Our earlier post, or ostensible lack thereof, about Richard Pryor's death was a pretty good indicator of how much the news bummed us out, leaving us sort of speechless (a rare treat). After all, this is supposed to be a fairly humorous site. Our failure of that is typically the result of a lack of talent, rather than anything emotional. We are, for the most part, quite dead inside; but in this case, we were saddened enough that there just wasn't any humorous take on Richard's death, for us. In short, we wanted to pay our respects, but didn't quite know how to reconcile our genuine mourning with our normal cheeky insolence. Hence, the bare-bones post of this morning.
Luckily, TAN seemed to handle the issue of blogging about Pryor's death a lot better than we did. We present to you a fictional interview between himself and the recently-deceased comedian, syndicated here. Enjoy!
The Assimilated Negro: so thank you for doing this interview with me today. It’s nice to have this sort of exclusive. And I know it’s a tough time right now.
Richard Pryor: It’s not that tough. I’d recommend more interviews getting done after motherfuckers die. There ain’t shit to do now, except think about shit, so it’s a great time for an interview.
TAN: so any immediate regrets ?
RP: yeah. Well I regret doing all those motherfucking drugs that probably cut my life short at least ten years. That MS shit ain’t cool. You kids probably think a motherfucker’s cool ridin’ in the wheelchair. Racing and poppin’ wheelies and shit. The shit ain’t cool.
TAN: I think us “kids” might surprise you. We’re not that into riding in wheelchairs. Or MS. But we are into you and your voice. What you represent.
RP: What do I represent? I know you motherfuckers ain’t trying to make a Martin or Malcolm out of me. That’s a little excessive. I’m just a nigga trying to be funny. Make other niggas laugh.
TAN: Yeah. And that can mean a lot. Being able to laugh is important. And you’re not Martin or Malcolm. You’re Richard. You’re your own thing.
RP: Yeah, well Martin and Malcolm didn’t kill themselves by doing too much drugs and shit. They didn’t light themselves on fire in a freebasing accident. You know what I’m saying? Them motherfuckers was focused.
TAN: Yeah. But they weren’t all that funny either. If guys like you didn’t help us laugh and poke fun at shit, then we wouldn’t be able to take guys like them seriously.
RP: what the fuck are you talking about nigga? You been hanging out with them white kids too much.
TAN: I’m just saying. Just because you’re a comic, that doesn’t make you any less of a leader, or an icon. But why does this feel like you’re interviewing me, instead of vice versa?
RP: Cause you’re a bad interviewer motherfucker. That’s why. And I don’t mean “bad” meaning “good” either nigga. I mean your interviewing stinks.
TAN: I thought you gave up saying “nigga” after your trip to Zimbabwe.
RP: I did nigga. Now I’m dead, and I’m saying nigga whenever the fuck I want.
[Read the rest here.]
No comments:
Post a Comment