What it do y’all? This week we gettin’ whacked out in da head with American Psycho
by Brett Easton Ellis. Patrick Bateman is da shallowest douchebag you eva’ seen. He an
investment banker up at swank firm in Manhattan during the 80s, so you know he sittin’PHAT-
but that SHOAS HELL don’t mean he work hard. Matta’ fact, all Patrick do is get his grub
on at classy joints, yap about bullshit, work out, get TURNT up at clubs, and worry bout
how pretty he look. When he not duckin’ his girl Evelyn’s
calls, hollerin’ at other ladies, and gettin buck wild with em, Patrick all about his other
hobby... MURDERIN’ PEOPLE. Don’t matter who it is or what they do, Patrick gonna GHOST
em. And when he do, it’s like he ain’t even tryna’hide it. Fool carry a body in
a sleeping bag round town and bring blood stained sheets to the laundromat like it ain’t
no thang-or what I call crimin’ while white... One day, Patrick chillin’ with his work
homies-includin a gay dude named Luis who want Patrick’s nuts BAD- when he run in
to Paul Owen, another investment banker who Patrick is straight OBSESSED wit’. Dis cat got da looks, daswagga’and manage
daswolest account in town- da Fisher account. Paul see Patrick and be like “oh what’s
good Marcus Halberstam?” Patrick just go with it... but who da hell is Marcus? As the book go on, Patrick’s mind be slippin’mo’
and mo’. Like when he at da video store, he start sweatin’ balls and runnin’ his
mouth bout how much he love seein a woman gettin drilled to death in his favorite flick.
Fool straight tweakin! Later, Patrick decide he gonna put dat boy
Luis in the dirt. So he roll up on him while he pissin’, but right befo’ he do, Luis
break down and say “I LOVE you baby!” When Luis try to get his mack on again, Pat
like “Yo I don’t usually give people no warnigs, but hop off or I will END yo ass!” Patrick get so bored with his yuppy lifestyle
of stacking cheddar, doin’ lines, and bangin’ biddies dat he jus’ go on killin’homiesleft
n’ right: kids, Evelyn’s neighbor, a homeless dude, an old dude, dogs, hos, his college
sweetheart- brutha even put an axe through Paul Owen’s dome. DAMN One night he decide to throw game at his secretary,
Jean. This girl been wantin’ the D as bad as Luis, so she THRILLED. At da end of da night, she invite him up to
her spot, but he like “Nah girl. I gotta return some videotapes.” She give him a
lil’sugar anyway, and Patrick start feein legit warmth towards her. A detective drop by Patrick’s office to
ask him about Paul Owen’s disappearance, but Patrick shake dat load off and dude don’t
suspect nuthin’. Then shit just gets out of hand: he kills
a little boy, mo’hos, does some REDONKULOUS stuff with a rat, and even tricks Evelyn into
eatin’a urinal cake with chocolate on it so dat it look like some fancy Godiva shit!
But watchin her eat it don’t feel like he thought it would, he breaks it off right there. Afta’dat, he goes HYPHY in this bitch. Fool
merc a buncha cops and even blow up a damn cop car. Afta’dodgin the law, Patrick roll
up to his office, break down, and leave a message fo’ his lawyer fessin’ up to all
his whack-ass deeds. Thangis, nothing ever happen after he confess. So he drop in at Paul Owen’s digs thinkin
he gonna find all the dead bodies he stashed there, but all he find is a clean-ass apartment,
nice flowers, and a real estate agent who kick his ass out. At dinner, Jean tell Patrick how much she
love him, and he thinkin’he should accept her love and start feelin’ like anything
is possible. Later, he run in to his lawyer and ask him
bout dat voicemail confession but da Lawyer like “David! yodat shit was hilarious!”
Patrick like “David? What? NO. I FO’ REAL’ killed Paul Owen!” “Psh. You couldn’t
have killed Paul Owen. I saw him in London twice 10 days ago. And Bateman? Man. That dude is such a lil bitch he couldn’t murder nobody.” Not knowin what da hell is goin on, Patrick
jumps in a cab, but gets jacked by the driver, who recognize him as the dude who murdered
his homeboy. In the end, Patrick jus’ chillin wit his boys in an uptown joint yappin’
bout bullshit and nuthin has changed. He say dateverything he’s done is what being Patrick
means to him. And... that’s it. When it come to this crazy ass book you either
think Ellis’s writing game is on point or it’s busted as hell. Some scholars say it’s
a postmodern classic, others say it’s a buncha violent, sexist bullshit. What do your
boy Sparky think? We’ll get to that later. But first, we gotta cover a couple things.
Fo’ one, dat fool Batemanis an unreliable narrator. I mean some of da shit that supposedly “happen” in this book is just straight stoopid. How we supposed to believe this dude just roll around town holdin’ bloody sheets without turnin no heads? And when he go HAM on dapo-lice at da end? Who dis cat think he is? Denzel Washington? One second it’s an all-out man-hunt in da streets, and da next he chillin in his office and errything
seem all good. Is this cat tryna’ bullshit dareader? And
check this- somethin’ real crazy happens in da narrative when it switch from first person to third person in the middle of the damn sentence. So is Pat just showin us the action movie
version of his fucked up fantasy? Or maybe none of it actually went down. Maybe all dis mess just proof dat Patrick losinhis damn mind and ain’t got no grasp of what’s
real and what ain’t. Or maybe it all DID happen, and just nobody trippin on it. All throughout this text we see Bateman TRY to get people to see him as the whack-job he is, but nobody eva’ does. We live in a society where crazy ass violence go down on the REG, and cuz o dat, people don’t even blink when they see messed-up shit right in front of em! What they sho as hell DO notice, tho, is their SHIT. When Bateman ain’t busy slicin’people
to bits o’ whateva, he spend PAGES runnin’ his mouth bout his expensive swag- stereo equipment, threadz, restaurants, bedsheets, business cards, where people get their haircuts, I could go on playa. People always goin off bout how Americans just stuck in an endless
cycle of consuming a buncha meaningless bullshit. Da most fucked up thing ain’t dat Patrick
reppin that to a T, but dat he do the same thing with PEOPLE. Shit he even STRAIGHT UP EATS some girl. UGHHH! It’s like Patrick cain’t even tell the difference between human beings and objects. Hell, there ain’t no difference between
people neither. Patrick always gettin’ called different names throughout the book and when
it happen, he just like “whatever, it don’t even matter.” When yo swag and yo status
is all you are, then you can’t really be a legit individual, ya feel me? So look- this book got some pretty raw things
to say about our society- and even though I dig the message, it ain’t my kinda thing.
To be real wit you- this book is just fucking BORING. The characters are paper THIN, and
most of the book is just a buncha rambling bullshit. Yeah, I get it. The book doing that
on purpose to throw shade at a society that’s just as shallow as the book itself. But to
this thug, you gotta captivate yo audience befo’ you can start preachin’ to ‘em. Ellis himself say it best: But hey, if this is yo thang- cool man. Different strokes for different folks. Thanks for kickin it with me today, Peace y'all!
