For years, women in the music industry were at risk of being inappropriately touched by famed male publicist Heathcliff Berru, until one of them had the courage to spread blind-item innuendo about him on Twitter, and then, after seeing how many artists his PR firm dealt with (and hence, how much money he must have been making), initiate a public shaming campaign against him.
Other female artists and industry types chimed in to announce that they’d heard stories that were even worse than the butt-rubbing and hair-biting(???) that one of the girls from Dirty Projectors was forced to endure, though they couldn’t elaborate further, or that he’s not a good person on any level, whatever that means, and then proceeded to congratulate themselves for their candor.
The guy from Wavves, who I’m pretty sure used to bang one of the girls who got “tampered with” (unless I’ve got my late ‘00s-era indie rock gossip all wrong) fired Berru as his publicist using a Donald Trump meme, while the girl from Speedy Ortiz announced that she needed to hold a meeting to decide whether to continue to cut checks to a convicted (by the Court of Public Opinion, Twitter Division, the honorable Judge Aggrieved Harpy presiding) sex offender.
Life or Death PR’s website went down for repair, so people couldn’t see which artists had been enabling Berru for years. It seems like some of them may have even emailed sites to have their names removed from articles about the allegations against the male publicist, lest such an unsavory association interfere with their shilling for various brands of soda, tennis shoes, Bud Light with Lime and what have you.
“We’re rock against drugs!”
In the same spirit of unflinching honesty that led to the revelation that Berru may have done bad things to other girls (or it could just be that he’s not nice), it was suggested that certain unnamed artists needed to stop sticking up for their friends. To get an idea of who this might be, you could take a list of artists who worked with Life or Death PR and subtract the names of people who have said something at least nominally bad about Berru on Twitter in the past few days… except where do we find a list of Life or Death PR artists?
I’m sure the artists themselves know, and this could lead to some awkward situations backstage at this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival — even worse than that year Arruh was the headliner. (The backstage area at P-fork is directly adjacent to a public pool for black kids. One year, back in the Dark Ages, the Go! Team invited a bunch of them to dance on stage during their set.) Word on the street is that Pitchfork founder Ryan Schreiber is tight with Berru. Hopefully, he’s not implicated in any of this. Though that would explain quite a bit.
Arguably, any black artists who were working with Life or Death PR, i.e. Wu-Tang Clan and maybe, arguably, Odd Future, should be exempted from having to make a public spectacle of distancing themselves from Berru, because this is ridiculous white people shit. Plus, the more Tyler the Creator says about this, the more likely it is that someone draws the line between the allegations against Berru and all of his songs about raping people. He’s already banned from the UK, which is one of a washed up rapper’s top sources of income.
Killer Mike could have avoided commenting on this shit, and he probably would have been fine. White people love Killer Mike now, and I doubt they’d let the actions of some hipster pervert get in the way of that. They need to already have something against you, in order to seize on some shit that hardly has anything to do with you. But since when have you known Killer Mike to not issue a statement about something he could conceivably have something to say about? Off camera, he’s exactly like he is on CNN. He lives to explain shit to people.
And so, the other day, Killer Mike found himself defending Bernie Sanders against Ta-Nehisi Coates and reaffirming his friendship with a convicted (in Twitter Court) sex offender at the same time. His life really is like a movie. I followed along as well as I could from the warehouse, which is underground, pulling up Twitter on my phone down by the loading docks every now and again.
Ta-Nehisi Coates just cashed a $625,000 check from the Illuminati, so you knew he was about to be on some ol’ bullshit. Plus, Bernie Sanders had the sheer balls to appear in a YouTube video with Cornel West, who famously had to check Toni Morrison (via lengthy Facebook status update) for calling Coates the new James Baldwin, and also, of course, Killer Mike.
Cornel West is persona non grata amongst all of the officially sanctioned black commentators, including Michael Eric Dyson, who published a lengthy hit-piece on West in the New Republic this past summer and then followed it up in the fall with an article about how Hillary will be a better black president than Obama, and Melissa Harris Perry, whom Coates once called America’s top public intellectual, leading to a debate with some CAC who thought he couldn’t possibly be serious. As discussed in (I think) Infinite Crab Meats, Cornel West once called Harris Perry a fraud and said she was in over her head.
If the likes of Coates and Dyson continue to shit on Sanders like they have been, and Sanders somehow wins, they could end up watching the inauguration from hotel rooms with their moms like Cornel West did in ’09. Or do they know something that we don’t? Notice how Hillary has seemed to kinda play the background as Sanders has surged in the past few weeks, like it doesn’t matter how many people vote for him. I’m reminded of that time a reporter asked George H.W. Bush how he felt about W losing the ’00 election, and he said the reporter shouldn’t be so certain of the outcome just yet.
If there’s a discrepancy with the election results, maybe it can be settled in Twitter Court. We can exchange secondhand stories about what Donald Trump did to Miss Universe contestants in the back of a limousine in 1986 and then pat ourselves on the back. Guys will have to pat other guys and girls will have to pat other girls (especially the latter), so as no to create the appearance of impropriety, as my father (a CPA) would put it.
Take it easy on yourself,
Originally published at tinyletter.com.