Sunday, January 27, 2008

Rich Boy Sending The Backpackers Back To School

Dirty South will rise again! Merely being conscious about your consciousness only makes it known it's not ghost of Terry Schiavo moving the Ouija board through your speakers. Knowing when to ask about touching that ass and when to get meta about the projects that raised that ass gets you off the pulsewatch and in control of the I.V. Religiously reciting the sacred hip-hop texts is academia regurgitate but lacing that crack with the sources, real talk!
Here's Rich Boy in XXL breaking it down on who those D's were being thrown on it for and why there's more D's than these!

That song is both heartbreaking and beautiful. The backing choir is like confession shot past a clueless father and falling straight into the heavens. With your feet half in the grave it's hard to know whether the voices are coming down from up top or shooting up from straight below. Unless they're coming from nowhere and the collection plate, taking in more money than the crack game, leaves you sonned with the realization that all you're left with is you.

Hell Up In Washington

I wish these guys were (half still) running for president. This is a double team no one would step to.

This would be their campaign song.

I guess for now we're raftin', upriver paddlin'
"We never voted, we votin' for Oprah, Obama, and Eric B.!"

Monday, January 21, 2008

R.I.P. Pooh Bear

I went to a punk show tonight, mainly to see friends, partly to see if my records arrived at the record store. There was a punk show inside railing against the usual punk trajectory of cops, government, system, whatever and outside a cop was busting a crackhead for bodily functions, he arrested those functions for appearing in an undesignated place (he peed on a wall). But it wasn't a white cop, or a black cop showing off for a white one, it was a black cop with no one watching but white and latino punk kids. It's just weird, two different levels of authority, all black, and the bottom feeders, black too, just containing themselves. "four crack dealers here, two there, you can get marijuana, crack, heron, it's all go" it's like there's no struggle, it's over. This is the dregs and the tea has lost it's flavor, it's being poured out and there are just some strained herbs waiting to biodegradably ethered.
"Security" as was written on his shirt, basically a dreaded and black Swayze from Roadhouse, telling me when he was younger he woulda layed that crackhead flat. Now it burns him up, he wouldn't be able to sleep at night, the acid in his stomach too hard to bear. So he just talks about how he could lay that sucker flat.
It was Little Haiti. Haiti's got people being shot left and right, no government. Aroudn me people were shooting up left and right behind closed doors, only to be given a shit about if they leave their confines. So yeah, I bought Lupe's new album about the streets in a place volunteer security calls crack alley. So i'm in tune, obviously. Lupe's got 21 dollars, the crack game's got donations to fiends mistaken for bums.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Torture is not unamerican! Or at least that's a half truth.

Why is there a whole lot of odd posturing in the search for demographic approval in the outlawing of torture? Shouldn't it be across the board? Be it the ACLU or Wesley Clark (who apparently didn't get his Vietnam Service Medal with 3 service stars serving in Vietnam) the subject of torture's inherent wrongness have moved from its inhumanity (or if washed out cynics would have it, its appropriate approximations of humanity's underpinnings) to its patriotic obliviousness. Now it's a litmus test for austere citizenship? Has no one read the declassified documents being dug up with the use of the Freedom of Information Act about our shady past (like our country wasn't founded and built on it)? Didn't it reach even Hollywood for standard bad guy patsy in geo-political 80's action movies to have the CIA as a shady organization that Judas Priests the shit out of the constitution?
To even regionalize it like that would suggest that while being Unamerican, that's what allows us to be the leaders of the free world, which either doesn't exist because we haven't had the privelege of freeing it, or shouldn't exist because we haven't had the privilege of bearing down on it Grand Inquisitor style, castigating the assbackwards variety hour it's continually hosting in which freedom is proved to be an asset of man's fundamental suffering and in need of being straightened the fuck out in complete opposition to the last temptations of christ (though I'm starting to think, final revelation and all, that that's the modus operandi). But really, that shit is universal! Geneva may soon be the site of a hot new American Apparel boutique shop, but that don't make it made in america!

Here's a 6 minute rundown far more effective than any of the campaigns taking up the blogadspace.