[a clip from ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY #820 - May 20, 2005]
Damn, RZA reads like a black Jonathan Lethem. They both cover profound aspects of my childhood in their music and stories. When I attended P.S. 87 and I.S. 44 in Manhattan, sunflower seeds chased by watermelon flavored NOW AND LATERS, along with CHOCO STICKS, were my favorite after school snacks. And yeah, punks used to mug my ass and shit got dastardly. This one time a tall white thug tried to mug my brother at a cigar shoppe while we were playing DEFENDER and STAR CASTLE. Incensed, I threw a punch so fierce, the mugger ducked and I smashed my brother dead in the face. He skidded to the ground and I felt like a punk. The mugger was so freaked out by my conviction, that I could accidently annihilate my brother like that, he bolted out the store. The Chinese proprietor asked me to never come back. I was like "Say what?"
Another time, this stupid Puerto Rican kid named Ravi "made" me do his homework, threatening he'd kick my ass everyday for a week. Half scared, I copied my homework for him. My other half felt bad for the dummy. Come that Friday lunch, he pushed it too far and tried to sell my ass on the street for two dollars. Everybody laughed. He'd crossed the line. This time, my fist landed square between his eyes. I'd never seen a body fly like that before.
For life according to The RZA, pick up his WU-TANG MANUAL and absorb its science while listening to ENTER THE WU-TANG [36 Chambers]. Also, pick up Lethem's FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE. They won't disappoint. niggerkojak knows what I mean.