The Mailbag, Four
Subject: YO Eighth Wonder
You are not producing any songs of late. Maybe its time to pass the
torch. I've been working on my freestyle for a few months now. Let
me in on some pointers you might have on rapping. For instance,
how do you get an ill voice?
The Illest New Comer: DaNEWComer
Dear DaNEWComer,
One has to ask what you'll do when you have been rapping for longer than a few months. Will your name still be relevant if you are no longer this so-called newcomer? It seems like your name has its days numbered, unless you plan on changing it biannually. DaKindaNewComer. Maybe after a few months, you'll lose the whole "Da" business and hit us with the real. The real diction, that is. "The Newcomer-Kind-of-But-Not-Really-Anymore." Anyway, just some ideas for you.
How you get an ill voice is totally up to you. It doesn't really matter what your voice sounds like, as evidenced by Eninem's nasal rise to success. You need only two things: Confidence and an accent. Notice that there is no rapper who doesn't have a heavy urban accent. The first thing you need to know about rapping is that you must fear the letter R. Never say "year". Say "yea". That's your first lesson.
Secondly, when you rap, you must move your hands even if it has nothing to do with what you're saying. Waving your hands is essential; I cannot stress that enough. This is always done no matter who you are. The standard motions are chopping and waving motions. When I practise these gestures, I like to envision several floating blocks of wood that I'm about to karate chop apart, but with the conviction that I have to wave hello to them first.
Thirdly, the flagrant use of Ebonics is fundamental. Use slang terms you don't understand. Then couple them with slang terms that you made up. Say things like, "Yo, I'm a buy your pineapple, dog" as if it meant something menacing.
Do these things religiously and you'll turn out fine.
Subject: Hello
I heard a lot of New York apartments are made of brick and have tall
ceilings.
Sue, Tokyo
and
Subject: I saw the picture of...
... you and your sister on the 23rd. You two look alike and are very cute.
She seems quite a bit shorter than you. Unless you're just really tall.
Jessica, California
Dear Sue and Jessica,
First of all, Sue, may I commend you on having the most exciting.. email.. ever. Yes, my ceilings are pretty tall.
...
Uh, I can't speak for other apartments, though. I think my ceilings have something to do with my landlord. Her name is Judith and, judging from where she hung the bathroom mirror, my guess is she's 6' 7".
So, in a way, Jessica, you're right: No, I'm not really tall, but yes, my sister is a quite a bit shorter in general -- not only when compared to me. She takes her height from my mom: During my mom's stay in New York, she routinely took a chair from the kitchen with her to the bathroom so she could stand on it and see herself; when my sister came to visit, she, being a little less resourceful, didn't see what she looked like the entire time.
I think my sister is five foot two. If she were here, she'd insist that she is five foot two and three-quarters. I'm not saying this isn't true; I'm just saying this doesn't make her, or me, tall.
Subject: Dear 8W
What an idea for your serious site? Why don't you write something
with more world relevance? Like don't you want peace and posteriority
in the world? Write that in irrevcaoble.
Your last one was how shall I say it,,,,,, boring.
Sam the Increible
Dear Sam,
Your grasp on the English language is increible. And you're right, Sam, I want peace and posteriority in the world. The more posteriors the better.
Subject: Why
Why the **** are you such a ******* generalizing *******. I'll order
Froot Loops cuz I want them, andcuz I dont want a whole box. I shell out the
******* five dollars cuz it's none of your business. **** ***.
Unknown, Nowhere
DaNEWComer, this is also another method of freestyling, where you throw in as many unpublishable words as possible when you are feeling particularly inadequate with the point you're trying to make. As you can see, people take their breakfast very seriously.
Several recipes have come into my inbox from caring readers who have been keeping up to date on my News of the Day cooking ventures. I am a little off-set by this recent flux of nice mail.
First of all, nine out of the ten recipes I received involved me needing to use the oven. The one principle I stand by when I cook is that the oven door never opens. This is mainly because I am easily swayed by peer disapproval, and the moment any of my boys sees me baking, I will never hear the end of it.
Baking, for some reason, is not manly. I assume it's because baking is predominantly a female thing. You never hear your boys tell you that they spent their weekend baking muffins. No one will come right out and say it, but it's just not done.
When I cook I am only doing two things: boiling or frying. I'm just saying it like it is. You give me uncooked food and I'm either boiling it or frying it. I'm not one to romanticize cooking with my friend the thesaurus; I don't sear, simmer, sautee, percolate, or stew. If I put it on a pan, I'm frying it; in a pot, I'm boiling it.
I came to this realization when I had a friend over for dinner one night. I made shrimp pesto. My dinner guest seemed impressed with this. But when a mutual friend called and asked what we were having, my guest said, "Pasta." Pasta. That bothered me to no end. "Anybody can make pasta," I thought. "Saying I made pasta is like saying I know how to boil water."
That's when I evaluated what I did to the pasta that was so special in the first place. Nothing. I boiled it. The shrimp? I fried it.
When I realized that the only thing left was baking, life was fine from that point on.
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