The 24-7 Traveling Kanye Soap Opera, and... Ego-dancing Conga Line has been... shudder... debanked by the Professional Victim Industry of The Most Put Upon and Blameless Among Us. Those who you are NOT ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE... because everyone is mean to them, for... no... reason, have now gone after one of their own puppet creations for not kissing The Divine Clefted Shrine of his betters. You know... the people with The Slaveship Franchise; one of the first prototypes of McDonald's??? Only they don't serve you hamburgers. They turn... you... into... hamburger, and your children into sashimi. Word!
Kanye, whose level of talent couldn't make the top ten of America's Least Wanted, did not... in my opinion, (and... let me reiterate once more with feeling) have much more than marginal talent in an industry based on venomous treacle-vomit... turned into Soylent Green.
This... is... just... my... opinion, cause, you (the reader) might also have never read a book in your life or heard The Beatles... or Pavarotti... or Perry Como... Frank Sinatra... or Elvis Presley; people... who... could... sing... is what I mean. He can't write. He can't sing. He can't dance. He's not funny. Have you read the lyric sheets to his work?!?!?
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