Mo’Nique vs. DL Hughley: Pick a Side

I’m going to say my piece, and then I’m going to let it go. Fair warning: I may forget that I have an English degree and slip into my version of Ebonics.

If you’ve been paying attention, these two comedians are beefing right now. That’s not really accurate. Mo’Nique fired a shot heard ’round the world, and DL was on the other end of it.

There was a contract dispute over which of them would headline (close) at some show in Detroit. Both of them had contracts saying two different things. Fast forward: DL is set to close, so Mo’Nique uses her spot in the show to blow-torch the stage with her grievances and some very personal insults towards DL. I will not repeat any, and I will not show the clip, because nothing she said honored God.

For the record, I’m not a fan of either of these individuals’ comedic style. DL is too drunk, and Mo’Nique is too raw. I don’t know them personally; they may both be lovely people. That’s just me.

What I will say is that the video clip of her explosive rant makes her look absolutely deranged, which I thought she had evolved past. This is the same woman who honored Hattie McDaniel when she won her Oscar, chastised women for wearing bonnets in public, addressed people as “my brother” and “my sister”, and is defending the worth of Black women entertainers.

I’ve got enough deranged relatives. I don’t need to add her to my family tree.

You can pick a side if you want to. I will not. Not because there’s a kerfuffle over whose receipts are the right ones, but because I ain’t got nuttintadoo with this!

It’s a contract dispute. I didn’t write either version of the contract. I didn’t create or promote the show. I didn’t even pay to see it (thank God!). Your contracts and line-up is none of my business. Handle that in the office! Why are you fire-bombing the stage that other people paid to see you tell jokes on?

Be mad at the people who gave you and DL two different contracts. Be mad at the husband you call “Daddy” for singlehandedly ruining all the status that you could have had and whatever career you may have left. Be mad at your blessed self for being so volatile that nobody with good sense will ever want to work with you. What does any of that have to do with me (the public), who might have been inclined to pay to see you one day?

It’s a low-down dirty shame. But it happened for a reason. Let this be a teachable moment for somebody.

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