, the lead single. the pulsing beat is infectious and madonna's thin, wiry voice skids along the surface of melody.

i ain't mad at you, madonna.