NME 2000

The following is the entire INTERVIEW transcript from Eminem's interview

with www.nme.com (New Musical Express magazine), for their April 18th

issue. NME is London-based. 

Yup, no need to worry about Eminem going 'soft', he's as angry and f_cked up

as ever ... threatening to rape NME, railing against boy/girl bands and, oh

yeah, he's got one or two things to say about "f_ggots", too.

Slim: 'They're gonna get me on a stage and dress me up like a f_ckin'

chicken! What the f_ckin' Backstreet Boys is f_ckin' AWN in here!?'

Slim Shady has entered the building with a pterodacty-sized bee in his

lovely blond bonnet, not so much walking as detonating towards the stage of

a theatre in the back of a New York college. That college is called The

John Jay College for Criminal Justice. Right from the start, it was going

to be one of those days. Marshall Mathers/Eminem/Slim Shady, the

tri-headed, virtuoso Concept MC, is many things to many people; The Great

White Hope of Hip-Hop, the voice of The Real America, shock-pop-sicko Menace

To Society, pornographic hate-all sexist homophobe would be Patrick Bateman

of rap, uber-cute hip-hop dreamboat du jour, punk, cartoon, comedian,

genius. D_ckhead and the greatest pop star on Earth in a world awash with

say-nowt professionalism in a universe built on the bollocks of bland. He's

arrived in a silvery track-suit ensemble, blond barnet hidden under a

backwards baseball cap, his entire 'personnel' (security, officials, chums)

as befits a multi-million-selling US rap sensation. And, right from the

start, you realise he's a bit of a one our 'Emily'. He's either deathly

sullen, saying nothing at all, or he's shouting his head off, having the

time of his life. He's a fairly small (5ft 9ins), dough-skinned man of 26

years with astonshingly bright, light, cool blue eyes-of-the-perverse. His

infamy precedes him, or rather the infamy of his alter ego, the gun-toting,

bitch rapin', girlfriend murderin', drug-munchin' living embodiment of bad

attitude that is Slim Shady.

Starved for years now of a bona fide cartoon anti-hero rock 'n' roll

superstar, the Eminem phenomenon is open season on willfully

offensive/illegal conceptual high-jinks and the media haven't had this much

fun since the Beastie Boys, the Happy Mondays and Liam Gallagher in their

inaugural Madferit Years. Unfortunately, then, Eminem has turned into

Marshall Mathers. The follow-up to '99's frothingly debated 'The Slim Shady

LP' is called 'The Marshall Mathers LP', but no one taken any notice. They

believe he is Slim Shady but they're wrong.

In 2000 Slim's public appearances appear to be confined to the grand

entrance and playing to the gallery, lewd-lipped court jester to his

charming and mirthsome chums, MCs Proof and Champ, and, right now, is where

we're 'at'.

We're filming a little for the NME website, www.nme.com, some easy,

generic questions, and Slim finds this mighty hilarious. He's perched

guffawing, on the college theatre's scarlet-red imperial couch affair

shouting his head off.

'Why do I have to answer stoopid f_ckin' questions,' he blares, 'why can't

anyone be angry any more!?! (Begins an overview of every single interview

he's ever known) Which Spice Girl do I wanna impregnate!? What's it like

working with Dr Dre?! How big is my D_CK!?! Eleven and a half

centimetres.'

MC Proof: '(giggling) What's it like being a white rapper?'

Slim: '(To NME's notebook) That's a question on there, ain't it!?!

Yes it's the first one

MC Proof: (genuinely appalled) 'Are you serious?'

No, hur hur ' Right come on then, and remember I'm not in this OK?

Slim: 'You will be. I will pull you in.'

Which song of, of all the songs in the world, describes you best? And why?

Slim: 'What the f_ck is this? Trivia? (Begins feeling up the couch,

sings) 'I'm too sexy for this chair.' I don't know which f_cking song

describes me the best! "I just don't give a f_ck", my song, describes me

the best, 'cos it's about me and it's basically talking about people like

you.'

What's the worse trouble you've been in?

Slim: 'The worst trouble I've been in, besides from my VD, Herpes,

syphillis, AIDS'..Why am I telling this? (Grins) Why do you people deserve

to know this about me? I dunno if that was bad, or when I raped six 12-year

old girls. Those are the top two things I've been in trouble for. I got

away with all of 'em. I'm here! Right now. About to rape you. Take a look

at this lady. Would I rape her? Would I rape this innocent'.OK, I would

rape you. Y'want me to rape you right now? We can get that. How about,

f_ck the boring questions! Let's get raping you."

What would you do if you were invisible for a day?

Slim: 'I'd jack off in front of everybody. This is like grade school

questions. What if red was blue.'

How do you react when you see a nun?

Slim: 'When I see what?'

A nun.

Slim: (Immediately, at 850 decibels) 'YAAAAAAARGHHHHHH! (NME hits the

ceiling and lands back on the ground, Em's friend guffaw like madmen) 

That's how I react when I see a nun. Next!'

Which song would you have played at your funeral?

'A Backstreet Boys song. Are we done? OK! My name is Marshall Mathers and

I'm signing out, I hope you're watching this at home, fuckin murdering

people right now as you watch.'

Thank you for sharing that with the class Marshall (I'm off, etc).

Five hours previously. We're in Eminem's management offices in mid-town New

York City, a three-roomed space he shares with Cypress Hill and Kid Rock,

multi-million selling platinum discs and posters everywhere, to hear five

tracks from the forthcoming 'The Marshall Mathers LP'. It's astounding, for

reasons you do not expect.

Track one, "Marshall Mathers"; a gloomy, slow-beat diatribe against the

boy-girl band phenomenon, how they're all 'f_ggots', including a wiggly

poodle-rawk solo geetar 'work out' from 1986.

Track two, "Stan"; a slow watery affair featuring a selection of digs via

letters (Dear Slim) at his obsessive fans who 'need counselling'.

Track three, "Criminal" A grave diatribe against the population of the

planet who took him literally and believe he is a criminal ... I'm a

CRIMINAL, he barks, then robs a bank and shoots the female worker dead.

Track four, "B_tch Please 2"; something slightly funky featuring many guest

vocalists which informs us he's 'a criminal making money off the worlds

misery' (a direct quote from an anti-Eminem Billboard magazine editorial)

and jibes 'using the f_g word so freely? Suck my f_ckin d_ck, f_ggots, you

happy now?'

Track five, "The Real Slim Shady"; an upbeat nursery rhyme which goes, 'I'm

Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real slim shady, all those other Slim Shadys are

just imitatin'' mewls, 'you act like you never seen a white person before!'

(squeaky girl's voice: 'yeah, but he's cute, tho'!') before booting in the

boy/girl band phenomenon once again.

It's dark, wearily self-conscious and, for the most part, mirth-free. Gone

is the hilarity, the unique and inspirational MC wordplays, the send-up of

the violent, amoral, 'white-trash' America which created him, the point of

Eminem/Slim Shady in the first place. It's replaced by straightforward

speeches against teen celebrities, the media, at those who didn't 'get' him

... NME is crushed, nothing whatsoever makes sense, and so slopes off to a

deli where they're blaring out Robbie Williams' "Angels" and contemplates

The End Of Music.

'What the fuckin' Backstreet Boys, N Sync, Britney Spears is fuckin' goin

AWN in here?'

Slim Shady has entered the building which houses his management office and

systematically booted over three office chairs in succession, flinging them

into the middle of the floor. And now everything goes really wrong. This

morning, Paul Rosenberg, Eminem's manager, the Hip-Hop Lawyer, a very big

man with very intense eyes, the same manager as that of Cypress Hill, saw,

for the very first time, NME's two-week old Cypress Hill cover story. He

'freaked out' over this 'f_cked up s_it' and cannot believe the same

journalist and the same photographer have been sent to exactly the same

place to cover Eminem. This morning, for many hours, the story looked to be

cancelled outright.

Paul: 'Can I have a word?'

Oh dear, NME is up before the beak. We're in Eminem's own office, a

smallish room housing a leathery sofa, a red punch bag, a five-foot wide TV

and some filing cabinets (no desk). Here, for ten minutes of an already

short, hour long interview time-slot, NME is quizzed over the 'mocking' tone

of the speech-bubble Cypress cover image (such matters are the Editor's

decision alone) and 'the gay issue' as it's now become known, with reference

to Sen Dog's ill advised 'honest' opinions which Paul 'didn't know about'.

Now, with Eminem's new LP making liberal use of the 'f_ggot' word, he's

convinced this NME 'team' are hip-hop hunt saboteurs, deliberately sent to

mock and expose the world's hip-hop heroes as anti-gay bigots. Which is

absolutely what it looks like (and was never the case). Thus, declares Paul

there will be no talk today of 'f_ggots'. Just last night Eminem told Paul

he wants to talk, these days, 'about the music'. And that's that. And now

the interview can proceed.

Ten minutes later ... oh look it's MC Hammer. Haw haw, no it's not, it's

Eminem wielding a very large hammer in the direction of NME's head. Not

content with the 'raping', he's now, it seems, going to kill me. Goodbye,

readers, it was a blast while it lasted.

'This,' he's saying, 'is for the journalist who asks the wrong question. 

(Begins attacking punchbag, bawls really really really loudly) 

AAAAAAAARGHHHH! I'm sorry! (Absolutely screaming his head off) SORRY! 

I'M SO! FUCKIN' SOH-RAAY!!!! (Now bawling out of open window) I'M SOOOO

FUCKING SOH-RAAAAAYY!' And now Paul's come back in to see what all the fuss

is about, already. 'I'll take this away', says Paul, pinching the hammer

off him and leaving.

For the next ten minutes, as interview time evaporates completely, a farce

ensues, Eminem spilling an entire can of coke, accidentally, all over the

floor, for which he blames NME, Paul is summoned back in to mop it up around

our feet with a woman wielding some Flash carpet cleaner. Then, finally,

we're alone.

'Drugs,' says Eminem, out of nowhere, 'I love drugs. D'you wanna do some

Ecstasy?' It's a sick, sad, sadistic, selfish, violent, hedonistic,

bewildering, hateful, hysterical, insecure, paranoid, speeded-up, Godless

and loveless world run on greed, fear and injustice and Eminem is its

mirror, the first Hip-Hop Superstar of Self-Loathing, the worlds first

'white-trash'/trailer trash' icon, his place in history already secured as

Jerry Springer: The Musical. You either turn the misery into mirth, or you

kill yourself, and where Eminem has thought hard about the latter [ once he

downed 20 sleeping tablets which only made him throw up ] he settled instead

with the former.

Born Marshall Bruce Mathers III on October 17, 1974, he was raised all over

Detroit's underclass neighbourhoods by his 17-year old mother, Debbie, and

no father, who he's still never met. Marshall and Debbie lived on welfare,

he moved schools four times a year, she popped pills (Tylenol, she

'introduced' him to it), he discovered hip-hop, aged nine, through his uncle

Ronnie, who was Marshall's age. At 12 he helped raise his half brother

Nathan and meanwhile, was beaten up continually, usually by black kids,

once, aged 15, so badly he sustained a brain haemorrhage and was

hospitalised in a coma for nine days. That year, he failed the ninth grade

three times and dropped, his mother telling him to 'get a fucking job' while

she played bingo all day, he alleged. He's been shot at, held at gun point,

known suicide (his beloved Uncle Ron, aged 19), murder (his Uncle Todd shot

his brother-in-law dead) and all the while became a unique and exceptional

MC, while simultaneously being booed off stages by the predominantly black

Detroit hip-hop scenesters and told to give it up, white boy and move into

rock 'n' roll. He worked as a minimum wage cook from age 16, had a long

standing on-off relationship with his girlfriend Kim, saw the birth of his

daughter Hailie Jade on Christmas Day, 1996 and was duly sacked from his

job. Something snapped and Eminem effectively did kill himself, replacing

his rap persona with the venomous alter-ego Slim Shady while living with Kim

in crack-house neighbourhoods with bullets flying through the trailer

windows. Over two years Marshall and Kim were robbed of four TVs and five

videos and, one time, the robber took everything but the couches and the

beds; pillows, clothes, silverware, everything. He was discovered in '97 by

Dr Dre via the LA Rap Olympics, signed to Dre's post-NWA Aftermath label on

Interscope, recorded 'The Slim Shady LP' in 12 days, start to finish. On

its release, Debbie duly filed a $10million lawsuit for defamation over the

most infamous line in '99's global hip-hop anthem, "My Name Is": 'I just

found out my mom does more dope'n I do'. This suit remains in litigation,

Debbie insisting, from the outset, 'Marshall was raised in an alcohol and

drug free environment'.

Today, Eminem's life is tattooed all over his body: arguments with Kim

resulting in a tombstone tattooed on his stomach; 'Kim: RIP (Rot in

Pieces)', a mosaic of magic mushrooms all over a shoulder, underneath which

is written 'Ronnie RIP' while 'Hailie Jade' runs the length of his forearm.

Eminem is a great deal more serious, alone, than you'd ever imagine. He

speaks slowly and carefully, slouched down into the back of the sofa. He

loathes interviews. He has no grand philosophies to offer on the events of

his turbulent life, he doesn't blame, not his family, his country or the

world, and merely accepts, 'I been through a lotta sh_t'. For today, at

least, forget poverty, politics and the meaning of it all, his greatest new

enemy is the gleaming toothed-spectre of teen pop.

'Boy/girl bands', he's seething, 'little watered-down pop groups, made

bands, somebody sticks 'em together and makes something that's artificial,

that's f_ckin' phoney, knowwhumsayin'?'

It's bizarre, almost like he's just noticed it for the first time. Then

again, it's never been this ridiculous, never, ever. But perhaps it's also

personal.

Did you feel you were categorised alongside them? You'd become a teenage

scream-fest icon and a great many 12 year olds don't care whether you're

Eminem or a member of N-Sync.

'Right' he furrows, 'I mean, the way that I look, people might confuse me

with that. If anybody listens to my record they'll know I'm not pop, but I

think it's the blonde hair thing'.

And you're terribly good looking as well, you see.

'Uh,' he says, startled, with the hint of a smile, 'thank you. But um.I

just wanna make sure that people don't put me in that category (becoming

annoyed) 'cos everytime I turn on a f_ckin' TV, I'm seein' a f_ckin'

boy/girl group, this sh_t is so f_ckin' corny, and it's so f_cking

commercial and so pop, this sh_t is fake, trash, horrible. (Shouts) Life is

not that happy! Life is not all about butterflies and birds and f_ckin'

singin' and bein' happy an' love songs and sh_t like that'.

Don't you blame the music industry itself? They've saturated the world and

the very young will always take what they are given.

'Yeah!' he booms. 'But this sh_t's gotta stop somewhere! You can only

rhyme f_ckin' 'fire' and 'desire' and 'heart' and 'fall apart' so many

times, knowwhumsayin', and I'm sick of seein' it, sick of hearin' it, and if

I lose my fans 'cos they find out Eminem doesn't like N Sync, I don't give a

f_ck, knowhumsayin', f_ck N Sync, f_ck Backstreet Boys, f_ck Britney Spears,

f_ck Christina Aguilera, f_ck all that bullsh_t, that sh_t is trash to me,

f_ckin no talent, knowhumsayin'?'

How come you've reffered to all these boy bands as f_ggots? And we're going

to talk about this once, and talk about it fast, OK?

'F_ggot to me', begins Eminem wearily, the world's first erstwhile Hip-Hop

gay icon, 'doesn't necessarily mean gay person. F_ggot to me means p_ssy,

cissy, if you're a man, be a man, knowwhumsayin' that's the worse thing you

can say to a man, it's like callin' 'em a girl, whether he's gay or not. 

Growing up, me and my friends, f_ggot was a word, like (Whiny teenage

derision), 'your're bein' a f_ckin' f_g, man, you're bein' a f_g', nobody

really thought gay person, I never thought, 'You're bein' a gay person.' I

don't give a sh_t about gay, if they wanna be then that's their f_ckin'

business. (Holds hands up) Don't try that sh_t on me, don't come around me

with that sh_t but, hey, as long as they ain't hurtin' nobody, ain't hurtin'

me, whatever, be gay, do your thing, if you take it in the a_s, you take it

in the a_s, you suck di_k, whatever, that's your business, knowhumsayin'? 

Just don't come around me with that sh_t, that's all.'

Why would that freak you out so much anyway?

'(Addresses NME as an alien) Why would it freak me out? A man suckin'

another man's di_k?! I just said it! A man suckin' another man's di_k.'

Why go on about it all the time? This obsession? Who, you know, gives a

sh_t?

'It's because hip-hop is all about manhood,' he states, 'it's about

competition, about bein' macho and it just goes with the territory. I don't

think people sit there and focus on it in the hip-hop community. If you're

battling another dude in a freestyle battle, calling him a f_ggot, you're

choppin' down their manhood. But I don't sit and think about it. To tell

you the truth. And I'd rather go on to something else, if we may.'

So now you 'know'. It's all, of course, about culture and politics, the

'f_ggot' conundrum as fundamental to hip-hop as Benjamins, blunts and

bi_ches. The ghetto, the underclass, call it what you will, is an

emasculated place, void of the male 'birth right' of dignified work, money,

power, security and paternal respect. For the most part it's fatherless,

fueled by pain and a hatred for the men who quite simply f_cked and left.

Hence the hip-hop hero is a Superman. He's no liberal, he's got a problem,

no wonder, but he's not the man planting the bombs to blow the gay man's

limbs off. Eminem and Sen Dog are as homophobic as the average man in the

street. Target them all you like, but there's a handful of pop stars on the

planet, and several million geezers, and they're always geezers, in the pubs

across the globe a billion times worse that they are. The world remains

f_cked. In the meantime, you do what you can, fight the fight and know thy

real enemy. Knowhumsayin?

Eminem, it must be said, employs the most effective use of the word 'f_ck'

you ever did hear. It comes out of his mouth like a super-speed, super

sting, bare skin whiplash. Expert's precision. It's incredibly sexual. 

But he probably won't appreciate that one bit. He's still reeling from

becoming sex symbol. 'I wasn't cute before', he's seething, 'and suddenly

girls are throwing themselves at you, literally, it was extremely f_cking

weird to me.'

Are you deliberately trying to alienate your really young fans with this

record?

'Ah, not really. I wasn't trying to do that. I was trying to speak my

mind. (Makes lengthy speech about Will Smith 'offending' him with his line,

'Write one verse without a curse') Will Smith don't gotta cuss in his raps

to sell records, good for him, I do 'cos this is me, so f_ck him and f_ck

you too, knowhumsayin'?'

Are you tired of being funny?

'Um'..yes and no. I've just grown up. (Becoming annoyed) 'Cos people didn't

get it! So maybe just for this album, I don't feel like being funny

anymore, knowhumsayin?! I feel like I'm dead serious this time I'm a MC.'

Last time I went home to see my mother I found her in the shed standing next

to a shovel and thought about battering her over the head with it,

specifically because of one of your lyrics; are you pleased with that

reaction?

(Flatly) Slim Shady is very pleased. He tells you he's very proud of you.

But she's a pensioner. The woman's got angina!

'What's that?'

A heart condition

Slim: '(Sarcastically) Oh sh_t. I'm very sorry about that.'

Oh dear. You seem really bloody unhappy to me, quite frankly.

Slim: 'To tell you the truth,' he states, evenly, 'fame is not all it's

cracked up to be. Fame is work, it's a lotta bullsh_t. My life story, my

life, is like, for the public to view now. And that sh_t don't make me

happy. It's a Catch-22, I'm thankful for every fan that I get, but on the

other hand, I'm not happy, I've had to deal with racism, critics, reporters

askin' stoopid f_ckin' questions, being too personal, about my life, or my

daughter, something like that. I gotta keep some sense of privacy about me,

some sh_t just isn't peoples business, knowhumsayin'?"

D'you regret being so open in the first place?

Slim: 'No, I don't regret it, 'cos I'd rather be asked for autographs and

pictures than not, knowhumsayin', but at the same time I can't say I enjoy

24/seven. I'm not gonna lie.'

Welcome, then, to Celebrity Lifestyle 2000: The Truth. The Eminem

Phenomenon is, in fact, a precise microcosm of the nature of nu-celebrity

itself, in a world where you do become, literally overnight, a Superstar. 

From the moment you wake up the morning after, The Machine will put you to

work in the supersonic media conveyor belt to burnout oblivion, a gigantic,

multi-layered global conspiracy to exploit your moment, for maximum profit,

no matter the cost to your mind, your soul, your relationships, your music

or your future. If you're Westlife you go mad, you lie, you grin and bear

it. If you're Graham out of Blur/Richie Manic/Kurt Cobain you go mad and

take it out on yourself. If you're Eminem, you go mad, you get madder and

madder and you take it out on the immediate world around you. He's obsessed

with other peoples opinions. He watches himself on TV and doesn't recognise

what he sees. 'It's like I don't know who I am', he says.

You've a massive battle self-consciousness, haven't you?

Slim: 'Huh?'

You're super self aware. And it'll lead to the asylum rocking chair, mate,

and we don't want that.

Slim: 'Yeah, but I'm humble. I'm confident, but I'm humble. It's just now

I've got an opportunity to speak on it, I'm gonna f_ckin' dish it back to

everybody who gave it to me. That's the one part that I do love about it. 

I sit back and wait for people to diss me. Who's the next person? And if

someone does diss me I will f_ckin' demolish your self esteem. I will

f_ckin' say everything I can in my f_ckin' power to hurt you and make you

wanna jump off a f_ckin' bridge'. 'knowhumsayin'? (Taps temple) I think I

was given this ability to put words together like I do, in order to do this.

That's how I came up, in hip-hop circles, in battles, Mcing, and through

arguments with my mother, fights with my girl, period, that's just how I am.

I'm a very spiteful person if you do me wrong.'

Do you run on vengeance?

Slim: (Immediately) 'Yeah'

That's your main motivation?

Slim: 'Yeah. Probably. As far as ... yeah.'

Has being successful made you like yourself any more?

Slim: 'No. It's the same.' He sinks further into the sofa. 'I honestly

did think, once I got my record deal and sh_t, that I wouldn't have sh_t to

talk about. I thought, 'What if sh_t is all happy? What if it is all good?

And I'm not mad any more?'

So you feared happy?

Slim: 'Yeah! I did, I guess. That I wouldn't have the venom and the f_ckin'

fire.'

And then, would you believe, he returns once again, to the greatest source

of his new-found 'venom and fire', this time in the form of the yodelsome

pop-gonk Christina Aguilera.

'Christina Aguilera!' he's blaring, 'on MTV, talking about my personal

f_ckin' business on MTV?'

What d'you mean? What's she been saying?

Slim: 'She was sittin' around with her little giggly-ass friends,' he spits,

'they picked my video, in the top ten of her favourite videos or some sh_t,

and I had respected her until she said this about me: she said something

about Eminem and then one of the friends said (Girly-wirly voice) 'Yeah he's

cute, but isn't he married, though?' And totally blew it. Like me being

married, I wasn't trying to blow that sh_t up and make it a f_cking huge

issue, I got married, that's my personal f_ckin' business! (Girly-wirly

voice) 'I think he's married, yeah, and doesn't he have this song about

killing his baby's mother and' stuffin' her in the trunk? Y'know, I always

tell my friends, domestic violence and blah blah blah blah blah blah.' First

of all that song was not meant to be taken seriously, that song was my sick

psychotic thoughts, 'cos she doesn't know what was goin' on in my personal

life when I wrote that song, my daughter was being kept from me, but what

she doesn't know, what the giggly little girl doesn't know, is that the same

girl that I said I stuffed in a f_ckin' trunk I married! I married her. 

Y'knowhumsayin'? So she was runnin her mouth and not knowing the f_ckin'

facts.'

You don't take much too lightly do you?

Slim: 'No, I don't take that shit lightly!'

And so it comes to light that Eminem, some time in the past six months,

married his childhood sweetheart, the girl immortalised on his stomach by a

tombstone.

How did you propose?

Slim: '(Appalled) Propose? I said 'Let's get married, bee-yitch'.

'To tell you the truth,' says Eminem today, 'I have more money than I know

what to do with.'

In one year. That's bizarre.

'Yeah,' he nods, matter-of-factly, 'I went from not being able to afford

nothing to limitless money, almost.'

Well, at least that's been fantastic, hasn't it? Some form of real

security, for the first time, at last?

'It is,' he says, ' 'cos I can buy my daughter anything she wants, any time

she wants it. And that's the best feeling in the world. And that's when I

realise what I'm doing all this sh_t for. I like the music and I have fun

recording music, but I'm not selfish, if it's not making money and it's not

putting food on the f_ckin' table, I'm not gonna' keep doin' it for ever. 

Hip-hop is in my blood and I feel like I was meant to do this but, y'know,

what it all boils down to is, I'm not gonna be young forever. Next in line

is my daughter. She's gonna have everything when she grows up. And she's

gonna be able to go to college and be something I wasn't. 'Cos if I didn't

have this rap sh_t right now, I wouldn't have anything. I'd be a cook. So

what it all boils down to, as much as I hate doin' the interviews and photo

shoots and all the extra work that comes with the territory, that's what I'm

doin' it for. So that my daughter's future is secure. So that when I die,

if she never makes anything of herself, God forbid, I want her to do

something, be a model, do music, be a doctor, anything, I'm gonna have that

money there for her, but if she doesn't become anything, she'll still have

that money knowhumsayin'? I want her future to be set.'

And it's much more important to you than your own future?

'Yeah,' balks Eminem, and frowns deep into the bridge of his nose, like he's

never heard anything so ridiculous in all his life, 'of course it's more

important to me than my own. It's about her now. We're put here to make

children. That's the reality of it. We're here to reproduce. And I

reproduced. So now my life is for her.'

And this, make no mistake, is the most emphatic statement Marshall Mathers,

Eminem or Slim Shady when he was screaming his head off, has made all day. 

By a million billion miles.

Seeing as you're three people now 'Marshall, Eminem, or Slim' ... if those

3 were walking down the street towards you, how would you describe them?

Slim: 'Marshall Mathers would be a regular person,' muses the living

embodiment of the 21st Century, 'Eminem would be a nice guy and Slim Shady

would be a f_ckin' a_shole, a complete di_k.'

Which one d'you want for a friend?

Slim: 'Marshall'

Which one d'you most admire?

Slim: 'Slim Shady'

Who'd win in a fight?

Slim: 'Slim Shady'

Who's the smartest?

Slim: 'Eminem'

Who's the loser?

Slim: 'Marshall'

Who's the winner?

Slim: 'Slim Shady'