Good afternoon, MSNBC viewer. I’m Katy Tur, which is short for Katamount Turtledrinker. I remember saying to my parents, ‘That doesn’t sound like a real name,’ and they sent me to bed without my turtle smoothie. My childhood was confusing as hell. Anyway, our guest today is Kanye West. He wasn’t scheduled to be here, but he wandered in to the studio and is now refusing to leave unless he’s interviewed. Let’s see how this goes. Hi, Kanye.”
“Your name is Katy!”
“Yes.”
“That is too close to my name! I will not call you that! Your name will be Miss Marple’s Wheelchair!”
“Katy is fine.”
“God spoke to me as recently as currently, and He wants me to call you Miss Marple’s Wheelchair. It is a glorious name! Many angels, some of whom are also speaking to me currently, share that name.”
“I’m moving on. Kanye, a few days ago, you announced that you were running for President.”
“Jogging!”
“What?”
“I am not running for President, I am jogging for President. There was a black man who tried to jog, and the police ate him. I jog in his honor, but we must remember that the police are people, too. I watched a documentary about the police, and big corporations are turning our brave officers into robots.”
“Are you talking about RoboCop?”
“I am talking about Jesus! No matter what I talk about, I am talking about Jesus. Cops are Jesus. Many black people bring about their own problems when it comes to the cops. Since I moved to rural Wyoming, I have had no confrontations with the police. My experience is universal.”
“It’s really not.”
“I am the Everyman! I am the Alpha Man! I am the Omega Man! I enjoy Frosted Flakes!”
“Uh-huh. Can I ask you about some of your political positions?”
“Positions are for positrons, and I am not a positron. I am a celebrity! I have met every single cast member of The Office, some on multiple occasions. I will approach politics like I do my award-winning shoe designs: I will win awards.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Shiny awards!”
“That’s not what I meant. Can you tell us about your tax plan?”
“I will eliminate them! The only reason we pay taxes is so that the government can buy new board games for the aliens at Area 51. Aliens are huge into table-top gaming, but I do not see why we should have to pay for it.”
“What are your thoughts on the pandemic?”
“I had it worse than 50 Cent. He had a very mild case, and mine was enormous. Jesus had to personally save my life six, maybe seven times. And then 50 claims that his ronus was worse than mine! This is insulting and false!”
“I meant what do you plan to do about the coronavirus?”
“Call the Avengers.”
“The Avengers aren’t real.”
“Only because you do not believe, Miss Marple’s Wheelchair!”
“Don’t call me that.”
“The Avengers will defeat the ronus! They have hammers and a super-raccoon, but the white boy who claims godhood better watch his ass. Jesus does not like that, and He has a much bigger hammer than that Thor person.”
“Jesus has a hammer?”
“He is a carpenter!”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Is anyone advising you on your Presidential run?”
“Jog.”
“Whatever.”
“Kim is my advisor. She’s very knowledgeable. She stores her knowledge in her ass. You’ve seen that donk! Lotta room for information in there. Strategies and tactics and precedents and whatnot. Kim could fit the whole internet in her ass. It’s like a camel’s hump. People think there’s water in there, but no. Fat. People think there’s just ass in Kim’s ass, but no. Knowledge.”
“Kanye–”
“On long voyages through the desert of ignorance, Kim can sustain herself via her ass. The woman eats her own ass!”
“Kanye–”
“You find a girl who can eat her own ass, you marry that bitch.
…
“Switching topics.”
“I WILL NOT DISCUSS NATURAL GAS PIPELINES.”
“I wasn’t going to bring them up. But why not?”
“They do not exist. They are white devilry.”
“Okay.”
“And they look like dicks.”
“I thought you said they didn’t exist.”
“Unicorns don’t exist, but I know what they look like.”
“Good point. Kanye, does your entrance into the race mean you have repudiated your support for Donald Trump?”
“Not for his mastery of the buffet. When you go to one of Mr. Trump’s properties, there is always a buffet that will blow you away. He does not scrimp on the shrimp. Crab legs like a motherfucker.”
“Please watch your language.”
“My mouth is not your slave! You do not own my mouth!”
“Didn’t say I did.”
“My mouth would fight back, like Black Tarzan. My mouth would swing on vines, and wear a loincloth, and take you down gorilla-style. My mouth is Black Tarzan!”
“I am violently confused by this conversation.”
“Whoopity scoop.”
“How about a commercial?”
“Scoopity poop.”
“Awesome. Be right back.”
I feel like this implies that Yeezy is a member of the First Church of the Iterated Christ. And now I am wondering about how the Reverend Arcade Jones is fairing in these troubled times. Perhaps a road trip with the deacon and Precarious on the old Interstitial might clear things up. As much as I miss festivals and concerts, I also miss having a new chapter from a neighborhood where things still work. Where the Latin over the hospital entrance says “Quid hoc fecisti, ut tibi?” which only makes sense. I wonder how Big Dicked Sheila is doing with all of the hairdressers shut down.
Just a love letter more than a complaint.