R. Kelly, You Beautiful Bastard...

once in every generation or three, an artist is born that finds it in his or her very nature to so frequently blur the lines between average prowess and god-like ability, that you have trouble remembering what your life was like before you came into awareness of their skillful prose.

i speak, clearly, of robert sylvester kelly - the most accomplished and well-respected lyricist in the last twenty years, nay, the entire history of mankind. a man so beloved and accepted as the very height of homosapien perfection, that he can literally urinate in the face of a female a full four years short of the legal age of consent, and not be convicted of any crime whatsoever.

while listening to the classic r kelly masterpiece "ignition: remix" this weekend past, i came to appreciate one chunk of wordage so much that i decided to devote this entire blog entry to its wonder. i felt as if i would play a part in the world being a bit of a darker place if i didnt go out of my way to expose as many people as possible to the following snippet of r kelly excellence....

"Now it's like 'Murda She Wrote'
Once I get you out them clothes
Privacy is on the do'
But still they hear you screamin' mo'
Girl I'm feelin whatchu feelin'
No more hopin' and wishin'
I'm about to take my key'n
Stick it in your ignition"

impressive, yes, i know.

the overall theme of this specific verse (read: all r kelly songs ever) is having sexual intercourse with a female counterpart in a hotel room. here, kelly does an expert job interjecting a bit of pop culture, mentioning in passing the long-running CBS crime drama "murder she wrote".

ignoring the fact that the mere mention of anything involving angela lansbury and a sexual situation makes most of the world want to remove their reproductive system with a pick axe and disposable razor, the listener is painted a vivid picture of an erotic evening between two eager and willing participants. the privacy door hanger implies a certain animal abandonment of restraint, an action only two people guaranteed complete and total concealment would pursue.

the portrayal is further illuminated with an intense ultima of the verse - the picture of a key being inserted into an ignition as a beautiful and apt representation of penial / vaginal contact. the listener, at this point in the story, is all but invited into the dwelling as a discreet third party observer. you almost get the feeling that in that specific situation r kelly himself would shoot you a hushing glace, urging you not to give your presence away. and to pick up a freaking video camera if you have nothing better to do.

thank you, robert sylvester kelly. thank you from all of us. thank you for do what it is that only you can do. thank you for your genius, your work, your very existence. i wanted to have some sort of celebration dinner for you, give you a lifetime achievement award, tell you how we all feel about you, but the only venue available was the hyatt hotel lobby, and putting you into that type of situation just isnt safe for those in attendance.

you might go "lil house on tha prarie" on someone and rape them in a secluded suite.

R KELLY IS A CHILD MOLESTOR.