One constant criticism I get about
Vice is that the magazine has somehow changed over the years. That it's missing something from its younger days but people are hard pressed to put their finger on what it is. So I'll tell you what the problem may be: Vice appears to lack hip-hop. But I think you forgot about me!Back in its infancy Vice showcased lots of hip-hop. They even went so far as to have a token hip-hop purist on staff, the type of person all people defer to when seeking knowledge on the topic of rap and black culture: A WHITE, FRENCH-CANADIAN. His name was Dave One and despite me hating all three of his traits (whiteness, Frenchism, and Canadiandia) I liked that someone was keeping tabs on Vice's hip-hop content, someone with an opinion. But at some point he disappeared. To where? Who knows? Perhaps to get a tan or buy a baguette or ride a moose as his heritage would call for (perhaps doing all three things simultaneously: Getting a tan on the back of a moose while eating a baguette). And without Dave One it seemed as if Vice turned as white as a Klan rally. Except for me; the lone black staff writer at Vice (my mother's cousin's brother's friend's neighbor in Portugal was black. So I'm like 1/8th black). Believe it or not I actually got my start as a hip-hop journalist. If you go back in time, my first assignment for Vice was an interview with Midori, a black porn star who happened to be Jody Watley's sister and was venturing into music. (Let's just say it didn't work out.) But before that I was interviewing any and all relevant hip-hop acts from 1995 to 2000. I was even responsible for discovering Big Pun (when I opened the envelope with his advance from his publicist at the label he signed to). In the most telling fact of all, it turns out that Ghostface Killah of the Wu Tang is my adoptive father (I adopted him. Not the other way around.). I went so far as to dedicate my book, Skinema, to him. And on my wedding day, the most sacred of sacred days, when I had the chance to choose any song ever written to dance with my mother to I chose "All That I Got Is You." I'm pretty sure not even Nas would be that bold, so you tell me… who is really hood? Think about that when you read the bleached pages of Vice. I'm still holding it down for my fellow Negros. A salami links us. (Recently My friend Matt [Head of Marketing at Chrome Bags] Sharkey's wife, Dalila handmade me the most amazing Grandpa Ghostface blanket for Chris II. She's the beautiful blonde in these pictures. Thanks, D.) CHRIS NIERATKO (For more stupid go to Chrisnieratko.com or NJSkateshop)