All RIGHT! It's high time we all gave straight-up props to our black brothas and sistahs. Think about it, honky! They give and they give and they give, and we take and we take and we take.

For example, we all know my continuing fascination with the booty, right? Well, who do you think turned me on to all that junk in the trunk? It sure wasn't those flat-assed whiteys I grew up with. Hell no! I was born and raised in a Footloose town, so the only booty shakin' I saw was a bunch of 45-year-old crackers in polka dresses draggin' their milky asses around the Lawrence Welk show. That is, until the beautiful day I sat down in front of the TV and witnessed my first episode of Soul Train.

And great God in heaven! Mine eyes were opened! A sea of chocolate-colored booty filled the screen, shakin', gyratin', and getting' biz-AY on that dance floor. Those asses was backin' up so far, I almost had to call in a tow truck. They were jammin' and jiggling to the strains of Kool and the Gang, and I couldn't help but drop to my knees and sing to heaven, "The Lord is my shepherd, and HE KNOWS WHAT I WANT!"

But as it turned out, it wasn't God who gave us Soul Train; it was host and creator Don Cornelius--a smooth black bruvvah who made Dick Clark look like a macaroni box stuffed with mayonnaise. I LOVED Don because he always looked like he just smoked 30 bowls of cheeb, and you could never understand a goddammed word he said. "Iszrah mascopoldisif," he would intone in that basso profundo voice. "Azza pleez weka da sweee SOUL stalins of... the Isley BROthers!!!"

And like Moses with an Afro pick, Cornelius split the crowd in two, forming the Soul Train dance line. One after another, nappy-headed soul chillun popped, locked, and body-rocked down the line; showing--nope, sharing--with America what it really meant to move that juicy fruit!

Which brings me to why I fawking hate MTV. While they've been smugly slapping themselves on the back for 20 years of "service," they can't stop for a second to drop some respect to the peeps who got them where they are today. MTV wouldn't even show black artists during the network's early years--but once they realized where the money was hiding? They were all too happy to slurp from the hiphop cup (as long as they could toss in some white non-dairy creamer to take the edge off that black joe).

Nowadays? Practically three-quarters of the honky acts that make it to TRL's top 10 owe their entire style to what Don Cornelius exposed to the masses. And how does MTV thank him?! By pressuring black artists to bypass the upcoming Soul Train "Lady of Soul" Awards so they can be on MTV's STOOPID Video Music Awards! AND THEY HAVEN'T SHOWN A GODDAMNED VIDEO IN 10 FREAKING YEARS!!!

Ouch. Okay, I've given myself another cerebral hemorrhage. But here's my point! If you are a true fan of the bootylicious black artist, check out Soul Train's "Lady of Soul" Awards--featuring Jill Scott, 3LW, Destiny's Child, and (sighhh...) Patti LaBelle--September 8 on the WB at 8:00 p.m. Or you can choose to watch MTV's Video Music Awards (September 6, 8:00 p.m.) and swallow the same old copycat shitbirds they've been cramming down your throat for years. The choice is yours! (But I swear to God, if you choose MTV, I'll never touch your booty AGAIN.)