1. The 2013 VMA’s Changed My Life
Up until I saw Miley strutting around in barely-there latex attire surrounded by stoned teddy bears, I’d forgotten what truly juices me to make entertainment. Yes I adore making people laugh, but stirring things up, the one indisputable REQUIREMENT for artists in my humble opinion, is what it’s all about. Miley made me remember the high schooler who saw Marilyn Manson storming the stage with his ass hanging out and found his nucleus of inspiration. I was surprised by how much I’d lost it up until that point.
2. The Kaufman Disciple in Me is Her Eternal Fan
The eye-popping vulgar surrealism of the VMA spectacle would have been enough for me, but for her to describe it as a ‘strategic hot mess’? Instant erection, especially with how everyone played right into her hand. This is Kaufmanism at its finest, made even better by the fact that it’s also entertaining all on its own. Flawless victory!
3. I Adore Her FOR the Freak Show
I wasn’t a fan before the transformation and became a pansy ass, drooling fanboy afterward. I absolutely loved everything about the new image and I may have to go as far as saying it inspired a large part of getting a cohesive vision of what I wanted Master Clown Shrooms to be. I wanted to murder anyone saying she didn’t need this, this was disgusting etc. because they seemed natural enemies of what I believed entertainment should be. There was such LIFE and vulgar absurdity to the whole thing that I was transfixed. I still don’t think there’s any better attire for MCS than a Bangerz era Miley shirt, period. I also adored the psychedelic candy-colored 60′s throwback of her following effort, but wonder if I will lose interest as she dismisses this and moves into more ‘normal’ territory. Will things come full circle as I feel as betrayed as her G-rated fans did when the twerking hit the fan?
4. What the Public Sees as Hip-Hop IS Horrible
One of the interesting things about getting older is understanding the conservative viewpoint more and more and man, rap music is a hell on Earth for women. As one who gets pulled towards the vehemently vulgar side of it, I should know. I seek out the deplorable and despicable. I certainly couldn’t blame ANY female for wanting to distance themselves from it, even one who dabbled in an askew version of it with songs and shtick as vulgar as what she is now disgusted by. As Chris Rock said: ‘I love rap music. I’m tired of defending it.’
5. We Don’t Need to Have the ‘THAT’S NOT HIP-HOP’ Argument
I know, I know. 99% of what we see in the public is not what we as fans want to have classified as hip-hop, but we’re too far gone. If you’re not a fan, what you see justifies the hate. What, are we gonna expect an angry 50 year old white man to go on YouTube and look up underground examples of poignant lyricism? No. I’m sorry, but the music has been represented horrifically to the public, and just like I don’t want to take the time to actually understand how the government works before bashing it, I can’t expect the same from the non-rap loving public. Their hatred and dismissal is justified.
6. I’m the White Devil
I know I personally don’t give a fuck about much, but as I get older, I’m forced to realize how much my ‘go-anywhere’ sense of humor will be tied into being a white man. Because I don’t care and no, you can’t hurt me. I’ll often think about what it’s like to be expected to have a reaction every time something happens that’s offensive to your culture. People could be marching through the streets right now with signs saying ‘ALL WHITES SHOULD BE MURDERED’ and I’d shrug and go, ‘So, blunt and a Godzilla movie?’ (in fairness, that’s my response to 95% of life). I’m the pinnacle of overprivileged and spoiled. Even if I don’t believe it, I have to be prepared for my casual nihilism being looked at as white privilege. This is what, I believe, is at the heart of all our racial tension – the fact that white people simply can’t understand the minority experience. As a button-pushing comedian, I must be aware of this.
7. Is the Freak Show She Unleashed Really Black Culture?
Again, if anything, I’d say it’s what mainstream America has been presented as black culture. I don’t know what race (other than shock entertainers) would want to claim what Miley’s Bangerz era produced as a proud tradition, but if I seem clueless or wrong on this, well, refer to number 6.
8. My Complicated White Boy Hip-Hop Love Story
All this talk about whites taking black culture makes me think of my own love story. The soft, nerdy, sexless, spoiled, bitch-made white boy who was introduced to rap music and LOST HIS FUCKING MIND. No female has made me fall that hard. But it was a double edged sword. I adored it, but knew it wasn’t for me at all, especially considering the thug-based music I REALLY went wild for (D-Block comes to mind). Nothing was more confusing than having a new reason to live and knowing it wasn’t meant for me. It was like finding the boyfriend you want to spend your life with when your father is Fred Phelps.
9. I Felt Truly Betrayed By Rap Changing
Because of the above sentiments, I kept my obsession to myself. I rapped silently in a corner and treated my ‘I’m gonna kill you’ lyrics as jokes between friends (‘Ha, I should never be saying things like this!’) I knew the game would never let me in, and that King Mathers had a background of being poor and tough on his side. I’d never be able to do what I loved so much, only, perhaps, if I found a comedic twinge to it. People like me didn’t get passes to this world. Then I heard Asher Roth. It felt like a stab through the heart. Here was everything I felt ashamed over being with a hit single. But that was nothing. Then the corny white boys flooded in and then the faggy ones, AND PEOPLE ACCEPTED THEM. How? WHY? This is why I stayed in the closet! There were RULES! You guys don’t care? We’re actually gonna let people like this get fans?! I wasn’t happy that I could fit in now – it sickened me! I mean, I’m a true fan of this! Or am I?
10. Verbal Columbine
What I found in rap was a way to do a school massacre using only your mouth. Where could I dump all this anger? How can I do it without going against how well-raised and soft I am? Then I discovered people with verbal cannons machine-gunning everything in sight. The flow, the cadences, the delivery, the punchlines, the anger, my lord! It was ATTACKING people verbally! Eminem showed me how to kill people without doing it. D Block showed me just how violent and brutal speech could be. What I fell in love with was the art of having a marriage between flow and beat and the anger that allowed you to get out. Lord Jamar’s comments about Eminem were beyond illuminating. Wait, there’s people who think rap is more than being as lyrical as breath allows while unleashing in a way you never thought possible? Oh, wait, it’s supposed to be about soul and hyper-lyricism doesn’t matter? Hmm. Maybe I’m not a rap fan. Maybe I pray at the altar of intricate and disgusting rhymes. Most people probably don’t understand how real the mumble rap hate is for me. One time I brought myself to near-tears AT WORK getting into an argument over Young Thug. Again, I felt betrayed. THIS IS NOT HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE. Fuck, I thought white boys were bad enough, now they’re not even SAYING WORDS? My passion runs DEEP, but maybe it’s just all about the intertwining of words and beats (enthralling!) and a release that virtually no other area of life allows (even more enthralling!) So in the end, I’m not quite sure how to classify my passion, nor my relationship to this music I love. Who knows? Maybe if I were in the public eye, ol’ MCS would be just another Miley Cyrus. I can only hope to do right towards the culture I, in some way or another, absolutely fucking love.