Leonard Pitts Jr.: We shouldn't be shocked over 'Beyonce-gate'

BY LEONARD PITTS JR. Published: February 1, 2013
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Barack Obama was inaugurated for his second term last week.

I mention that only because there's a good chance you missed it. That news, after all, was overshadowed by an apparently more important story out of Washington. It was a story that, according to the New York Daily News, caused the public to react in “outrage,” a word The Daily Mail in London echoed. One poor fellow tweeted that his life was “shattered” by it. And a local anchor in D.C. even affixed the dreaded scandal suffix: “gate.”

Beyonce-gate, I believe she called it.

As in Beyonce Knowles-Carter, the pop chanteuse who, it was revealed last week, lip-synced her showstopping performance of the national anthem at the inauguration, thereby causing earthquakes in diverse places, cats to mate with dogs, blood to rain from the sky and the Earth to begin a slow spiral into the sun.

Ahem.

We are not gathered here today to defend the lady. Or, for that matter, to bury her.

No, we are gathered only to say that, putting aside the high-profile setting of her chicanery, what she did is hardly unique. It is, to the contrary, a sign of the times.

Ours long ago became a culture in which the end justified the means, even if the means were misleading or downright duplicitous. Fakery is now an everyday artifact of our lives, as witness the debacles of Lance Armstrong, Mark McGwire, Jayson Blair, Jack Kelley and the U.S. economic meltdown. Indeed, we should probably be grateful Beyonce at least lip-synced to her own voice.

Milli Vanilli, you may recall, did not.

I went to my first concert in 1973, and remember being disappointed that the songs did not sound exactly like the records. What I came to understand — and appreciate — was that a live performance was a different animal than a finished studio product. In live concert, the singer was working the proverbial high-wire without a net, showcasing his raw talent in an unforgiving environment where there were no retakes or edits, producing a spontaneous, never-to-be-recreated moment where anything might happen and sometimes did. It was an act of artistic daring.

The key word in all of that being, “was.”

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