Beyonce crosses the Madonna Horizon

Beyonce has, after a period of silence, turned her attention to the most famous elevator fracas since that doctor discovered Damien's blood was like a jackal's.

That she's bothered at all is disappointing; like Thor, the mighty God of Thunder taking time out his busy schedule to explain a hailstorm in Chislehurst last summer.

But she's decided to rap about the scuffle between Solange and Jay-Z. So, what was going on, Beyonce?

We escalatin', up in this bitch like elevators
Of course sometimes shit goes down when there's a billion dollars on an elevator

First of all, as explanations go, this doesn't hold water - I'm pretty certain that if Solange had got out at the next floor, there would still have been a billion dollars in that lift, and there wouldn't have been a shin-kicking farrago.

But let's take Beyonce at her word, because this is a sad, historic moment. The point where Beyonce has become so rich and famous and powerful that she has forgotten how to be relatable. The point, then, where she crossed the Madonna Horizon.

On this side of the Madonna Horizon, Beyonce would have been rapping about families, and how you know what families are like, and what can you do, eh? But once across the Madonna Horizon, you turn into this:

Scientists believe that as you pass through the Madonna Horizon, you're suddenly convinced that the world wants to see a photo of you being taken from behind by Vanilla Ice.

So, then: now we know. If you put rich people into a confined space, there's going to be an almighty scrap. This is why you don't see billionaires on the tube, by the way: imagine if three bank CEOs got in the same carriage on the Underground. It'd be carnage before you got out the station.

Naturally, the richer you get, the further you have to keep apart. Bill Gates and Warren Buffett are forbidden from being in the same state, as with all that cash just a few miles apart could trigger an earthquake.

It's our fault, people. We've given all this money to the Knowles-Z family. In effect, we're no better than medieval peasants forcing chickens to fight for our entertainment. I hope we're all ashamed.