The R. Kelly Verdict

My sophomore year at college, my roommate worked at BET as an intern and got hold of the infamous R. Kelly sex tape before it was circulated around black America. For weeks afterwards, kids would flock into our dorm from all corners of the campus to get a peek at the R. Kelly scandal. The tape played hundreds of times in our living room and, like a train wreck, most times I felt compelled to watch it. And after countless viewings and the span of a few years I have trouble deciding which part disgusts me more.

At first I thought it was the girl, who was clearly pre-pubescent, wiggling her hips at his command and then peeing on herself. Then I thought it was watching him pee on her face while she tried to control her impulse to move out of the disgustingly hot stream running over her eyes and lips. But most times I decide that it’s the fact that although he had sex with several women on this particular tape, pissing on the fourteen year old was the only thing that really got him excited. That’s just creepy. Almost as creepy as the amount of time I have spent thinking about that disgusting tape.


The R. Kelly verdict
R. Kelly’s decision to videotape his illegal and unsavory sexcapades has made it clear to the world that he is a criminal and a sexual deviant. It did not, however, manage to convince a Chicago jury of twelve that he should be convicted of any of the 14 counts of making and owning child pornography that he was charged with. I can’t say that the R. Kelly verdict surprises me. I am, however, impressed that the classic “it wasn’t me” argument of Shaggy fame actually worked. At one point in the video, R. Kelly puts his face about six inches away from the camera and his unmistakable face is, well, unmistakable.

I can’t decide how to feel about the R. Kelly verdict. I want to be angry that such a flagrant pervert escaped the long hand of the law, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe it’s because I appreciate the fact that money is finally buying justice for black people like it has been for white people. Or maybe I just have trouble turning my back on my favorite childhood musicians. Am I crazy to wonder why the parents who brought their children to R. Kelly and Michael Jackson’s houses aren’t being put on trial? Why would you allow your 13 year old daughter to hang out at a grown man’s house? R. Kelly didn’t even have an amusement park.