Eminem

Hey- you know what? There’s no need to pretend that Marshall Mathers III isn’t lucky garbage anymore. None.

Oh- he’s a skilled rapper, you say? Go suck his dick then. The motherfucker milked his ineptitude as a father and husband for nine albums. If he didn’t rap about beating his whore of a wife, then he rapped about being fucked up on pills. The gild is long since off the lily. He played himself in a glorified auto-bio movie directed by Curtis Hanson. He doesn’t need any back-patting from me on top of it. Fuck him and his mother.

Do you understand how stupid I feel for sticking up for this dykey-looking asswipe? What’s he doing presently, that’s a reflection of his blazing ability? Ah, I see- calling Trump a “bitch”. It takes one to know one, Marsh. Don’t strain your precious neck sticking it out so far. You rapped about killing Bush in ’04. You’re a broken record.

Eminem came in 83rd on Rolling Stone‘s 100 Greatest Artists of All Time. Rolling Stone knows art like a boar knows backgammon. That fucking shit-rag is two-thirds the reason anyone listened to Eminem at all, thanks to their relentless promotion of the emptiest, most asinine noise ever to be dubbed music. They put the Boston Marathon bomber on their front cover. The average hospital toilet flushes material of higher quality and intellect than Rolling Stone. 

Is Eminem’s daughter old enough to be a psychotic retard yet? What’s the effect on a young girl’s mind, of hit songs about her mother being violently beaten and murdered? Don’t tell me- she was “protected” from all that jazz. Sure she was. That’s why there’s clickbait with surprised headlines about how “normal” she turned out. I would sooner open my jugular vein with a potato peeler than hear another fucking word about any member of the Mathers family. I don’t even want to hear about the Beaver.

Remember when Eminem called himself “Slim Shady”, and made catty quips about Christina Aguilera blowing Fred Durst? How about when he goofed on certified basket case Britney Spears? Wasn’t our world made more beautiful by the glamorization of these Disney dog-fuckers and mattress-backed Mouseketeers? Is there a single goddamn decent song between the four of them? No. Regardless, they all got rich, fat and uglier. It’s all that talent and humility, plus the overwhelming musical skill. They fell back on it as gracefully as one slips into a septic tank.

You know why Dr. Dre never released Detox? Because he realized that the industry had saddled him with parasites in the form of protégés. Snoop Dogg, for all his faults, cut tracks that have endured as long as Dre’s have. If the D.O.C. hadn’t fucked his throat up in that car accident, he’d still be huge today. On Dr. Dre’s spectacular follow-up to The Chronic, 2001, Dre passes the mic to Eminem, and what does Marshall do? Start rapping about killing his wife again. Dr. Dre gave real depth to lyrics about murdering cops and rioting in 1992 Los Angeles. Eminem had BPD and weak pull-out game. Detox was de-balled before it ever had a chance, because too many wannabe MCs wanted in.

That’s the real problem. Whom did Eminem’s music inspire? More white rappers? Is there a shortage of rappers, of any tint? Who isn’t a producer at this point? It’s not even a competition anymore; it’s just imitators who seek to cash in by copying the latest sensation. It’s an ouroboros of yelling and anti-social behavior. Who gives a fuck? Twelve-year-old trailer dwellers who buy everything they own at Wal-Mart? When and why did their tastes become the norm? Forty years ago, those same kids would pick up a cheap guitar and learn to play. Now their mommies give them whatever music will distract them long enough to keep from shooting up their school. Enough is enough.

Normally I embed YouTube links in defense of the artist I useta like, to be fair, and illustrate what originally resonated with me. I don’t have the slightest recollection of what that was. Fuck it.