As children, we were constantly yearning for independence from our parents. Sure, they fed us, clothed us, and put a roof over our head, but what did they really ever do for us? Movies featuring kids on their own became a sort of illicit fantasy of autonomy, a state of unlikely non-supervision to which we could eventually aspire.
So, the question is,
Would you rather:
Experience the zany madcap robber-evading adventures of Kevin McCallister in Home Alone
or
Enjoy weeks of non-stop childlike debauchery in a remote setting while assembling an elaborate parent-fooling scheme a la Camp Nowhere?
Explain your reasoning.
Children of the Nineties is on vacation! For the time being, enjoy the notably briefer scheduled posts in lieu of the usual lengthy 90s diatribes.
In case you were wondering, CotN is currently at Sea World...
...doing extensive research to bring you the highest quality future post on Free Willy.
I've always had a lurking urge to burst Kool-Aid man style through the door of a boardroom in the midst of heated negotiations and shout, "Stop! Collaborate and listen!" Unfortunately, some dreams will never be realized, and this action would likely brand me as clinically insane. For Robert Van Winkle, though, these words were his ticket to inexplicable 90s musical fame.
You may think that breakdancing with a side of big hair is not a major marketable skill, but perhaps its a matter of timing. That is, if someone happens to catch you breakdancing wearing your big hair at just the right moment, well who knows, maybe you can make a career of it. Throw in some alleged "rapping", and you've got yourself a brand.
Before Eminem, before 303, the original white rapper ("vanilla"-hued, if you will) was Vanilla Ice. In the late 80s and early 90s, hip hop was just emerging as a credible musical genre. It was still primarily a black phenomenon, as most cool things are before they are hijacked and subsequently beaten into boring submission by stuffy white people. Hip hop was new and edgy and indicative of all thing youth culture related, but it had yet to be fully packaged by music executives. At this point, notoriety and street cred were the major forces guiding the emerging hip hop culture. While Vanilla Ice was a serviceable* rapper, music moguls saw him as an outsider on the fringe of hip hop who could be sufficiently packaged for consumer enjoyment and their own rising stock.
Vanilla Ice was commodifiable, and music execs fully recognized the potential of breaking into the hip hop business. He even managed to unintentionally earn himself some notoriety by means of a scuffle with some of Suge Knight's associates, one of whom claimed to have written Ice, Ice, Baby. We all can see that the "Ice, Ice" in Ice, Ice baby refers to Mr. Vanilla himself, so it seems unlikely this would have been penned by anyone else. To be honest, take a good hard look at the lyrics and you'll see immediately that money could be the only possible explanation for the boldfaced lie; this wasn't exactly poetry we were dealing with here. Let's take a quick peek at what would become the first hip hop single to top the Billboard charts:
Yo, Vanilla, kick it one time Boy Yo, VIP, Let's kick it! Ice Ice Baby, Ice Ice Baby
Okay, off to a good start. Well, the use of that "yo" is questionable, but I'm going to let it slide.
All right stop, Collaborate and listen Ice is back with my brand new invention
Who said rap isn't innovative? Before I heard this song, I had no clue whatsoever that the words "listen" and "invention" rhymed.
Something grabs a hold of me tightly Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
I'll concede this is a more respectable rhyme, but how many raps do you know of that reference harpoons? And/or their (that is, the harpoons') flowing tendencies? Is that some sort of misplaced weapon reference to build street credibility?
Will it ever stop? Yo! I don't know Turn off the lights and I'll glow To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal Light up a stage and watch me jump like a candle.
As the owner of many jumping candles, I particularly enjoyed this imagery. Later I was disappointed to learn that, like the Mexican jumping beans, this movement was a mere farce. At least I could always watch Vanilla Ice and his graffiti stylings on a nearby sound-enhancement device.
Dance, go rush the speaker that booms I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom Deadly, when I play a dope melody Anything less than the best is a felony
I didn't realize how much I yearned for someone's ABAB rhyme scheme to kill my brain until Vanilla kindly illuminated the point. I imagine that lame "felony" reference is an attempt to badassify his lyrics.
Love it or leave it, You better gain way You better hit bull's eye, The kid don't play If there was a problem, Yo, I'll solve it Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
This doesn't make that much sense, but at least in this case it does rhyme. Also, the hook he refers to was sampled from earlier favorites such a David Bowie and Queen. So yes, Vanilla, I will check it out. I appreciate the suggestion.
This was when the best breakdancing took place, just in case you're considering choreographing your own version.
Now that the party is jumping With the bass kicked in and the Vegas are pumpin' Quick to the point, to the point no faking Cooking MCs like a pound of bacon
Nothing says "street" like referencing a good old fashioned home cooked breakfast.
Burnin' 'em if you aint quick and nimble I go crazy when I hear a cymbal And a hi hat with a souped up tempo I'm on a roll, it's time to go solo Rollin' in my 5.0 With my rag top down so my hair can blow The girlies on standby, Waving just to say Hi Did you stop? No -- I just drove by Kept on pursuing to the next stop I busted a left and I'm heading to the next block That block was dead
Thank, Vanil, for the play by play. I, too, go crazy when I hear a cymbal. Traumatic wind-up monkey incident as a child. It's still tough to talk about.
Yo -- so I continued to A1A Beachfront Avenue Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Less than bikinis...could we be a little more descriptive? That's like saying, they were wearing more than nothing. I'm a visual learner, dammit, give me some adequate cues here.
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis Jealous 'cause I'm out getting mine Shay with a gauge and Vanilla with a nine Ready for the chumps on the wall The chumps acting I'll because they're full of Eight Balls Gunshots ranged out like a bell I grabbed my nine -- All I heard were shells Falling on the concrete real fast Jumped in my car, slammed on the gas Bumper to bumper the avenue's packed I'm trying to get away before the jackers jack Police on the scene, You know what I mean They passed me up, for runnin' on the dope beans If there was a problem, Yo, I'll solve it Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it
Okay, so here's the drive-by part. What I'm wondering though is why police came to the scene? Didn't you hear? If there was a problem, Vanilla would solve it.
Vanilla Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice Ice Baby Vanilla Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice Ice Baby Take heed, 'cause I'm a lyrical poet Miami's on the scene just in case you didn't know it My town, that created all the bass sound Enough to shake and kick holes in the ground 'Cause my style's like a chemical spill Feasible rhymes that you can vision and feel
I often brag about my best traits by illustrating their close likeness to chemical spills. It's a major selling point. Try it at your next interview.
Conducted and formed, This is a hell of a concept We make it hype and you want to step with this Shay plays on the fade, slice like a ninja Cut like a razor blade so fast, Other DJs say, "damn" If my rhyme was a drug, I'd sell it by the gram Keep my composure when it's time to get loose Magnetized by the mic while I kick my juice If there was a problem, Yo -- I'll solve it! Check out the hook while DJ revolves it.
I'm a bit concerned about being magnetized by the mic. After all, I had this recorded off the radio on cassette tape, a magnetic force of that magnitude would straight up erase it.
He still had a few good years before fading into obscurity, putting out records no one's ever heard of and appearing in shame-inducing reality shows. There was also Cool as Ice, a movie that was sort of like Rebel without a Cause only distinctly more terrible. If its any indication of complete lack of quality, the movie's score on composite review site Rotten Tomatoes is a whopping 8%. It was posthumously (I use that word largely in reference to the death of Vanilla's career) disowned by the director, which isn't quite the positive retrospection one could hope for. If nothing else, the movie did leave us with an outstanding pickup line:
"Drop that zero, and get with a hero!"
Of course, this is a gross oversimplification. Vanilla Ice did a lot more than just sing "Ice, Ice, Baby" and appear in a god-awful film people will someday with disdain unfairly refer to as a "period piece". He's 41 years old, certainly he's put out something else we would have heard of.
...doing extensive research to bring you the highest quality future post on Free Willy.
