Chucky’s Shade: Nas Daily Needs To Go To Better Parties And Work On His Maths

Nas Daily recently published a video that proves you can have five million followers, but no friends. At least not in Malta…

He was practically worshipped as a god when he visited our island last April, but the viral online sensation that is Nas Daily has started making the rounds again locally, and this time it’s a lot less positive.

Nas made the mistake of coming for our national pastime: partying. Talk about Oh My Malta!

If you’re a foreigner planning to call Malta your future home, you must know that there’s a trinity you cannot speak ill of. The three untouchable traditions are togas, festi, and all-nighters-at-Havana… in that order. So when the Israeli-American vlogger had the audacity to say that parties were a waste of time, we audibly gasped as a nation.

And while it’s fair to say that drinking and clubbing may not be everyone’s cup of (Long Island Iced) tea, Nas’ take down is frustrating because the math just doesn’t make sense.

Staying true to my Maltese roots, I’m going to grab the argument by the tail-end first. The conclusion he draws (on a paper he awkwardly fails to rip later) is that partying wastes 20 hours of your life. That’s 20 hours any individual could have been spent at home working or relaxing.

And that’s where his first mistake lies.

Nobody, especially anyone who has previously braved the steps of Paceville at 1:00am, is going out under the illusion they’re there to relax. Nobody slurs an order for a tray of tequila and looks at the barman in confusion when he doesn’t whip out the hot stones and incense.

We’re going out to dance, to let loose, to makeout with a cute foreigner (and/or a palm tree we mistook for a cute foreigner). Nobody is being bamboozled by the system into making poor decisions.

It’s not often that the Maltese shoulder responsibility for things, but when we wake up after a heavy night out, we all know it was on us. At the time of writing, the sign doesn’t read Footloose Spa and Holistic Center – it clearly says Footloose – Sticky Floors, Large Pitchers, Many Regrets.

The second mistake he made was assuming people take 12 hours to become fully functioning human beings once more.

Sure, hangovers are a bitch when you first wake up, but if you can slut-drop at Gianpula all night long, you quickly learn how to work through the throb.

He can count to 20, but he can’t do fractions because that’s not what ripping a paper in half looks like.

Unlike his patronizing clips in the past, this particular video wasn’t aimed directly at the Maltese. But the fact that we all felt it was a jab means there is definitely something to be said for Malta’s lax views on the overconsumption of alcohol.

Does this mean we should draw the conclusion that partying is bad? Absolutely not.

It’s a hollow argument to blame the problems caused by alcoholism on a fun night out after a hard working week. This mentality leads to dangerous conversations about abstinence being the only solution.

Oversimplifying a problem that heavily is as crazy as saying it takes you three hours to get ready before showing a clip of yourself wearing the same crusted t-shirt you’ve called a uniform for three years.

Seriously, if you’re going to take three hours to get ready, you’d better walk out looking like Rupaul on the main stage – tuck and all.

This elaborate, one-minute sermon comes as Nas shifts into a new stage of his life, so it’s not surprising he’s trying to force a narrative about his persona.

After over two years of daily videos, he’s fast approaching the end of this series, and in his latest clip admitted that a political career is on the horizon for him.

Leaving a squeaky clean legacy is clearly important, but if he wants to appeal to the young voters (who he says are misrepresented), Nas should be out there doing the Jersey Turnpike with them – not trying to guilt them out of their next big night out.

The nights I drank too much and forgot are some of my worst, so it’s important to always monitor your drinking.

But the nights I spent with just the right amount of tequila pumping through my system are the ones I’ll keep (annoyingly) repeating to my future grandchildren – and lifelong memories are something worth spending 20 hours on.