Dear Mr P,
I apologize, but consider this my two-weeks notice. I have loved my time at Tiny Mix Tapes®. I have impressed some girls, received some torrent tracker invites, and heck, I like to think that the legs of my jeans are just a little tighter now that all is said and done. However, I cannot in good faith stay at this operation when the funniest thing I can conjure is the truth.
I have been waiting to write an article on the Pied Piper Of R&B, R. “Kells” Kelly, since before I knew Tiny Mix Tapes existed. I have watched the Trapped In The Closet DVD in full no less than 30 times. I can more or less quote “Kells Commentary Remix” (normally known as director’s commentary in Criterionspeak) word for word. So when I heard there was new R. Kelly information, I jumped on it. I had jokes. Oh did I ever have jokes. I was going to talk about how in apparent manic states he drops remixes before the actual tracks. I was going to mention the song "Sex Planet" and its hilariously half-baked space-themed innuendos (he rhymes painless and Uranus and makes copious references to his “giant rocket”). I even had something prepared about the sunglasses he wears in the “I’m A Flirt” video that are literally covered in diamonds. Covered. As in the lenses... he looks like a bug.
While you were keeled over thanking God that you hired me, I was going to shred your face off via hilarity by discussing Trapped and its numerous flaws, its subtle racism, its lack of continuity, its green screens, the fact that “Kellz” wasn’t clever enough to name the protagonist (played by himself), so he just called him Sylvester... his real name. While you were on Orbitz buying a ticket to Chicago to shake my hand, I was going delve into the director’s commentary where he sits in a leather chair, smoking a cigar watching Trapped, for what seems to be the first time, and says things like “most people don’t even notice... but this is actually rhyming the whole way through... I don’t know how that happened.” Or when he claims that Trapped will go on forever, that other rappers will take over after he dies (what), that it will turn into a TV series (what?), and a talk show (WHAT?). Additionally, he has claimed that after the nuclear holocaust, all that will exist will be cockroaches, Twinkies, and Trapped. I imagined around 35,000 Digg hits in the next two days just for my article.
So, with all of this prepared, I went to the source article to find MAYBE two facts to give my article the credibility it would need to finally snag TMT that Pulitzer we’ve been waiting for. Upon actually opening the article, it became VERY clear that I stood no chance of topping R. Kelly’s real life, even with my finest humor and wry observations.
Read it. I know, clicking a link can be painful, but there is no way for me to supplant the absurdity of R. Kelly’s life with my own words. HE HAS A CHEERS REPLICA PUB IN HIS HOME CALLED ROBERT'S BAR AND GRILLE. HE OFFERED TO PAY HIS BROTHER TO TAKE THE RAP FOR THE SEX TAPE. HE COMPARED HIMSELF TO ALI, MLK, MARVIN GAYE, AND BOB MARLEY. I... I... I’m just speechless...
Trapped In The Closet Chapter 13-30 come out July 24.
I’m going to go see if there’s still time for me to change my major to finance.