I was once convinced that Eddie Murphy was the new Richard Pryor. I didn't have much basis for my reasoning; I was an eighth-grader whose principal exposure to the art of stand-up comedy was a handful of well-worn, frequently swapped George Carlin and Robin Williams cassettes. Here were two black comedians who cursed up a creative storm, stringing together a fountain of "shits," "goddamns," and "motherfuckers" that couldn't help but put my 13-year-old suburban self into convulsive fits of laughter. It was hard not to become Murphy's and... More >>>