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 8 Mile Wiggerfest: Honky Emcee Hunt 2002 by dr. new agey (as appeared on the  forum)Finally, an Eminem bio-pic with all the right exaggeration. Wiggers have a spokesman and his name is B-Rabbit. (And Mother-fuck the Free World!) 54 million this weekend and probably another fifty-foe next week-end once the new jacks catch on. A few thoughts: -On Friday night the (T)ime (V)ampire Box was absolutely saturated with the King of All Wiggers. Entertainment Tonight, VH-1, and TRL. I think I even saw Marshal creepin' on Oxygen. (I am Oxygen, biotch.) -The original plan was to find a mall theater where we might find the elusive suburbus-wiggerustus-in-moms-automobilus in his natural environment. Somewhere date worthy, when your idea of a romantic night on the town includes Dippin' Dots, scratching the box and smoking Newports next to the dumpsters behind J.C. Penny. This proved impossible since the Stonestown Mall Theater was playing My Big Fat Greek Wedding (what were you thinking?)  - I ended up going to the Century Theaters off of John Daly Blvd in Daly City with two very wiggeratronic disillusioned American rap guys and one punkrocking Austin Powers fan. And of course myself, the self-proclaimed Ken Burns of wiggerdom. -Two forties of Bud and quite a bit of weed. -Wiggers in Daly City? No, not really. A few sprinkled throughout the crowd of 8th graders, but mainly Fila-pino primi-sortaemcees and some thuggish young eses. 6 shows. All of which were sold out. -Remember what junior high was like when you thought silk boxers were a really good idea? Yeah, well I was reminded very quickly. One wigger was really taking advantage of his peoples day in the sun by getting a little forceful groping/hardcore frenching on with his girlfriend of two and half days in front of Jamba Juice. We spent about 30 minutes just basking in the Eminemed flav. -Pepsi Blue: All the fun of Blueberry Blowpops in liquid form. -Many of those turned away from 8 Mile opted for Jackass. Seemed appropriate. These people could be picked out of the crowd by their incessant shoving and flat tiring. -20 minutes was spent yelling at all potential wiggers- "8 mile is sold out, wigga! WANNA CYPHA?!" from my car. -smoked more grass, decided on the 12 midnight show at the Century Theaters on Van Ness in the City. -Side note: Anybody ever checked out Tony's Joint on Van Ness across from the Theater? Incredible sandwiches and $2.00 draws? Looks like TGI Friday's from the year 1933. A must see! Delish. -12 midnight, a packed house, and the anticipation for the King of All Wigger's Motion Picture debut was ripening like a week-old carved pumpkin in the hands of juvenile delinquent. -The Emcee posturing pre-show was astounding. A large wigger in front of me practiced his dope rhymes at a strange volume as if to say "It's an everyday thang when you let your nuts hang.". Many posed with cell phones and I eagerly imagined a post-show freestyle battle in the parking garage complete with lead pipes and chains a la Double Dragon.  -Many smart alecky remarks from intoxicated 19 year olds fresh from a blunted afternoon watching The Bassment on BET. (Jin is on Ruff Ryders?!?!?) When 8 Mile began, the atmosphere quickly turned very serious and determined. As if we were all watching an instructional video on how to kill a man with only a ball point pen. -Eminem's performace was suitable and understated, with only a few moments of corn-ballism when he goes a bit too far protecting his young sister as if she is the apple of his hard core rapper eye. He also stares into space a lot. -The film is worth seeing if only for the brief scene where Eminem (B-Rabbit) serves Xibit in a steel plant lunch line, acting as if he is the ultimate protector of the homosexual. Ahhh how times change. -Eminem delivers some very hilarious battle rhymes, many of which reflect the underlying wigger hatred of hip hop in that time period. Just imagine Rocky if it was about Freestyles Battles in Detroit circa 1994. -Mobb Deep Shook Ones Pt. 2 plays a most prominent role as the underlying anthem for Em's success. Trife life gawds, trife life. -You don't get to see Brittney Murphy naked. -While exiting the theater, two wiggers disguised as indie rockers had the following conversation: "Man, you know if you didn't have the vast knowledge of hip hop like we do, I don't think you'd get a lot of that movie. Like my parents? NO WAY, dude!" Friend of Indie Rock Joe says "Oh yeah man, other people would have totally not understood what was really going on there!" Hey you guys cop that new J5? -My mom called me on Saturday to tell me she had gone to see the film on her own volition, postulating that "When Eminem goes mainstream he's really going to have a hard time coming up with things to talk about. I mean he won't be able to rely on this poor white bad boy image." NO WAY, dude! |
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