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Death Of Rap, Part 243
Cinematical reports that Ice Cube, who once had a promising career as a man with integrity, is set to star in an adaption of a comic book.
Smell that? It’s the last of Ice Cube’s fans burning their NWA albums.
Cube’s most recent offering of his tender anus to The Man caused me to reflect on the total whorishness of rap’s first wave of so-called “ghetto poets.” Just like some pathetic welfare bitch, they have proved themselves eager to take whatever load they can in order to stay on the government dole.
Why Don’t They Just Fuck Too
Cartoons turned into movies equal big bucks these days. The studios are trying their hardest to turn every good cartoon from my childhood into a bad movie. Looks they have found another one and this one may be the worst one yet. What cartoon could they possibly be ruining next?
Going Gay For Box Office
In our Summer Movie Tournament, the knowledgeable film fans all pick Rush Hour 3 to finish in the bottom of the heap among summer blockbusters.
Well, except Eric. But remember … I said knowledgeable.
Apparently Rush Hour 3 “director” Brett Ratner can read the proverbial handwriting on the wall, because he is pulling out all of the stops to promote his latest theatrical crotch-stain.
Hollywood Elsewhere points us to an article in The Advocate in which Ratner - who is never one to pass up an opportunity to embarrass himself and those associated with him - cheerfully talks to the gay and lesbian magazine about gay sex. More specifically, his involvement in it.
Kevin Smith Insults Himself
Kevin Smith might be one of my least favorite filmmakers, and he is definitely in the top three most overrated filmmakers ever.
He is probably reading this and preparing an attitude-filled rebuttal filled with “witty” comments like, “Dude, if I wasn’t so busy fucking your wife / sister/ boyfriend / childhood teddy bear, then I could count all of the money I have made as the worst filmmaker of all time!!!
The simple fact is that Smith’s movies are generally lazy, and they needlessly attempt to shock in order to make an impression. This approach provided him with the level of success he achieved - whatever. But the end in this case does not justify the means.
Every year since 1994, Smith has been invited to Comic Con, regardless of whether he has an upcoming project (usually he doesn’t) because the geeks at the convention like to think he is their hero. They sit in glittery-eyed wonder as Smith spouts off rambling, profanity-laden rants and name-drops their favorite comic book heroes and stars.
At this year’s convention, Smith - who had no reason to be there other than collect a paycheck and receive undeserved praise and adoration - was heckled by some guy about the repetitive nature of Smith’s film career. Smith did not take this - unlike most other things - lying down:
