A Few Choice Words for Beyonce: Stop It Already

I am mad as hell at the smut being shoved in my kids' faces every day from every corner of our decrepit, sex-obsessed culture. You are part of the problem, Beyonce. In fact, right now you could be the poster child for the Problem.

You are a prodigal daughter squandering every good gift God has given you, beginning with the dignity of being His daughter. You were not made to spew forth trash into the world. Your talents were not given you so that you could profane them and yourself, and certainly not so you could get rich flinging dung.

WASHINGTON, D.C.
(Catholic Online) - Reader warning: This article includes some explicit and offensive song lyrics.

Dear Ms. Knowles,

Let me come directly to the point. Stop peddling filth to our kids.

I know you are surrounded by people who tell you what you want to hear, and continually gush in awe of your stardom and physical beauty, but is there anyone in your life who will look you in the eye and ask, "What in the world are you doing?"  Do you have someone who will be brutally forthright with you?

You are flinging dung far and wide. Yes, you are. I stomached as much as I could stand of your song, "Partition", and the only word for that is filth. How can you possibly be proud of putting that garbage out into the world?

Driver roll up the partition please
I don't need you seeing Yonce on her knees ...
Oh he so horny, yeah he want to f---
He popped all my buttons, and he ripped my blouse
He Monica Lewinsky-ed all on my gown

Take all of me
I just wanna be the girl you like, the girl you like

You're a mother now. You have a little girl. Is that what you want for your little girl? You want her to think that way, talk that way, and act that way? Do you want her singing those lyrics when she's 10 or 11 years old?

You think she'll be proud that her mother's on her knees giving oral sex in the back of a limo?

You want to teach her that the most important thing is that she's the girl he likes, no matter how she has to degrade herself?

I am mad as hell at the smut being shoved in my kids' faces every day from every corner of our decrepit, sex-obsessed culture. You are part of the problem, Beyonce. In fact, right now you could be the poster child for the Problem.

You have not the faintest idea what real feminism is, or what real equality means. You degrade yourself with lurid displays like your recent exhibit at the Grammy's and your latest video, which is nothing short of pornography. Is that really your idea of female empowerment?

Like so many other female pop stars, you have taken your feminine genius and sullied it with the most base and repugnant filth -- none of which, by the way, is even the slightest bit imaginative or original. It's just the same old recycled filth.

The fact is, there is no art in what you're doing. Art should enrich the soul. That verse above? Yeah, no one is being enriched by that. No one in the world benefits from smut.

You could be elevating the masses with your considerable gifts. You could be an inspiration to so many young women. What a force for beauty you could be!

Instead you are complicit in stealing our kids' innocence and dignity. Your "music" is more fuel on the fire as our culture burns to the ground. You profit from selling sex, and you know darn well that young people -- yes, kids -- are the ones buying.

I get it -- you've got the Obama's on speed-dial, and that makes you a power-player or something. Michelle Obama says you're a role model for her daughters, so that must mean it's all okay. Wrong. It only means our elite ruling-class is as morally bankrupt and corrupted as the "music" you produce.

Enough already with the hyper-sexualized and dehumanized version of women being glorified by music and videos like yours. It's scandalous that young girls listen to you, and watch the porn you call a music video, and want to emulate you. They want your life.

Worse, they want what they see in your videos. They think hanging from a stripper pole in a jewel-studded thong is what it means to be a woman. They eagerly hand over their innocence and modesty and dignity for the illusion of power and success they think comes from unrestrained sex.

They grow up equating love with having an orgasm. They don't have a clue what love really is or how love acts, but they know sexy. They know that the guys expect them to perform and provide satisfaction.

They can't comprehend selflessly giving oneself to a spouse; they can't comprehend making love, but they sure do know horny. They know crude. They know exploitation. They know how to use and take and be used and taken. They're learning at the feet of the masters.

And not just girls, but our future men as well. Boys grow up thinking of women as a score, a thing they can use for pleasure. They don't see women -- their perfect, complimentary match, equal in dignity and worth -- they see a walking vagina and big boobs in a push-up bra. They see a body with parts that titillate them and service their greedy sexual wants. They don't see a person. They don't value the feminine genius. Why should they?

You profit from all of this. You encourage and promote this exploitation. This is not some momentary lapse of judgment or isolated mistake. Countless hours, days, weeks, months have been spent intentionally producing this raunch-fest in order to make money and garner fame. And you shrug and call it entertainment. You call it "art", or heaven forbid, your "job."

In reality, you are a prodigal daughter squandering every good gift God has given you, beginning with the dignity of being His daughter. You were not made to spew forth trash into the world. Your talents were not given you so that you could profane them and yourself, and certainly not so you could get rich flinging dung.

I truly hope you realize you were made for so much more. I hope you come to your senses and return to your Father's house.

In the meantime, I want you to stop spewing pornographic garbage into our culture. Stop it. Stop selling lewd, vulgar, and obscene and start offering something beautiful and worthy. Worthy of yourself, worthy of your daughter, worthy of everyone's daughters and sons. Worthy of the gifts you were given.

Dad's on the porch, watching and waiting for you, Beyonce. Stop squandering your life making pig slop, and come home.

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Jennifer Hartline is a grateful Catholic, a proud Army wife and homeschooling mother of four children. She is a contributing writer for Catholic Online. She runs on dark chocolate and mochas. Visit her online at Wake Up, Deborah!

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