Bites, Barks, & All Things In Between

I've never considered myself a "man's man" per se. I've always opted to take more of a Jerkwater approach to masculinity. Armchair coach, back seat driver, that sort of thing. Although, getting a women pregnant is possibly the manliest thing one can do, & I've done that a few times. Thats said, I don't know a lot about football, & even less about boxing. What I do know about boxing though, is that Mike Tyson finally snapped. For those of you too young to remember Mike when he was literally an animal, back in the late 80's, this man's fights would generally last less than about 3 minutes. That old joke, "Two hits. I hit you, you hit the floor" may have be born of Mike's aggression. Some blamed it on his trainer back then, Cus D'Amato, but I'm more apt to say, "Giving a crazy nigga gloves doesn't make him less crazy, just gives him a reason to hit harder!". When I saw Mike broken down to tears on Oprah Windbag-I mean Winfrey's Couch of Despair, all I could think about was DMX's upcoming fight & how he probably should've been a boxer to begin with.


In order to be a boxer (fuck skill, talent, strength & detachment from all things human such as pain & emotion), one must be a certifiable psychopath. If DMX has proven anything to us since he first album, it's that he's crazier than a paralyzed nymphomaniac in a strip club. Nuttier than a Gay Rights protest march. This dude had the music world on it's ear, releasing 2 million-plus selling albums in a year's time, back in the late-90's. This was a time when if someone said they rapped, it actually meant something. Earl Simmons p/k/a Dark Man 'X' had people's grandmothers talking about "Y'all gon' make me lose my mind!". Little did we know, that line he wrote was a glimpse into a future that only DMX saw coming.


Arf arf, indeed.


We just digested his incessant barking as homage to his dead dog Boomer. Btw, he has a tattooed tribute to Boomer sprawling his back, shoulder to shoulder. I have my wife's name on my left bicep, but the shit's only 3 inches across, 4 tops. I'm just saying. That was only the tip of the iceberg, though. He's been busted on drug & gun charges-on a few occasions, was arrested for impersonating an officer (what rap dude pretends to be the police? The one who smokes crack, duh?!), he's also been arrested for excessive speeding, & his last state funded vacation involved the mistreatment of dogs at his home in Arizona. Niggas don't move to Arizona to begin with, unless they're in the Witness Relocation Program, so a Black man murdering puppies in his backyard shouldn't even be on the program listing. & no sooner than he growled "I got top bunk" & got comfortable in his pink striped, jail-issue jump suit, he allegedly attacked a CO [corrections officer]. By this point in his public life, DMX was fucking awesome, like a real life action hero! Somewhere in USA, kids were probably dressing up like him on Halloween, barking & shit while they toilet papered the gay couple's Volvo for giving out real apples as opposed to apple Now & Laters.


To his credit, DMX carved himself a healthy niche in Hollywood by starring in several above average films. Many compared his talent to that of Tupac, although the consensus was that Tupac just acted "crazy". Same consensus concluded that X was "acting" sane. I think he was smoking drugs personally, & reports of him taken into custody with crack cocaine only solidified my assumptions.


Upon his release from one of America's toughest jails, DMX vowed to do better & leave that detrimental lifestyle behind him. He'd found God while incarcerated, like most men would when facing ass violation &/or death by sharpened toothbrush. His future looked bright from all outside vantage points, & I for one believed him. He even appeared on a couple of other artists' summer singles, perhaps to show the Hip Hop world that he's well on his way to save a dreary, slightly homosexual rap industry from skinny jeaned auto-tunery.


Then he announces that in December, he'll be taking part in a boxing match against actor Eric Martinez, in a fight billed "Alabama Pride", on the same card as Butterbean. Yeah, Butterbean. I figured that guy would have mistaken has hand for a pack of hot dogs by now & eaten himself alive years ago.
[tony's note: who the fuck is eric martinez? & what exactly has he acted in? & wouldn't the better contest have been x vs. butterbean?]


Morbid curiosity would have me pining to see this, but staunch reality argues against watching an over aged rapper & a z-list pseudo celeb slap box each other until a referee decides he's earned his paycheck. If this is a publicity stunt, which I know it is, X could have picked a much more formidable opponent to fight. Speaking of Mike Tyson, why not challenge him? In the state of confused disarray that Iron Mike appears to be in, & as long as X's ears aren't anywhere near Mike's mouth, that would be the fight to see. X barks like a dog, Tyson bites like one. If thats not a leveled playing field, then I don't know what is. Both are lunatics; one minute, they're screaming at the top of their respective lungs about the torment they have in store for you, & the next, they're thanking God, apologizing to White people & trying to convince John Q. Public to give them another chance at precious fame.


Mike seems to pretty much be at his lowest point, & with losing his daughter, I'm sure he'll never again lose his grip on reality. That shit has to suck horribly, day in & day out. RIP Exodus. But the X man? No Dice. Dudes just getting started on chapter 3 of "What You Want, Dope Or Dog Food?: The DMX Chronicles". I'm definitely a fan of Earl's music, but I'm an even bigger fan of his antics. He reminds me of the many drug-addicted family members I have who's pathetic lives tug on my heart strings, yet tickle my funny bone like nobody's business.


God bless X, & all those lost sheep who can't find our sheppard, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not entertained by the irony of X having a song called 'Slippin'', whose chorus is, "I'm slippin', fallin', I can't get up". Maybe I should remind him of that song, via e-mail, so when this Martinez clown cleans his proverbial clock, he'll have an excuse ready.


All this assuming that he'll even show up for the fight. I've never seen a crack head wearing a watch.