This one time I stumbled on to some Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta and oh, my God, what was that? I remember a fiery exchange and then, before I could tune out, there were fists and hair extensions in the air and everyone ultra pissed and I was hooked. At least for the rest of the hour. It was all just too brilliant and my chest ached because of it. Committing myself to another episode will for sure destroy me, I thought, and so that was the end of that.
Many of us don't mind welcoming doses of ratchet entertainment into our lives now and again. Whether we get our fix through music, television, or a classic Yeezy sermon the fact remains: These things, in some sense, free us. They provide an excuse for us to revel in another's stupidity, or plain boldness. Most of it is pretty mindless, sure, but I'd argue it's also necessary and helps us to decompress. Research paper stressing you out something serious? Boom. Mortgage due? Hold that.
And here's DJ Khaled talking about McDonald's because, well, DJ Khaled talking about McDonald's is what the streets need.
Music, specifically that of the ratchet order, affords us the opportunity to get completely ignorant and undignified for moments at a time. It doesn't matter who you are. OK, so you have a Master's Degree in Nuclear Physics, eh, hotshot? Splendid. Are you saying you don't wish you'd penned “Type of Way” by Rich Homie Quan? Of course you do. Everybody wishes it, two times.
Some people take it further than just the occasional ratchet binge, though. Like, they actually dwell in that space permanently, contented and without shame. If you want to smoke beedies all day like it's 93' and watch New Jersey Drive in your mom's basement, go ahead and live. Do you.
But for the rest of us—and because this has now been overly intellectualized enough—here is an arbitrary something of “turn up” happenings you can use as teachable moments. —Juan Vidal