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Bring Back “BET Uncut” – I Need My Tip Drill

By the time you’re reading this I should be en route to some nondescript spot in Mexico, hoping I don’t get kidnapped or the runs from their water. With my flight being extremely early in the morning, I needed something to do to keep awake so late. So I scoured the webs to watch an exorbitant amount of pr0n flipped to BET for the first time in a few months.

I hardly watch BET much anymore, save for their awards show back in June. Excluding the occasional Everybody Hates Chris rerun marathon (although Nick At Nite does them as well), I have no clue what comes on that network past that one season of College Hill where one of the cast members mollywhopped her roommate with a shoe or something. I can’t watch the network’s edited episodes of The Wire, since so much of it is censored to the point where you can’t follow the story, and I don’t fit the 106 & Park demographic, even when they interview the likes of El DeBarge and, uh, Free every once in a while.

Free > Rocsi. All day. Eh day.

I give about as much attention to that channel as I would a stripper with a bullet wound or c-section scar, which is to say not at all. Yet since they canceled their now-legendary show BET Uncut in an effort to “clean up their act,” I can’t help but feel that they lost a piece of themselves after.

As if selling the network to Viacom like it was the strongest super-slave at an auction wasn’t bad enough. But I’m straying from the point.

Part of what made that show so awesomely bad was its willingness to cater to the best of the worst of rap music which, as I’ve said a few times before, is definitely not a bad thing at all. Even the most staunch of rapster fans who can recite a Brother Ali album front to back has watched and/or enjoyed a music video from the likes of Mighty Casey, Joker The Bailbondsman and – my personal favorite – Black Jesus and his magnum opus to decadent opulence, “What That Thing Smell Like.”

If you really think about it, BET Uncut was, in its essence, an indie rapper’s wet dream: a means of getting on a largely distributed network without having to sacrifice integrity, or lack thereof, to do so. But – as is always the case whenever something becomes popular – when the mainstreamers took notice the show began to falter. Once Nelly swiped a credit card down that stripper’s ass in “Tip Drill” it was a wrap; the show no longer was for the backpackers grimeballs, and with every “P-Poppin’” airing the show seeped into the public conscience, implanting a target of scorn and contempt on its back and drawing the ire of every two-bit conservative hack, forcing BET to ultimately cancel the show.

Never mind the grainy, poorly produced videos, overall horrible songs and equally slovenly women; BET Uncut was essentially the Fat Beats for wack artists who preferred sleaze to aesthetics. While YouTube has largely taken its place there will never be another thing like the show, and we all lose because of that.

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