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Untitled Document




Ya know what time it is....it's 730 !

4/26/ 2007

Props to Killa Cam for becoming the new spokesperson for hip-hop. After going on The O’Reilly Factor and 60 Minutes, Cam does indeed have the crown for being the king of TV. Please don’t get that confused with being the king of YouTube, MySpace, mixtapes or New York (in that order). 

Anyway, Cam solidified his rep as rap’s go-to spokesman with his appearance on The O’Reilly Factor in 2003. Cam dazzled America with such insight as “I have a cologne also.” He would later son William O’Reilly with the line, “I'm going to get at you in a minute” to which the fearless host courageously replied, “You go ahead. You get at me.” Whoa. 

Cam would later play host of The O’Reilly Show (talk about a jacking taking place on national television) and tell elementary school principal Salome Thomas-El that he was “done for the night” when he tried to offer up a final statement. Honestly, when Cam says you’re done, you’re done. 

Anderson Cooper must have been surfing YouTube when he found that Cam’ron clip from 2003. How else could explain why Cam was chosen? It’s definitely not off record sales. 

Cam said he would not tell anyone if he lived next to a serial killer. The big question is, how would Cam know he lived next to a serial killer and how would no one else would know? Did said serial killer secretly confide his guilt or pleasure to Cam? Would Cam be spying on him with his Diplomat telescope? How would Cam know if he was living next door to a serial killer and no one else would know? Seriously. 

I’m surprised the next question wasn’t, “What if you lived next door to a man who could turn into an elephant with wings and fly through the neighborhood pooping on people’s houses? Would you tell anyone then? Huh? Would you? Would you? What if the elephant had poisonous poop? Then would you tell? What if the flying elephant/man didn’t emit poisonous poop but 50 Cent flyers? Then would you tell? Wait, wait, I got it. I got it. This is a good one. What if you lived next door to 50 Cent and you knew he was a serial killer? Then would you tell? But what if Jim Jones lived on the other side of 50 Cent and you knew 50 might go after Jim? What would be the capo thing to do, Cameron?” Cam’s not telling, Anderson. Cam wouldn’t even tell his girl if she had lettuce in her teeth. 

Dee Jekkyl, please cue up M.O.P’s “How About Some Hardcore” right about now. 

Is it really right for Anderson Cooper to be asking “Killa Cam” about if he would be scared living next to a serial killer? Isn’t that kind of like asking Poison Pen how he would like living next to Joe Francis. They may not have everything in common, but they can probably find some common bond on which to form a long and prosperous friendship. 

I think the dude with two last names’ next question should have pertained to asking Cam if he would either stop or join in with the serial killer. His name is “Killa Cam” after all. It may not be “Cold-Blooded Serial Killer Cam” or “Murderer Cam,” but “Killa Cam” pretty much speaks for itself. With a name like “Killa Cam,” I highly doubt that Cam would be taking the law into his own hands to prevent the loss of innocent civilian lives. 

And as you all either know or should know, I’m not from the streets and I don’t pretend I am to solicit credibility from anyone. So I am far from an expert on the code of snitching, but a question I do have, and maybe I would be better off directing this to Cameron Giles, but what if I witness a crime and I tell someone else (secretly, of course) and then they tell the police? Am I the snitch or is my friend the snitch? Is it possible to get partial credit for snitching, which should therefore mean only a partial loss in your SCR (Street Credibility Rating)? 

What’s also important to know in this snitching code is how do you know the other person will be a reliable trust-buddy for not snitching? Let’s say my boy steals my car. I know he did it and it’s a lease, so I’m fucked. Either I can file a police report and rely on my insurance to get me out of trouble or I can retaliate. I would run to Rosie O’Donnell before I’d even consider running to anyone with one of those shiny badges and funny hats. Since my boy knows that I know that he stole my wheels, he’ll probably be prepared for my revenge. Therefore I’m going to prepare for the situation in the same way Tank Johnson prepares for a trip to the local Dairy Queen – lots of ammo. Hold the sprinkles, motherfucker. 

Since my boy knows that I know that he knows that I’m going to be packing more heat than D.Wade’s Top 5, he’ll have already called Sebastian Telfair and his girlfriend and they’ll be waiting for me. Depending on how much time he has he may be able to assemble the Cincinnati Bengals, in which case I would then be fucked. Lucky for me, they probably won’t anticipate my gratuitous use of camouflage so I get into his place, jack his Xbox 360 and all the games I can Velcro to myself (remember that old game show circa 1990-1 where you’d run through a video game rental store with a Velcro suit and you’d have to stick as many games to your body as you can and make it down the slide before time expires?) and safely exit his premises. 

Now he knows that I got him for his video games. What’s my insurance that he’s not going to go to the police and make me return Madden and NCAA ’07? He can easily dump my car somewhere and go to the police and they’ll smash my door down just as my Momentum Meter is rising and I’ll be in the hole while my boy’s got my wheels and his Xbox. I’m sure whatever TV judge I get is going to understand why I did it. Or maybe not. That doesn’t seem very fair. 

While all these pseudo-hip-hop intellectuals are debating the use of the word “ho” in rap music, I think it’s very necessary that we tackle the important, real issues at stake in hip-hop. I may not get a cushy professor job out of this or a lame book deal, but I know I’m doing my part to elevate the culture, and that warm, fuzzy feeling is worth more than any amount of feminists sliding me their number. 

Let’s get to it. I would like to make my mark on hip-hop by proposing Hip-Hop Court. These courts will run the same as regular courts, only they’ll be different. Instead of penalizing hip-hoppers who commit crimes, we’ll penalize those lame motherfuckers who report crimes. Fucking snitches! Watched someone steal some car? Two years in the hole. Someone tried to sell your kid crack and you thought it was necessary to report it? Four years making license plates and hospital beds. Your girl smacked you in the face after you caught her cheating on you and you had the nerve to call the police? Five years for being a puss. You saw someone get murdered and had the audacity to report it? Life with no parole. 

Here’s where it gets tricky. In order for the losers who report crimes to be identified, there will have to be some form of a witness. Therefore a witness to someone who called 911 will be wheeled into the court in a one-way see-thru black box. No one can see in, but they can see out. They’ll also speak through one of those voice-changers like the dude in Scream used and Uncle Jimbo’s hunting partner in South Park uses. That way they’ll never be identified. I think it’s worth mentioning that after they testify, they will be wheeled out of the court with two other black boxes filled with fake witnesses. The boxes will then be jumbled around like cups on the big screen at sporting events where fans have to guess which cup is holding the marble. The loser who witnessed a crime could try to pick out the witness, but they’ll be so dizzy from watching that they’ll have no idea. Even if they knew, they’re probably too wimpy to retaliate. The Law – 1, Snitches – 0. 

We don’t take kindly to snitching over here. 

It’s also important to determine who is eligible for Hip-Hop Court and Hip-Hop Law and who isn’t. There will be criteria to determine who falls under the gentle wing of justice versus who’s going to be shivering under the cold, heartless defense of the regular U.S. laws, which are obviously doing a great job of preventing crimes. I think a person is eligible for Hip-Hop Law if they’ve seen Scarface a certain amount of times, own at least five different Biggie shirts (sequined or not), consider 106 and Park their daily dose of news and have made at least one pilgrimage to the Port of Miami in search of Rick Ross, walruses and manatees. 

If you’ve never made the pilgrimage, I sincerely pity your chances of survival outside of the long arm of Hip-Hop Law. 

For the record, I don’t think Cam and Dog the Bounty Hunter will be chopping it up anytime soon. 

What’s really amazing is that someone from 60 Minutes was forced to watch Killa Season to research for the interview. There’s a good reason to never take an internship. 

I hear the bus coming so I really have to run. If my boy didn’t steal my car, I could write a little more, but the bus runs on a tight schedule and I have to make it to the fabric store. They’re having a sale on sequins this week and I’m going to be gluing them onto this stack of Stop Snitchin’ tees I ordered. The kids are going to love these.


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>>E-mail Brian Kayser







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