ODB's Exit Interview

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(image via lacocinelle)

RZA calls ODB, "a true expresser," but according to the New York Daily News, Big Baby Jesus was diagnosed "schizophrenic" at the Manhattan Psychiatric Center (MPC) when he was released from prison. You say ToMAYto, I say ToMAHto. Expresser or Schizo? Expresser or Schizo? Let's call the whole thing off ...

But we digress. Jaime Lowe does a fine job on ODB's final interview in this week's Village Voice, saying:

" ...In January, ODB and I met for what turned out to be his last interview, at his Kensington apartment on a cold, sun-blistered Friday. His manager, Jarred Weisfeld, spoke in a whisper and ushered me through a dark entryway. 'Dirt's sleeping,' he hushed as he sat me on a leather sofa. 'I'll get him up.'

"'It was one in the afternoon.'"

Oh, that wasn't necessary. So not. But it only gets better. With regards to his last record deal:

"ODB explained that he was just offered a job to make another record. 'They offered me $500,000,' he said. The board expressed some concern�that kind of money can't be good for someone with a taste for crack."

No, it can't. But $500,000 worth of crack has got to be, like, say, $50,000 worth of lactose, and that can't be good for a black guy, as we are a lactose intolerant people. Which is not to say that crackheads worry about the nutritional value of their "cracksmoke." Lowe then duly lists ODB's rap sheet:

"First he was arrested for failing to pay child support. Then he was shot in the back by a burglar. A few weeks later he walked out of a store without paying for a pair of Nikes. He got into a fight with a security guard at the House of Blues in L.A. and was charged with 'terrorist threats.' He was accused of firing a gun at a cop. Then a couple months later traffic police found 20 vials of crack in his Mercedes-Benz. Instead of going to jail, he went to rehab in Pasadena and walked out two months before his court-ordered year was up. He toured the country on the lam, popping up at various Wu-Tang shows until he was caught with a mob of admirers at a McDonald's in Philly."

A McDonalds in Philly. Ahem. We'll pass over the quixotic charge of "terrorist threats" in considerable silence. Some people -- peasants, really -- wish after DisneyWorld after the completion of some Herculean effort. Not Dirt McGirt. No:

"'When I get off parole, if I get off parole, I'm gonna try and relocate. I'm going to sit down, relax, and play music. I want to go to Hawaii.'"


Actually, Schizophrenia would explain all those names, social security numbers and welfare checks. More.