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“Who can really stop a black god dying to be white?”

Every writer thinks they’re brilliant, and then Ta-Nehisi Coates comes along and shows how the grown-ups do it. This is about Kanye West and many other things, and it’s just astonishing.

And he is a god, though one born of a different time and a different need. Jackson rose in the last days of enigma and wonder; West, in an accessible age, when every fuck is a tweet and every defecation a status update. And perhaps, in that way, West has done something more remarkable, more amazing than Jackson, because he is a man of no mystery, overexposed, who holds the world’s attention through simply the consistent, amazing, near-peerless quality of his work.