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It used to be that you could always count on a good Rick James joke. But lately, James has become such a parody of a caricature of a spoof that the once-fertile comedic soil has been tilled fallow. Really, how many more jokes about crack pipes do we as a society need? I once played a video game in which the pixelated protagonist, a wisecracking gecko, quipped, “This place is weirder than Rick James’ place on the Fourth of July.” Dave Chappelle’s oft-quoted “I’m Rick James, bitch!” has become the “Where’s the beef?” of the new millennium. Reportedly, even RJ himself is saying it on stage these days. And it’s only a matter of time before sick someone sets the leash-wielding Lynndie England slide show to “Superfreak.” Since James can’t be taken seriously on his own terms, it’s a good thing he’s got old protégée Teena Marie around to lend him some cred. Critics love her: Village Voice music editor Chuck Eddy placed her Emerald City in his list of top 500 heavy-metal records of all time—at No. 9, no less! Though her white skin will always draw comment, her talent and body of work make race irrelevant. Her newest release, La Doña, is on the Cash Money label, better known for N’awlins-style crunk. She teams up with Mr. Walking Punch Line (pictured, back in the day) on the disc for “I Got You,” which is actually pretty tight, though nothing’s ever going to touch “I’m a Sucker for Your Love.” Doors open at 8 p.m. Friday, May 28, at DAR Constitution Hall, 18th and C Streets NW. $62. (202) 397-7328. (David Dunlap Jr.)