Foxy Brown's Endless Reign of Terror
The time: 1 p.m.
The date: May 1st
The place: 123 Mercer Street
Sighted: "Saw Foxy Brown at Agent Provocateur. The store girl was helping a customer when Foxy freaked on her for not helping her instead and started screaming in her face. She made the cute girl cry."
To every generation a musical prodigy is born. In the nineteenth century, it was Beethoven. Today, it is Foxy Brown. But the comparisons between Beethoven and Foxy do not stop at the eerily similar Ninth Symphony and Ill Na Na. Forced into isolation by virtue of their rare genius, both were ironically and tragically afflicted with profound deafness, Beethoven in his Vienna apartment, and Foxy in the studio with Jay-Z. Fortunately for Foxy, breakthroughs in medicine have allowed her to regain her precious hearing, but modern science could not cure the emotional scars.
Foxy's illness set her upon a path of erratic and dangerous behavior. Like Beethoven before her, Foxy punched and kicked two nail-salon manicurists, and was sentenced to three years' probation and anger management classes. Also like Beethoven, Foxy threw hair glue at a beauty supply store manager and spit on him. And now, the virtuoso has successfully broadened her reign of terror to include not only physical assaults on beauty industry professionals, but also verbal and email threats to deli owners, lingerie salespeople, personal assistants and innocent bystanders. It seems clear that with a rap sheet as comprehensive and as diverse as Foxy's, her abuse is merely another expression of her genius. After all, genius and abuse go hand in hand across the artistic spectrum, and it is no coincidence that Naomi Campbell, a good friend of Foxy's, needs to abuse her assistants as part of the unfettered expression of her beauty.
But Foxy and Naomi's abuse serves an important social function as well. It reminds us that there are indeed two classes of people—celebrities and everyone else, and the latter group is basically worthless. Celebrities, by virtue of their genetic superiority, superior wealth, and general superior nature, have earned the right to abuse non-celebrities. If we lose a few manicurists and Agent Provocateur salespeople at the hands of a musical genius, that is indeed a small price to pay to maintain "the last real bitch alive." Consider it collateral damage in the ongoing struggle to maintain celebrity culture for our generation and for those to come.