First off”¦an apology. In over two years on the Bootleg Beat, I’ve never straight no-showed a column. I’ve been late. I’ve taken a week off (with advance notice), but no show? It was all work-related, which I’ll get into more next week. For now”¦guess who’s back? Back again”¦!
— Jalen Rose
(Thanks to longtime Friend of the Bootleg, Josh Da Cane for digging up the quote of this young year.)
Welcome back to The Bootleg. Let’s see”¦take a week off and The Pope dies. Yeesh, I haven’t felt this guilty since The Salemi Bros. killed ESPN.com’s Ralph Wiley…10 days before his actual death:
“I absolutely cannot finish any of this guy’s columns on ESPN Page 2. It’s like trying to read one of my old 8th grade papers that had to be at least 10 pages so I filled it with 9 pages of bullshit that I would be horrified to read the next day. What is this guy talking about?
I love how ESPN lists all the books he’s written and how many Sports Illustrated cover stories he has to his credit as if to say “well, he came highly recommended, we didn’t have time to check it out though”. Thinking about his columns almost turns me into Scott Peterson.”
Speaking of Scott”¦the last couple of weeks have been like my own personal death sentence, kids. Except in this case, the flimsy circumstantial evidence against me has taken the form of a pair of high ranking officials at my company.
If you’re reading this on Friday morning, I’m probably sitting about 20 deep in a cost-review meeting for a $15 million dollar proposal that is scheduled to go out the door early next week. For several hours, various vice presidents bat around business buzzwords caked with a cacophony of catchphrases:
“We’ve got to get smart on this product line in advance of the suspense date. Our core competencies are critical to keeping our company”¦”
Well, you’ve all seen The Office on NBC or watched Office Space on Home Box Office. It’s pretty much the same thing, except with, y’know”¦a Black character.
Three days ago, I attempted to schedule the cost-review. It took some managerial massaging, but I got every signature I needed in the same conference room at the same conference time. And, then came the emails”¦none quite as bizarre as the first one:
“I have to take my daughter to court in the afternoon. Can you re-schedule for Friday morning.”
Well, I think we know the gift he didn’t get for Christmas. I moved the meeting to 9:00 AM, only to find another email waiting for me a few hours later:
“We don’t have the pricing data that we need to complete the estimate. Move the meeting to Saturday.”
Saturday. For a half-dozen VPs with their own parking spaces and a peculiar preference for cell phones fastened to the fat end of their belts. Now, I’m not sure what middle-aged white men do in their spare time (besides reading D’Errico or dating Lauren Woo), but coming in on their off day is the last thing they wanna do.
And, do you know the second-to-last thing they wanna do? Me neither”¦until I tried scheduling the meeting for 5:00 PM on Friday.
The best part was that I got chewed out by our company President and sector Vice President. And, when you work for a company that employs 2,000 people, all of the executives outsource their outrage”¦to their secretaries.
Nothing against the profession. Hell, if answering phones and making copies were easy, Rob Schneider might still have steady SNL skit work coming his way. It’s just that there’s something wrong with coming home to my wife and telling her that a 60-year-old secretary named Myrtle”¦embiggened with the backing of her boss”¦had emasculated the entirety of my essence.
I felt like a darker Doug Christie. Now, let The Goodness bring you to the light.
Black People Have Funny Names
Y’know”¦deep down, I actually feel for C-Murder. Sure, he’s a sorry excuse for a rapper and is arguably the biggest biter off of both Tupac’s cadence and catalog”¦but, his recently spotlighted legal woes have had at least one unfair effect.
See, y’all”¦when Bill Maher is making the same, tired “The man’s name is C-Murder“¦!” jokes, it’s time to move on. But, not before announcing that Mr. Murder is changing his professional name to “C. Miller”, based on his given name “Corey Miller”.
Umm”¦yeah. So, help me out on this one”¦is this a case of too little or one that’s too late? Or is it a little from column A and a little from column B? And, the reason he’s changed it? In his words, so that he can finally “receive some justice”. Well, since no one else will say it, I guess it falls on me.
Justice? N*gga, you missed that bus.
You’re in jail. You were once C-Murder, but now you be a murderer. Hell, if you ask me, you should keep your name, son. If, for no other reason, than to show the world that there are still stage names out there that reek of reality. Even if there are a few that don’t.
Y’all Were Hitting the Wrong Guy
Two Saturdays ago, an all-access autograph session with Kanye West was abruptly ended when a Kanye fan fought with security. The man allegedly tried to cut in line, which surely infuriated the turnout of Abercrombie & Fitch fellows who inexplicably crave Kanye’s Kool-Aid. West’s bodyguards backdoored him out of harm’s way and onto a scheduled show where he performed without incident.
Y’know, I’ve never quite understood the allure of the autograph. I mean, it’s really just a scrawled signature”¦unless there’s a story behind it. About 15 years ago, I met former Los Angeles Raider cornerback Lester Hayes at a card show. Who? Just trust me on this”¦with today’s wall-to-wall sports media, Hayes would’ve been the second coming of Deion Sanders.
Hayes was brash, flamboyant and, most importantly, had a great nickname. Anyways, he was reduced to charging $2 for an autograph at this point and a small child, no more than four or five-years-old was in front of me. He handed Lester what looked like a sheet of stock scratch paper that’s handed out before a Scan-Tron test.
But, the kid didn’t have any money. So, Lester wouldn’t sign!
This was better than the basketball skit with Ted DiBiase! But, there was a happy ending. I still have the 8×10 glossy he signed, “To Aaron, From Lester the Molester”. You’d be surprised how many people misinterpret that nickname.
Thanks, Amber Alert.
Same Gang”¦The Remix No One Wants to Hear
Snoop Dogg and comedian Steve Harvey have joined forces in an effort to unite the feuding factions that have been warring throughout the West Coast rap scene.
This past Wednesday, at an event called Protect the West, Snoop declared an all-encompassing end to his entire array of beefs and encouraged his Pacific Ocean peers to do the same. Other A-list rappers in attendance included Xzibit, The Game, Nate Dogg, Warren G., Young MC, The D.O.C. and”¦wait a minute.
“A-list rappers”?
Anyone know which one of ’em Warren G came down with? And, Young MC”¦? Well, it’s a good thing he was free! Can we assume that Coolio was off shooting his 16th episode of Celebrity (snicker) Fear Factor? Was Tone-Loc still waiting for Jim Carrey to return his telephone call for something that went down 10 years ago?
I suppose I could make fun of The D.O.C., as well”¦but, I’m guessing he had nothing to say.
Know Your Role? Hell, We’ve Seen it a Thousand Times Before
Isn’t it standard protocol for news like this to get hourly updates from our crack staff of marks, made up of mostly Matthew Michael?
Xzibit is in final negotiations for a supporting role in Gridiron Gang. It’s a flick about a probation officer who brings together a bunch of punk kids and juvenile hall habitants into a traveling youth football team that plays against the top high schools in the area.
Oh, and did I mention that former WWE star The Rock is reportedly on board in the lead role?
I, for one, can’t wait for the millions”¦and millions of glowing IP Movie reviews (each more effusive than the other). Here’s some unsolicited advice for potential viewers: if you liked The Scorpion King, you’re biased and shouldn’t have kids.
And, if you’re looking forward to Gridiron Gang, let me once again take y’all to school with the rules of Black Cinema. Here’s the entire movie in 100 words or less:
The Rock’s coach character is against the team, initially, and his players don’t like him either. The players don’t like each other all that much, but they’ll gel by the end of the first act.
They’ll have won the coach over at the 45 minute mark, but just when you least expect it, a player gets shot/sent to prison/knocks up his girl/knocks out his girl. Suddenly, forced to face the (all white) evil High School without their best player, Dwayne Johnson morphs into “Knute Rockne” (sorry) and wills his team to win.
Think of it as Drumline meets Sunset Park meets Wildcats meets your $9.50. Guess which one you won’t be seeing again?
Sometimes the News Just Writes Itself
What happens when ubiquitous fast food franchise McDonald’s meets”¦well, music?
Twenty years ago, the results weren’t pretty. And, today, the end product appears equally putrid as the Golden Arches are sponsoring a sweepstakes through The House of Blues.
Under the Are you MAC enough? tagline, our favorite mealy-mouthed MC (non-Mase division) has signed on for a series of shows to symbolize the synergy. Of course, we can only be talking about Fabolous”¦which doesn’t seem fair, since no one ever seems to know what he’s talking about.
His whole chipped-tooth, Black Boomhauer braying is lost on me, but not on our friends at Mickey D’s!
Am I the only one hoping that the Fabolous affiliation with McDonald’s results in the same mysterious circumstances surrounding the disappearance of a certain politician and a female aviator?
Nick’a Please
conceptualized by Nick Salemi
I’ve been gone for two three weeks on the DL. One imposed by Aaron Cameron losing my contribution from three weeks ago somewhere in cyberspace and the other imposed by Aaron Cameron because”¦the guy is busy what can I say.
Wife, kid, job, cat with no nose. You try keeping up with that and watching Oz and Law and Order on DVD and see how many hours are left in the day.
(For the record Oz came out in 1997 and was a cult hit THEN, not now, for those of you paying attention.)
This year, the Hip Hop scene has seen The Game (solid, but unspectacular) and 50 Cent (yawn). Now we have Beanie Sigel’s third album, The B Coming. After dropping a lethal mixtape last year with Green Lantern, Beans has risen from the ashes of the whole Def Jam / Rocafella restructuring, as well as his own misfortunes with the law, to produce possibly his greatest piece of work yet.
The B Coming has as good a production as you’re going to find, and we know the trend in Hip Hop is top notch production with half assed lyrics. While other MCs get lazy with hot beats, Beanie Mac turns up his game a notch. Feel It in the Air (produced by Heavy D, of all people) has been getting an insane number of spins and rightly so, as it is clearly made for the radio but doesn’t come off as cheesy or forced.
Hopefully, it will put Candy Shop out of business.
Beanie has a host of guest appearances but makes sure he doesn’t get outdone by any of them. Redman lends one of his patented cameos on One Shot Deal and Jay Z appears on It’s On, which has been circulating for some time but never released commercially.
Snoop stops by for Don’t Stop, which is a Neptunes-produced track that can only be described as Change Clothes meets Beautiful. Yeah it’s a typical Neptunes radio track, but to my knowledge no one’s ever been able to retire off of freestyles and “sh*t only 1000 people know about so it’s cool.”
What I’m saying is, give him a break, because you know it’ll be playing in Aaron’s Saturn.
As long as we’re giving people breaks can I get a break for not being able to tell the difference between the vocals of State Property members Oschino, Sparks and Peedi Crack (now called Peedi Peedi”¦must have done some soul searching on that one). As far as I can tell, they all sound like Memphis Bleek. Listen to track 12 (Tales of a Hustla) and tell me it doesn’t sound like Bleek.
The standout track is Bread and Butter featuring Grand Puba and Sadat X with production by Just Blaze. That alone should put you on alert but trust me, it’s just an unbelievable song with high replay value.
There’s also a bonus track Wanted with Cam’ron, which rides a loop from Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive, making it yet another “gotta hear it to believe it song”. I know it sounds like it has the potential to be corny, but they pull it off.
Damn that’s a lot of guest rappers. If there’s any doubt that Sigel can’t rock the mic himself, peep the Buckwild produced Look At Me Now.
Check out the best Hip Hop release in a very young 2005. Get out soon Beans (and stop doin stupid sh*t!)”¦Hip Hop doesn’t need any more of its few talented artists locked up.
General Haberdashery
So, you might’ve noticed something of a new look here in the Music Zone. No? Well, straight from our super-secret staff forums is music editor Matthew Michael with an explanation:
“As you’ll see from the current top story we’re taking on a littttttle shift in philosophy on IP Music. YES, we still want to cover big news stories, write kick-ass features, and review the best new CDs from mainstream to indie releases … but our strength is our writers.
That being said, if EVERY regular “columnist” (for now just those of you who have a scheduled weekly or fortnightly column) would post a link to their headshot on this thread, I’d like to do more of what we started today with Gloomchen’s face tied to her column.
The TV celebrities do it, why can’t our all-star columnists?
Why not, indeed? In fact, many of us should probably put a picture next to the words we write, if only to stem the oft-said Saturday speculation of, “Whaddya think Jeff Fernandez looks like?” With that in mind, I’ve once again gone to Mrs. Bootleg”¦armed with nothing but my fellow staffers names”¦and asked her, “What do you think someone named ___________ would look like?” In her own words:
Carlos Hernandez, that cute catcher that used to play for the Padres speculates on the Friday foo-chure of this here column. He also equates springtime with dating”¦and gas. Lil’ Jon and Fancy Feast are juxtaposed, whilst we’re updated on the dangers of mixing mixing (it’s intentional) with Memorex.
Like anyone from a boy band loves Hip Hop and wants to take it on a date to someplace like Olive Garden. This week’s highlight is the text thought balloon that shows he thinks profanity. Ooh, and his use of “white boy” is sure to alienate our own Nick Salemi”¦but, then again their own little mixtape exchange program has alienated me. (Sniff)
Christina Ricci writes an open letter to various members of the IP Music Staff on feedback, net feuds and her own damn boobs. Yeah, it’s last week’s work”¦and her mug has main evented the Music Zone for most of April, which means you’ve all probably read her for this week and last”¦But, c’mon”¦”Christina Ricci””¦”boobs””¦whaddaya waiting for?
He’s either a porn star or a pervert and he calls Kurt Cobain “overrated”, along with discovering new rap acts and offering up American Idol commentary. If that doesn’t win you over, there are two words that appear in this week’s piece that should’ve had you clickin’ 20 minutes ago: “fat nipples”.
Moodspins is still impossible to find on our main page, but I implore to read this piece on “Why the World Hates Americans”. Give up? It’s because of our candy bars. And, when did they start selling five kinds of Kit Kat? (There’s a New Mexico?!)
J.A.M. = the fourth in the line of short-lived novelty writing nicknames for a trio of Inside Pulse and 411 writers.
J is for Movie Joe Reid. He returns with harsh words for Red Sox fans. Harsher words for Brendan Fraser and his harshest criticism for Sin City. Just kidding”¦he loved it like the rest of you fanboys did. Hey, quick question, while watching Ebert & Roeper describe the movie and its characters in their review, Mrs. Bootleg had this question: “Is everyone in it playing a hooker?”
Oh, and be sure to check our Movie Joe Reid’s brand new blog. During a recent IM chat, Joe described it thusly:
I’m wondering whether I should publicize my new blog in (my column); if I do – more readers; if I don’t, I can openly mock 411 and IP writers with impunity; IMPUNITY!!
Hopefully, with fewer extraneous semicolons”¦
A is for me.
M is for TV Mathan. He admits to liking Jennifer Lopez, he bashes the Black Alec Baldwin and he picks Gilligan’s Island over Lost. By the by, fans of Lost owe it to themselves to hunt down a copy of last week’s Entertainment Weekly. It’s got a terrific bitter interview with the guy who played “Boone” and what he really thinks about his character getting the ax.
Junk Mail
It never fails.
Two weeks ago, an innocuous inquiry by one of my readers unexpectedly opened up the floodgates o’ feedback. A new regular feature or a one-shot cheap knock-off? Either way, you wanted”¦so, you got it”¦this is Ask a White Person.
I saw that you asked why white people love Outkast so much. I can’t figure it out either. All I can think of is that we scare easily and we like our African-Americans non-threatening and accessible. How else do you explain “Hutch” making $40 million in its first week?…D.N.
===
Why do we like Outkast? Easy”¦it’s because we were told to. There’s a handful of rap acts that the conservative mainstream has embraced and marketed as “acceptable”. Outkast, The Roots, Tribe Called Quest and, unbelievably, Kanye West, among others. Never mind that several of these acts have been recycling the same subjects in their own genre for years”¦anything with their name on it gets a pass from us”¦T.L.
===
What kind of white people do you know? Outkast is ass, plain and simple. Your boy Nick said a while back”¦their angle is that they dress up in weird clothes. That’s it. They feel up on the same lyrical booty that 50 Cent does and their videos have all the asses and thick thighs one might find from someone like Chingy”¦E.E.
===
Umm”¦not sure if you’ve checked the record sales, but everyone loves Outkast, not just white people. I’m not going to sit here and say that they’re as cutting edge or progressive as MTV and the Grammys seem to think they are, but in an industry that’s famous for its familiarity, it’s good to see anyone at least try to be different”¦P.L
===
Hey, you asked us why we tried to “give back” Mariah Carey to the Black Community. I think she came crawling back to you guys on her own, just like most entertainers of mixed heritage do when they can no longer sell out the suburbs. I mean, who knew that Linda Ronstadt was “Hispanic” until she serenaded Barney on “The Simpsons”?…S.T.
===
You got it all wrong. We actually traded Mariah back to the black community for the rights to Rock Newman and those PG-13 “rappers” that used to roll with The Nation of Domination”¦B.P.
===
Life With the Bootleg Family
March 30 has come and gone”¦and with it another Bootleg Guy Birthday is in the books. So, what better time for a little birthday gift analysis?
Foot Locker Gift Card: $100“¦which goes quite nicely with the $50 Foot Locker gift card from Christmas that remains unspent. Have any of y’all actually been in a Foot Locker, lately? Not sure how it is in other parts of the country, but here in Southern California, the white man has effectively been banned from the Foot Locker brand.
All that’s left are these sprawling shoe stores where black n’ white striped sistas with six-inch synthetic nails sell nothing but G-Units and Air Jordans. Those are the signature shoes from rappers and retirees, respectively. Sadly, I still might not have enough for a pair of either.
Best Buy Gift Card: $100“¦now, this is a little closer to my speed. The only problem is that I tend to blow it all at once and end up with more than a few things that I don’t really need. For example, I’ve bought three games and a memory card for my Playstation in the last three months. And, the next time I touch it in 2005 will be the first time.
Whoops”¦I’d better not say that too loud. I’m told we have a Games Zone here at IP and if they found out about my unused PS2, they might write a 10-part, 100,000 word series on it.
$100 in cash:“¦or, more precisely, a $100 bill. Yeah, see”¦here’s the thing. When you’re 10 years old, it’s cool to see one of these. It’s cool to hold it. After adulthood, it’s nothing but a nuisance. My bank doesn’t let me deposit cash through ATMs and I go to work before the banks open and leave long after they’ve closed.
So, now, I’m forced to check my wallet every five minutes to make sure it’s still there, while holding it underneath my arm and close to my ribcage whenever I pass a little old lady on the street. (Now, you know how it feels, Florence.)
It’s good to be back. I promise next week will be better. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
