There are people who believe that this creature -- call him "honky," "ofay" or the "blue-eyed devil" -- was created 6,000 years ago by an evil scientist named Yakub via genetic experimentation on an island called Patmos in a ... lab or something. These people are music critics. In the first half of the century, Whitey took the kaleidoscopic music of Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington and begat LAWRENCE WELK and the couldn't-be-more-appropriately-named PAUL WHITEMAN. In the latter, he took Little Richard's gender-bendy, crypto-porn shout 'Tutti Frutti' and begat its wan, Wonder Breaded anathema, PAT BOONE.
We see the Beast's essence everywhere.
There he is, a beefy blond youth in a Von Dutch cap, spilling keg beer as he shifts weight from one Teva to another to a Bob Marley song -- something he calls "dancing"; there he is, performing as MICHAEL BOLTON and VANILLA ICE or singing through the narrow, goateed visage of A.J. MCLEAN. The dreaded character George Clinton christened Sir Nose D'Void of Funk has had an anti-Midas touch on music for decades now, whether it's rockers copping the sexiness but not the subtlety of the blues in the '50s or lemon-faced mooks hijacking hip-hop's vigor to express the torments of suburban males who can't get laid in the '90s.
White folks: They ruin everything.
Stupid racist crap, even though some white guy with a low sense of self probably made the list.
