The people cried out for their god!

Rap God! Rap God!

But the Rap God was old, past his time, no longer able to fulfill his duties.

Rap God! Rap God!

The rap god had an idea.

Pretend to pretend he was no god, not now, not ever, but like them, only more.

“I walk on water but I ain’t no Jesus. I walk on water but only when it freezes.”

The newest Eminem song, Walk on Water, is dull and tired. Worse, every moment where it sounds as if Eminem might make the song listenable, might make the long wait worthwhile, Beyonce, a fellow faux royal, brings it all crashing down again, morose masquerading as meaningful, song production piled atop puerile preening. She’s even worse, and he’s awful.

Eminem once proclaimed himself Rap God. This was not a pose, but an obligation. Too many want not the art but the excess, not the lasting but an overwhelming now, false attacks on false gods to sustain the illusion. Those placed upon a lofty perch are often happy to oblige, for as long as they can.

“Cause I’m just a man but as long as I got a mic, I’m godlike.”


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