The Way Mulattas Make Me Feel: Michael Jackson’s Domination of the Feminized Other
Michael Jackson is standing on a darkened street corner. Out of the mist appears a caramel-complexioned woman with long brown hair and a short black skirt, who struts across the concrete in high heels. Instead of stopping to give the King of Pop the attention he deserves, the woman passes him by with a sideways glance. A gruff voice off-camera chuckles at the diss. MJ turns and delivers a bad-ass, ear-splitting, “Hey!” Everything stops; the woman looks afraid. So begins... Read More
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