S
Excellent article on the point I always stressed - white people love Eminem so much because they can finally enjoy hip hop, without knowing (and hating themselves) that they are letting a dancing "nigger" influence them.
Eminem is a true talent - but I think there are MCs who are just as good or better - and are black who don't get a fair shake because they don't rap about stuff suburban caucasoids can relate to -and because they don't have Jimmy Iovine putting millions and millions into promoting them to whites. Faggots like tim won't like this article -
8 Mile Good or Bad?
by - David Hill of Albany, NY
11/12/02 9:14:27 AM
The most sickening moment in Curtis Hanson’s new movie 8 Mile isn’t the scene where Rabbit gets beat down by a crew of black thugs right in front of his hysterical baby sister. Nor is it the scene where Rabbit discovers his close friend and neighbor fucking his new girlfriend. It’s a scene meant to be touching, with all the elements of friendship, camradarie and solidarity. It’s a scene where Rabbits only white friend, a slower-than-most Cheddar Bob, is layed up on the couch in his mom’s house after shooting himself in the leg. He refuses to answer the door when his crew comes to visit him and see how he’s doing, but welcomes Rabbit through the back door after the others leave. When asked by Rabbit why he wouldn’t open the door for the others, he says “I didn’t want them making fun of me. You know Rabbit?” and Rabbit nods his head approvingly. He does know. It's HARD being white in a black world. It's hard taking criticism, being more closely scrutinized, having to learn to live in a world that isn’t yours. And its hard to be made fun of, to be the butt of everyone’s jokes. Man, black people sure can be mean.
The entire movie 8 Mile is a two hour treatise on white victimization in the black urban landscape. Its two white male characters, Rabbit and Cheddar, are constantly made fun of, and struggle hard not just to make it, but to be accepted by their black compatriots. The story, right up until its climax, is one of a white man’s conquest of a black, black world.
All the reviews and articles written since 8 Mile’s debut have been focused primarily on Eminem’s acting abilities (or lack thereof). Nowhere have critics tackled the question of whether or not race (or more accurately, racism) is what makes this film so provocative, so tantalizing, to white and black audiences alike.
Surely Buddy Rabbit is a lyrical genius, a prodigy the likes of which the hip hop world has never seen. Surely his race has nothing to do with it. We are supposed to accept that if Rabbit were black, he would be just as great.
But would he? Especially if one accepts that rap music is informed by experience. Especially when you look at how all the attention placed on Rabbit is placed on his race… by his enemies, by his friends, and by himself, and his own lyrics. Why is it that if Rabbit, or Eminem, can’t see past his own skin color that we are expected to do so?
To me, 8 Mile is a swan song for the thousands and thousands of white men who love hip hop but want to attack the notion that they are somehow, in the words of Ice Cube, “eavesdroppers” on this cultural expression they are so moved by. It is a movie that re-writes history, and places the boundary of hip hop not around a racial group, but around a class.
The final battle in 8 Mile pits Rabbit up against Papa Doc, a fierce MC and hoodlum who Rabbit discovers attended a private school outside of the gritty yet socially hip area code “313.” When Rabbit chastises Papa Doc by calling him “Clarence”, his real name, and calling out his suburban upbringing, the black crowd is instantly transformed to Rabbit’s side and boos Papa Doc off the stage.
This is clearly a white fantasy. To believe that hip hop can be yours if only you have the class status to claim it is false. Hip hop is a black thing, rich or poor. Its ironic that the same people who will be the first to say that hip hop is not a black thing will also claim that it belongs to EVERYBODY. If this is true, then why is Hanson’s film, which says that kids in suburban schools are fronting, any more acceptable than a film that chastised white people for trying to rap?
The reason is simple. 8 Mile appeals to the dire need within white people to redefine those elements of black culture where black people excel and whitewash it, take away any ownership. This is nothing new. This is an old story told on a new stage.
There’s nothing wrong with white people liking hip hop. We would be crazy not to. Hip hop is amazing music, powerful music. But there is something wrong when white people are not content just being fans, or even participants, of a black music; when white people have to redefine the boundarys to include themselves, the way Rabbit does in 8 Mile.
If white people who love hip hop can find a way to appreciate hip hop without having to steal it, maybe we can save it from going the way of blues, jazz, and rock… maybe hip hop will be able to stay real.
written by
Dave Hill
comments on this editorial write back to Dave at [email protected] Albany, NY
Eminem is a true talent - but I think there are MCs who are just as good or better - and are black who don't get a fair shake because they don't rap about stuff suburban caucasoids can relate to -and because they don't have Jimmy Iovine putting millions and millions into promoting them to whites. Faggots like tim won't like this article -
8 Mile Good or Bad?
by - David Hill of Albany, NY
11/12/02 9:14:27 AM
The most sickening moment in Curtis Hanson’s new movie 8 Mile isn’t the scene where Rabbit gets beat down by a crew of black thugs right in front of his hysterical baby sister. Nor is it the scene where Rabbit discovers his close friend and neighbor fucking his new girlfriend. It’s a scene meant to be touching, with all the elements of friendship, camradarie and solidarity. It’s a scene where Rabbits only white friend, a slower-than-most Cheddar Bob, is layed up on the couch in his mom’s house after shooting himself in the leg. He refuses to answer the door when his crew comes to visit him and see how he’s doing, but welcomes Rabbit through the back door after the others leave. When asked by Rabbit why he wouldn’t open the door for the others, he says “I didn’t want them making fun of me. You know Rabbit?” and Rabbit nods his head approvingly. He does know. It's HARD being white in a black world. It's hard taking criticism, being more closely scrutinized, having to learn to live in a world that isn’t yours. And its hard to be made fun of, to be the butt of everyone’s jokes. Man, black people sure can be mean.
The entire movie 8 Mile is a two hour treatise on white victimization in the black urban landscape. Its two white male characters, Rabbit and Cheddar, are constantly made fun of, and struggle hard not just to make it, but to be accepted by their black compatriots. The story, right up until its climax, is one of a white man’s conquest of a black, black world.
All the reviews and articles written since 8 Mile’s debut have been focused primarily on Eminem’s acting abilities (or lack thereof). Nowhere have critics tackled the question of whether or not race (or more accurately, racism) is what makes this film so provocative, so tantalizing, to white and black audiences alike.
Surely Buddy Rabbit is a lyrical genius, a prodigy the likes of which the hip hop world has never seen. Surely his race has nothing to do with it. We are supposed to accept that if Rabbit were black, he would be just as great.
But would he? Especially if one accepts that rap music is informed by experience. Especially when you look at how all the attention placed on Rabbit is placed on his race… by his enemies, by his friends, and by himself, and his own lyrics. Why is it that if Rabbit, or Eminem, can’t see past his own skin color that we are expected to do so?
To me, 8 Mile is a swan song for the thousands and thousands of white men who love hip hop but want to attack the notion that they are somehow, in the words of Ice Cube, “eavesdroppers” on this cultural expression they are so moved by. It is a movie that re-writes history, and places the boundary of hip hop not around a racial group, but around a class.
The final battle in 8 Mile pits Rabbit up against Papa Doc, a fierce MC and hoodlum who Rabbit discovers attended a private school outside of the gritty yet socially hip area code “313.” When Rabbit chastises Papa Doc by calling him “Clarence”, his real name, and calling out his suburban upbringing, the black crowd is instantly transformed to Rabbit’s side and boos Papa Doc off the stage.
This is clearly a white fantasy. To believe that hip hop can be yours if only you have the class status to claim it is false. Hip hop is a black thing, rich or poor. Its ironic that the same people who will be the first to say that hip hop is not a black thing will also claim that it belongs to EVERYBODY. If this is true, then why is Hanson’s film, which says that kids in suburban schools are fronting, any more acceptable than a film that chastised white people for trying to rap?
The reason is simple. 8 Mile appeals to the dire need within white people to redefine those elements of black culture where black people excel and whitewash it, take away any ownership. This is nothing new. This is an old story told on a new stage.
There’s nothing wrong with white people liking hip hop. We would be crazy not to. Hip hop is amazing music, powerful music. But there is something wrong when white people are not content just being fans, or even participants, of a black music; when white people have to redefine the boundarys to include themselves, the way Rabbit does in 8 Mile.
If white people who love hip hop can find a way to appreciate hip hop without having to steal it, maybe we can save it from going the way of blues, jazz, and rock… maybe hip hop will be able to stay real.
written by
Dave Hill
comments on this editorial write back to Dave at [email protected] Albany, NY
