December 5, 2006, - 2:44 pm
By Debbie Schlussel
****UPDATE: Printed Minstrel Mag, “XXL,” is not just stoopid, it’s anti-Semitic. Features column: “Diamonds Are a Jew’s Best Friend; Gruesomely Dismembered Africans? Not So Much.” ****
Since it’s my vocation and avocation to keep up with all segments of pop culture, I found myself “reading” (if you can call it that) the December issue of “XXL” magazine, which bills itself as “Hip-Hop on a Higher Level.” More like Hip-Hop on a slightly less low nadir.
I couldn’t help but notice that the spine of this latest issue read, “We’re So Evolved.” Just what is evolved about the glorified dope-smoking, coke-snorting, whore-pimping, eastside-westside, east coast-west coast, diamond grill-wearing, segment of society? Hard to tell. Even though hip-hop has its White fans, as I “read” through XXL I had to ask myself if this is what Martin Luther King, Jr. meant when he said “I Have a Dream.” Methinks this is his worst nightmare.
The magazine is like watching a glossy, printed voluntary minstrel show. Sick, sad, and a depressing statement on not where our society is headed, but where it already is. Reading the “Letters to the Editor” was amusing. No, more than that. I laughed my ass off. That these could be called “letters” or that there might be an “editor” were both dubious. The words used would make Michael Richards blush. (Surprise, surprise, some of the letter writers–XXL’s “readers”–are in prison, FYI.)
Here’s a sampling, in which I’ve inserted dashes where the full words are used:
[DS: Plenty of letters on whether or not thug rapper Tupac Shakur died or whether it's a conspiracy theory/evil plot by us Crackers; incredible]
At first I was very, very, very upset that you put Tupac’s autopsy picture in the issue commemorating the 10th anniversary of his passing. I have the feeling I wasn’t the only one who would be pissed off. So I sat back and stared at the poster I have of him giving the Westsidehand sign [DS: gang symbol] mounted and framed in glass. I feel that you should explain to your readers that, since he was considered our generation’s Black Jesus, his autopsy is our generation’s crucifixion.
Chingy is wack! HE sounds like a bitch getting f–ked on the mic. Luda [DS: rapper Ludacris] and DTP was the biggest thing on the first album. God made you! You didn’t do shit. Luda helped you make the name for yourself. You would’ve never sold three million without Luda. The song, “Right Thurr” [DS translation in real English: "Right There"] remixed with JD and Trina, helped your buble gum-stealing ass. You need to retire and leave rapping to somebody who can rap.
[on VH1's reality show about former Public Enemy rapper Flavor Flav picking a woman, one of whom was named "Hoopz":]
Now, what the f–k is that? Y’all f–ked that Eye Candy up this month. The broad Hoopz looks like a sho’nuff gump. I don’t know if it’s the make up or that short just looks like a n-gga from the nexk up. XXL, I expect much better because y’all Eye Candy history speaks for itself. Don’t get like Lloyd Banks and Snoop Dogg and start giving me bulls–t. I need that Buffie, Aundrea and Malia-type s–t.
West Baltimore, MD
What’s up with y’all and Hoopz? I so tired of seeing this flat-booty, big-headed, too-much-make-up-wearing-ass bitch. I’m locked up, and she don’t float a n-gga’s boat. This bitch look like a spoof of Stacy Dash [DS: the Black woman in the movie "Clueless"]. Quit putting her ass–or should I say, “no ass”–in the magazine. Please!!!
Ya’ll n-ggas at XXL must be on some f–kin’ crack. How the f–k you gonna give Method Man’s album “4:21 . . . The Day After” an L, but that big fat Bam Bam Bigelow muthaf-cka Rick Ross gets a f–kin’ XL? Mef should got an XL, at least That “4:21 . . .” album is just as good as “Tical 2000: Judgement Day.” [DS: Judgment is spelled with only one "e" in the English--as opposed to the hip-hop--dictionary.] Y’all n-ggas are going along with these radio n-ggas.
Fall River, MA
And one “letter” I sorta liked because at least it recognizes the downward deviance of hip-hop:
Rick muthaf-ckin’ Ross. This dude is all right, but he’s not real. He’s just another South hustler/rapper trying to get on by Jigga co-signing him. I think the album should’ve gotten an L, because this guy talks about the same s–t. Either he’s pushing coke or he’s riding in Chevies. Alert to all Southern rappers: Get creative! Rick Ross is an example of how you could tell hip-hop is dead. I can’t front–his album is all right because of the beats, but lyrically he’s garbage. Why does XXL hype these lame, fake rappers? The truth is, Rick Ross ain’t s–t. Upgrade those lyrics and stop telling the youth to hustle drugs, because that ain’t right. Another Jeezy. East Coast, please come back ASAP!
Yup, I could feel my IQ sinking and brain cells dying as I read through this magazine. America’s death via hip-hop.
Tags: 4:21 . . . The Day After, America, Chingy, Clueless, Debbie Schlussel, East Coast, editor, Flavor Flav, Hoopz, Jr., Lloyd Banks, Ludacris, Martin Luther King, Method Man, Michael Richards, Public Enemy, Public Enemy rapper, rapper, Rick Ross, Rosedale West Baltimore, Snoop Dogg, South hustler/rapper, Stacy Dash, the 10th anniversary of his passing, Tical 2000, Tupac Shakur, West Coast