He Watch Channel Zero: A Letter to the New York Times
Dear Mr. Carter,
In your bullshit article that attempted to dissect the Flavor Flav celeb-reality phenomenon, you had this to say about my show, ego trip’s The (White) Rapper Show:
The follow-up show to “I Love New York” on Monday nights is “White Rapper,” an “American Idol” kind of elimination contest for would-be hip-hop stars with questionable street cred.
First of all, it’s called ego trip’s The (White) Rapper Show. Secondly, this show has jack shit to do with American Idol. This isn’t Amerikkka’s Great White Rapper Search starring MC Serch. There’s no telephone number for people to call in and vote people off the show. We’re in the position of power, you sourpuss. At all times, we decide who stays and goes. Yeah each episode comes down to skills but the show is about so much more than that.
No none of the ten rappers we assembled in the South Bronx over the past summer are ready to take Eminem’s spot at the top of the mountain right now. But they all have raw talent, a passion for learning about hip-hop culture and, most importantly, what makes for good TV: Interesting, strong and unique personalities. Nobody wants to watch 10 frustrated Rawkus-never signed white rhyme geeks standing in a cipher for 60 minutes practicing their metaphors. Save y’all boring-ass polysyllabic poetry for someone who cares, my brother. Word to your mother.
And as far as the notion of “questionable street cred”? Isn’t this the fuckin’ New York Times? Just ‘cause you got a couple of capable African-American employees on your payroll (Kelefa Sanneh and Lola Ogunnaike) doesn’t mean Bill Carter knows a fuckin’ thing about “street cred” or “what’s really hood.”And what superstar White MC ever had super street cred? Mike “I got the 9 on me” Diamond. The pistol packin’ Beastie Boys are in the house tonight. Tuck your gold chains in.
It’s obvious this imbecile never even watched my show to construct any kind of meaningful opinion about it. Listen I don’t care if you like my show or not. You can pump it or dump it. But don’t just throw something that means so much to me into an article that is just about coming-sideways at the network that airs our show. Heed the word of a yellow brother: Don’t judge a show by it’s cover, muthafucka.
Hallelujah (don’t) Holla Back!
P.S. Yeah ‘Net nerds, I’m back blogging. It’s me, bitches!
Next Time: Life After Idlewild: The Resurrection of MC Andre 3000