Tuesday, October 11, 2011

An Open Letter to mc chris

We love your music. Really, we do. You spit clever and dorky. Your voice, while unorthodox, grows on the listener after only a couple of tracks. The work you do to raise awareness and cash for CF research is awesome. Your appearances on ATHF steal the spotlight in those episodes, that shit you did with Childish Gambino is my favorite jam, and everybody adores your Goonies rant.

All that being said, chris (can we call you "chris"?), you do not have the best PR stance.

I understand rappers are also average joes (one of my favorites told me just last night "WE IS ALL PEOPLE!"). I understand everybody gets down sometimes, and when people say things that hurt our feelings, we get a little bent about it. The difference is how we handle it.

I'm neither rich nor famous, so I can't say I know how you feel, but when people I don't know talk shit about me I handle it like an adult. I don't focus on it for days or weeks, making mad multiple posts on FB and Twitter about how I'm sick of the haters.

Fuck, I wish I HAD me some haters. That's how you know you made it. If I had bitches talking shit about me all the time, I'd know I was famous enough to flame. That's a big deal.

Yet, everytime someone talks trash about you, you let it get personal. You let it get inside you and fester and hurt your feelings and make it out to be more than it is. Some people are jealous. They will talk shit. That's a professional issue, not a personal one. It's got to do with your professional persona, and your music, and your fame.

Maybe they're jealous, maybe they genuinely don't like your music and they have nothing better to do with their lives but troll you because they can't get laid. Whatever the reason, LET. THEM. TALK. SHIT.

Every time you respond to your WHOLE FANBASE the way you have recently, two things happen:
  1. Kissasses come out of the woodwork to dick-ride you in hopes that you'll acknowledge their puny existence.
  2. You lose real fans.

That first group is gonna love you no matter what you do, because you're famous and they're not. They're not real fans, they're nut-huggers from the Alien porn parody, riding your dick because you're famous and they aren't. They're living vicariously through you, and may or may not actually give two half-price fucks about you or your music genuinely.

That second group, though? That second group is the group that comes to your shows because they like what you do. They buy your records because they fucking love your music. They go to your shows because they love hearing your rants. They're loyal, but they're not blind. They love you, but not enough to put up with abuse.

I'm in this second group. I fucking LOVE your music. Your tunes are the seed for my most-listened-to Pandora playlist, I blare your shit in the car, I listen to it while I code and game and read comics and shit. I'm forever telling people to check your music out, give you a chance, quoting your song lyrics as evidence of genius.

But I won't be spoken to that way.

I respect your art, and your struggles, but I respect myself, too. And if you don't respect me, as a fan, then maybe you don't deserve fans. I'll just file you away in the box marked "Makes Great Music, But Is A Total Douchebag" with Kanye "What-A-Twat" West.

I'm sorry you've had it rough lately, mc, but don't take it out on your fans. Don't. It's bullshit, and we don't fucking deserve it.

In closing, let me try my hand at this "rap shit":

You may think you're flawless,
that you're the most stylish,
But Donald Glover picked the wrong name:
bitch, you bein' childish.


  1. I'd offer to be your hater if I didn't adore you so much.

  2. Mitchell, just wanted to welcome you to bookblogs.ning. Don't forget to list your blog on bloggers.com and http://directory.kaysbookshelf.com/