It's the Mrs. Carter Show World Tour Starring BEYONCÉ (her caps, in case you didn't catch on). Hey, they don't call her a diva for her humility. Frankly, there's a little too much Beyoncé in our Beyoncé these days, as she enters the Howard Hughes/Madonna/William Randolph Hearst/Santa Claus level of fame. She's shoving Pepsi in our faces, shoving her perfect life in our faces, just shoving her face in our faces. Her Beyoncé-approved face, that is—no potentially ugly photographs are allowed on the Internet. Just when we're ready to swear her off for good, we hear her voice, see her dance against a giant video screen. 4, her last album, was brilliant and almost subtle. There's no room for that hushed vibe here; her latest material is brash and bossy. It's all thighs, thighs, thighs, heels, heels, heels, Beyoncé, Beyoncé, Beyoncé. Of course, we still want to pay to see the circus.