Does It Add Up?

Healthy skepticism is an integral component of a functioning society. Without it, misunderstandings, half-truths, and lies become part of the permanent record.

So why is it exceedingly rare to find men and women willing to dish it out?

The obvious answer is that people don't enjoy the uncomfortable feelings associated with inevitable pushback. I'd argue there's an equally compelling reason... namely, our BS-detection reflexes atrophy from lack of use. In other words, Americans have lost the ability to recognize squirrelly situations because we've been conditioned to avoid challenging narratives.

Take, for example, the recent media tour for the latest Tupac Shakur biography. While this might sound like a pop culture nothingburger, it actually does a great job illustrating how susceptible we are to sleepwalking through minefields of discordant claims.

The book's author, Jeff Pearlman, has appeared on a wide variety of platforms to promote its release. His big hook to wow audiences involves a tearjerking recount of his role in reuniting the birth mother that inspired Tupac's 1991 song "Brenda's Got a Baby" with her biological son. It's a lovely sentiment that will now forever tie this self-described white guy from rural New York to one of history's most beloved black musicians. But did it really go down the way he said it did?

Maybe a better question would be: how many inconsistencies are allowed before doubt creeps in? One or two are probably natural byproducts of rehashing an anecdote. Three or four gaffes could be chalked up to embellishment, I suppose. Anything more than that deserves scrutiny.

In this case, there are a bunch of contradictions. For starters, in the opening paragraph of the GQ amuse-bouche he penned to whet readers' appetites, Pearlman states he met Davonn Hodge for the first time in early April 2023, at least ten days after their initial text contact. This conflicts with the two-day difference he later cited as a guest on the "Rich Eisen Show." When you combine this discrepancy with when Davonn's mother allegedly entered the picture (in GQ, weeks passed; on the "All the Smoke" pod, it shrank to days), a trend starts to form. The biggest problem? GQ's editors would have to reinvent the fourth dimension to reconcile any of these timelines since they all revolve around her serendipitously being in Davonn's hometown of Las Vegas to see a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert... an event that definitively took place on the first day of April!

Speaking of the mom, Pearlman makes a point of depicting her as someone who vanished. The language he uses in the GQ article gives the impression that she did this almost immediately after dropping newborn Davonn down a trash chute. It's not true, according to Pearlman's researcher, Michele Soulli, who said, "(the birth mother) would go visit him when he was adopted... she was allowed to visit, and she did for a number of years." Davonn himself (confusingly) confirmed visitation continued through second grade when talking to Matt Barnes.

Then there's the account of the song's origin itself. In multiple interviews, Pearlman emphasizes Tupac telling Omar Epps how inspired he was by a newspaper article he read before going back to his trailer. Yet in the GQ article published the same week as the PR hits linked above, Pearlman insists Tupac's message was relayed to an anonymous production assistant. Which one are we to believe? Well, the latter version is reinforced by Epps' own remarks on the matter.

I could go on about Pearlman's inability to match Davonn's age with the year being discussed. While this might seem excusable at first blush, one would think any biographer worth his salt would've committed to memory how old Davonn was when he reunited with his mom. In light of everything else, it's worth mentioning.

Isn't it strange that a penman with a yearslong connection to this specific topic keeps making these kinds of mistakes? Whether it's indifference to carelessness or a calculated move, it raises the possibility that his coverage lacks veracity. Not just the stuff in this opus; as a general rule.

Playing devil's advocate, authors benefit from buzz generated by juicier tales. Is it crazy to speculate that Pearlman might sell more books if he took some liberties with Tupac's legacy... especially after labeling the Hodge circumstances "the greatest reporting moment of (his) career" or "one of the best journalism-find stories that you've ever heard in your life?"

[Relatedly, he leveraged the Brenda story as a "gateway" to get sources to engage with him.]

Just so you know who we're dealing with here, this isn't Jeff Pearlman's first sensationalist rodeo. After Brett Favre's star lost its shine, Pearlman temporarily wielded the 'don't buy my book about that quarterback' card. To some, this came off as a noble gesture. Warier folks view it as a crafty tactic designed to squeeze royalties from a crusty hardcover by capitalizing on breaking news. Considering Pearlman went to a similar well with Barry Bonds, it's kinda difficult to defend him.

Mike Ditka certainly felt Jeff was in it for the money. After learning of Pearlman's Walter Payton biography, the coaching legend expressed his desire to spit on the sportswriter.

NBA icon Jerry West vowed to take a project based on Pearlman's work to the Supreme Court. Yes, television production adds an extra layer of complexity -- albeit one Jeff had a hand in. Still, it's no surprise to see Pearlman stand against the athlete, then churn out a stilted response (complete with references to his book and a nod to its inherent profit motive) upon West's death.

In retrospect, basically every hero he's dedicated a whole tome to hates him. Roger Clemens, called him "a low life wanna-b." Bo Jackson was so perturbed by Pearlman's unauthorized portrayal that he personally called bookstores to request they cancel events linked to the scribe. Oh, and let's not forget John Rocker. Who knows where their careers would've gone without the controversy tied to the former closer... a saga that Jeff has predictably tapped into for years.

[Incidentally, Pearlman's drama isn't limited to the subjects of his biographies. He has wished literal hell upon the Tebow family. Simply holding a different worldview can get you on his list, as evidenced by the frequency with which Jeff casts residents of his hometown as bigoted rubes. Even kids carrying American flags aren't safe from his wrath.] *

To recap, this guy with an enormous cloud over his head for the last 25 years has popped out of the woodwork again spouting flawed gossip. Do shows deny his booking? Nope. Do they force him to explain why the aforementioned sports gods despise him? Barely. Do they probe his own very public disdain for the Hall of Famers he's covered? Na. Do they mildly fact check him? LOL.

I want to stress that my research only took a few hours to compile. Ergo, outlets that remotely value their credibility could've produced an actual hard-hitting segment worthy of clicks. Fellow reporters have, thus far, squandered the opportunity to give him a taste of his scummy medicine.

Instead, glad-handing rules the day. Channels get to upload sticky content. Their audiences are titillated by unsubstantiated yarns. And Pearlman adds another bestseller to his resume.

The only losers? Individuals he's disparaged and anyone concerned with candor.

It doesn't have to be like this. As Pac said, real eyes realize real lies.

Embrace your inner cynic; then flex those muscles. Chide seasoned journalists who gloss over warning signs visible from space. Demand accuracy and accountability. The truth depends on it.

Note: the post above may contain commentary reflecting the author's opinion.

*One has to wonder if the adolescent rejection he endured in Mahopac morphed him into a parasitic celeb chaser.

Image courtesy of Elimende Inagella