webofevil | My Humps Redux

An exciting new theory from my esteemed colleague on the internal dynamics within 21st-century laureates the Black–Eyed Peas that puts a whole new slant on the execrable My Humps. The men in the group still resent the fact that no-one gave even the merest hint of a fart about what they were doing until “Fergie” joined the line-up and gave people something to look at other than this:

Ooh, Christ

My esteemed colleague claims to have stumbled entirely by accident upon a TV interview with the group minus Fergie, and says the bitterness was palpable when they were invited by an interviewer to revisit once again the fact that they had been going precisely nowhere before A&R took them in hand, amputated their last vestigial dreams of credibility and persuaded America’s Least Convincing Latina to leap on to the tailgate of their rubbish rap bus:

So, this theory goes, the men, wallowing in accumulated resentment, write ever more humiliating, degrading and misogynist things for her to sing as payback for her success. She, on the other hand, laughs at them, performs it all cheerfully, picks up her ever-larger cheques and buys stuff. This makes them even angrier, and the process continues apace.

I’d quite like to think this was true. For a start, it would explain how she manages to perform their gibberish with a smile on her face.