Being a Hip Hop fan over the past 26 years and hearing all of the ill researched opinions of said art form, I have learned to research something before giving an opinion on it. Most of the negative opinions of Hip Hop by bottom feeders like Bill O'Reilly are examples of "lazy racism", because not only are his critiques generalizing and downright foolish, you can see that he would give a left testicle to call rappers a bunch of "niggers" if he had a chance but he knows he can't do that. Lazy racism. So because of that I always try to do the proper research before giving my honest opinion on something. For example, since I have seen my fair share of gospel plays, and can admit that some are good, but the lion share of the ones that I have seen in my opinion have horrible dialogue and usually stars some asshole who might have had a hit single 15 years ago. But, I can't say that all gospel plays are shit, just the ones that I have seen. Being that I haven't met every black republican alive, and know that there has to be some that aren't totally vomit inducing, but the ones that I have met makes me want to ask who their "massa" is, and how long they have been a part of a minstrel show. But, I can't generalize like that, I'm just going off the individuals that I have ran across.
The reason why I went into that lengthy spiel was to introduce a situation that I encountered recently. As much as I talk about "doing research before I criticize", I have always had a strange hatred for Romance novels. That's right, I was a hypocrite, because I have never read one, and I stereotypically thought that every novel had cheesy dialogue and that Fabio was on every cover. That was until I ran across a old college friend named Rose, who I hadn't seen in years, and to my surprise writes Romance novels. She emailed me a week ago and said that she enjoyed my blog, and that she never knew that I was a "fellow writer". So I replied, "I'm a fellow who writes, but to be considered a "writer" one has to get paid to do so on a regular basis. So right now I'm just a chubby black bastard who rambles in a blog, and should have an Afro growing out of my palms from the constant mastu.. Forget it"
When she told me that she was a romance writer, and asked me what I thought about it I basically said that it wasn't my thing and that I honestly thought it was corny. Eager to enlighten me she sent me some of her writing, so I sat there and began to read, thinking that my pre-judgment of said art form would be proved true. As I read her stuff it was pretty good, to the point that I was "sporting wood" like Barry Bonds up to bat.(sporting wood=erection) Even though I still wouldn't buy a romance novel, I had a new respect for what she and writers of her ilk do. Looking back, reading through her stories of erotica, I also realized my limitations as a writer. I mean, imagine if I tried to write a romance novel based on how romantic I am, that might come off horribly. I am a person who has been known to be as romantic as an enema, so here are a few miserable examples of romance writing by The HumanityCritic.
Excerpt from HumanityCritics "Faster than a Speeding Bullet"
Page 112: Even though Sheila was Highly irritated by the way HumanityCritic cursed out her girlfriends earlier that night by calling them "a smorgasbord of whores", she was attracted by the way his dreadlocks blew in the wind and how he threatened a stranger with physical violence by "shoving his size 11's in his ass." Sheila was used to more gentle, more well behaved individuals, but HumanityCritic's animalistic nature either meant that he was a stallion in the bedroom, or he was trying to suppress the fact that he was a flaming homosexual. As she played with his hair as he drove her to her house, she really hoped it was the first one. After he walked her in the house, and they talked for minutes looking deeply into each others eyes, HumanityCritic says something that every woman wants to hear: "Listen, are we gonna fuck or what??!!" Sheila, taken back by the bluntness of her male suitor, didn't know whether to feel excited by his bold statement, or nauseous, the alcohol that HumanityCritic kept buying her earlier that night made it hard for her to distinguish between the two. Looking at the bulging mass in HumanityCritic's trousers, she decided to tease him by saying, "I'm not sure, I hardly know you.." That is when HumanityCritic said the following, "You seemed to know my ass when you were ordering Lobster earlier and expensive wine earlier! OK, OK, I got some weed, what do you say??" That was Sheila's kryptonite, the one thing that would make her lower her defenses and get freakier than Lil Kim on Ecstasy.
As they smoked, well, as she smoked and HumanityCritic acted like he was smoking, she suddenly placed the marijuana cigarette in the ashtray and attacked HC like a woman possessed. As she kissed HumanityCritic, he was fumbling with the bra strap, as she began to undress him, he was fumbling with the bra strap, as she pulled her skirt off, he was fumbling with the motherfucking bra strap!! "What are you retarded??!", she screamed as she unhooked her own bra strap. As they engaged in thrusts of passion she was saying things like, "I bet your gonna blog about this huh?", "You like this don't you?", "Make me feel gooood"(ala Halle in "Monsters Ball".) It got to the point where HumanityCritic stopped his thrusts, put his finger over her mouth and said, "Sweetie, don't take this the wrong way, but shut-the-fuck-up, you ruin it by talking!" She understands his requests and they continue with their night of passion, then suddenly, about two minutes later, HumanityCritic's face tenses up, making Sheila say, "Oh No you didn't, you came that quick??" Forcing HC to gently stroke her face and say, "Shit, didn't you read my blog?? But, I can go again, I have to go to the store and get some more condoms." Still hot as a Arizona desert, Sheila says, "It's OK, I am clean!!" HumanityCritic turns around, gently smirked and said, "Fuck that, your ass used to date Bobby Brown, I'm not taking any chances!!", as he went to the store to get some protection. Actually, he lied, he went straight home and fell asleep, only to wake the next day to a slew of profanities on his answering machine the next morning.
Excerpt from HumanityCritic's "Salad, Deception, and Passion"
page 45: The view was beautiful, right along the beach with the waves crashing against the ocean, it was a sight to see. HumanityCritic had rented out this time share from this dude he knew who owed him from the time that HC saved him from a beating, so the fact that it was free enabled HC to get even more romantic for the night he had planned. The young lady he planned on getting intimate with was a lovely Latina named Maritza, she was someone who Critic wanted, like Ice Cube said in the song "It was a Good day", to f*ck since the 12th grade." For 14 years Maritza had all but ignored HC's advances, thinking of him as brash and someone who has definite issues to deal with. But she was intrigued by some of his writing one day where he talked affectionately about his mother in a blog post she read months ago.(Obviously that was the only time she visited this site.) She figured she would give him one final shot, showing up at HumanityCritic's ghetto ass time share wearing a extremely tight skirt, and a shirt exposing cleavage that someone could fit a small child inside.
Even though HC was harder than Chinese Arithmetic, he knew his chances of seeing the tattoo on her ass that she kept talking about was getting slim. For one thing, she didn't find it funny that instead of wine he brought out 40 ounces for both of them to drink.(HC knew that malt liquor wasn't the move, but he always wanted to see a dainty woman throw back a giant bottle of beer. That dude has a sick sense of humor) Besides her wanting a sensitive man, which HC is not, she also wanted to date a Vegan man since she planned to live her life more healthy starting the next few months. So HumanityCritic, looking at those thick caramel thighs and thinking how much he would love to wear them like earmuffs, decides that he is going to lie his ass off. First, he constantly thinks about his father and the shitload of emotional issues that he has, and started to conjure up tears, saying that he has "always loved her" and that she was the "woman of her dreams". Maritza begins to console HC, getting more excited, as HC gets more excited as well because of the fact that he is laying on her chest. Then, he went in for the kill, and said that he is a Vegan as well, going on this lengthy PETA spiel about how "eating animal flesh is murder!!" Her eyes suddenly lit up, thinking that she had found the man of her dreams, and they started to engage in a wild night of passion. It was a memorable night, despite the fact that HumanityCritic decided to put on Public Enemy as "mood music", told Maritza that he couldn't climax until she continuously said that she loved his blog, and when he did climax he shouted "Release the hounds!!!" Beside that, it was a night of unadulterated debauchery. The next morning, before HC took Maritza home, he stopped at a store to get her a salad and something for himself. After he got back in the car and she began to eat her salad, she asked HumanityCritic, "So, what did you get??" HC pulls out greasy mass amounts of meat and says, "A double cheeseburger, want a bite?" Horrified, Maritza said, "you lied to me, you murderer, you're not a vegan!!" "Of course not, now sit back and shut the fuck up!!", HumanityCritic said. The next few minutes consisted of Maritza hitting HumanityCritic as he let out a series of devilish chuckles.