whyhellothere
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Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
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Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
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Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
Originally Posted by whyhellothere
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
this gonna be a on new tape?
Originally Posted by whyhellothere
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
this gonna be a on new tape?
we #1 in the east though, who gave permission to quote me anyways?Originally Posted by LLCoolMichael
*Looks at sig*Originally Posted by Taj gibson
Originally Posted by LLCoolMichael
Exactly. And they !*%% with Based God, who has family ties with SB. I think if they all merged together it would be
No wonder you mad.
we #1 in the east though, who gave permission to quote me anyways?Originally Posted by LLCoolMichael
*Looks at sig*Originally Posted by Taj gibson
Originally Posted by LLCoolMichael
Exactly. And they !*%% with Based God, who has family ties with SB. I think if they all merged together it would be
No wonder you mad.
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
Originally Posted by whyhellothere
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
�
this gonna be a on new tape?
to my knowledge, it's gonna be on Mike G's next album, Gold
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
Originally Posted by whyhellothere
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
�
this gonna be a on new tape?
to my knowledge, it's gonna be on Mike G's next album, Gold
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
Originally Posted by whyhellothere
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
�
this gonna be a on new tape?
to my knowledge, it's gonna be on Mike G's next album, Gold
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
Originally Posted by whyhellothere
Originally Posted by SirDilbert2k10
this new Mike G single produced by Left Brain is pretty dope imo
�
�
�
this gonna be a on new tape?
to my knowledge, it's gonna be on Mike G's next album, Gold
[Earl]
Uhh, addicts arise, when I arrive
In this cracked crack %#* back slap in disguise
Fat sack of knives in the passenger side, %!%@%
Reach for the door, get your access denied
[Tyler]
Iâm not an @!!#$$% I just donât give a %%@% a lot
The only time I do is when a %!%@% is screaminâ âTyler, stop!â
The big bad wolf to me youâre just a minor fox
Red ridinâ is gettinâ some of this wolfly otter @+$$
The dwarf *#%%@* Chrisâs %+% with the knife. âWhat are you hiding in here?â he said. The point had just bumped into something.
Chrisâs %+%: kkyphtsllmb
âNothing,â Chris said. Or maybe he just thought it. It might not have made it as far as a word.
The dwarf buried one hand inside Chris, felt around, and returned to the world . . . well, a handful of gore to be blunt. But there was something peculiar inside it.
Difficult reading, to be sure, but Cooper has a punk rock elan to his writing, a vitality that pushes along this excess as an end in itself. And yet, over time, a numbness sets in, a cool, easy kind of horror thatâs close in spirit to the doped-up gore and lethargy he depicts. For those of you who bothered to read the second chunk of Bolañoâs2666, itâs a similar concept, just realized as something hypnotic and transfigurativeânot merely exhausting.
But Cooper, for all his charred sublimation, hits you hard without ever seeming excited in the same way that OFWGKTA is. And excitement of some sort helps you feel as though youâre not simply being put on by a conceptual joker. Maybe itâs the benefit of performance that lends OFWGKTA their sense of joy, though I have trouble imagining that a book on tape is the missing ingredient in Cooperâs artistic supremacy.
When I listen to Odd Future, the closest parallel I can come up with is Futurism. The early-20th-century Futurist poet Filippo Tommaso Marinettiâs high-energy verses about the beauty of warfare are (in nearly tragic ways, today) pumped up for all the wrong reasons, and similarly out to force the modern world on us in ways that turn the new and uncomfortable into something ordinary. If you canât adjust, Marinetti and OFWGKTA imply, itâs your own problem. Certainly, his role is to do nothing more than hammer away with the best modernity has to offer, love his job, and spit at anyone who ends up with his feelings hurt. Yet Marinetti is, to say the least, problematic, as Walter Benjamin obliquely noted in âThe Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproductionâ and countless others have since. Spectacle, as stimulant and necessary assimilation, puts volume and aesthetic at the forefrontâwith nothing bringing up the rear. This was the popular and intellectual rationale for fascism, both in one place. So itâs not as though we want a new hip-hop Marinetti in the world.
Maybe, then, the answer is Russian modernist Vladimir Mayakovsky. Mayakovsky has Marinettiâs love of spectacle, but heâs also a hopeless egoist; before he fell under the sway of the Revolution, the energy and irony of the Modern spectacle were meant to be enjoyed, not only by the reader, but by the individual, who, in his poetry, is always to varying degrees present. Thereâs no blustery detachment in Mayakovsky or in Tyler the Creator. The celebration and assimilation of spectacle plays itself out on a purely personal level in his best-known poem, âCloud in Trousers.â For example:
I feel
my âIâ
is much too small for me.
Stubbornly a body pushes out of me.
Hello!
Whoâs speaking?
Mamma?
Mamma!
Your son is gloriously ill!
Mamma!
His heart is on fire.
Tell his sisters, Lyuda and Olya,
he has no nook to hide in.
Each word,
each joke,
which his scorching mouth spews,
jumps like a naked prostitute
from a burning brothel.
This particular mixture of brutality and levity has always appealed to me. When I first started FreeDarko.com, ostensibly a website about professional basketball, I used an alarming number of Al Qaeda and Hamas photos, stills from Takashi Miike films, and gutted animals. I took sports too seriously; death and destruction, perhaps not seriously enough. I probably owe someone an apology, and am not entirely sure what this achieved in terms of integrity. Yet this duality, however puzzling, is more alive than slapping on a Halloween costume and pretending it's your face, or presuming that ripping off every face in sight is a statement in and of itself. There needs to be a beating heart underneath the one freshly yanked out of someone else's chest,Mortal Kombat-style. Otherwise, the language of shock repulses, no matter how complex its ends, or thoughtful the response. OFWGKTA draw us in because, despite their youth, sub-cultural niche, and deliberate obscurity, their act isnât insular. There is a universal here, one that goes beyond hip-hop, or language, and touches a nerve that many of us may have never known we had in the first place.
[Earl]
Uhh, addicts arise, when I arrive
In this cracked crack %#* back slap in disguise
Fat sack of knives in the passenger side, %!%@%
Reach for the door, get your access denied
[Tyler]
Iâm not an @!!#$$% I just donât give a %%@% a lot
The only time I do is when a %!%@% is screaminâ âTyler, stop!â
The big bad wolf to me youâre just a minor fox
Red ridinâ is gettinâ some of this wolfly otter @+$$
The dwarf *#%%@* Chrisâs %+% with the knife. âWhat are you hiding in here?â he said. The point had just bumped into something.
Chrisâs %+%: kkyphtsllmb
âNothing,â Chris said. Or maybe he just thought it. It might not have made it as far as a word.
The dwarf buried one hand inside Chris, felt around, and returned to the world . . . well, a handful of gore to be blunt. But there was something peculiar inside it.
Difficult reading, to be sure, but Cooper has a punk rock elan to his writing, a vitality that pushes along this excess as an end in itself. And yet, over time, a numbness sets in, a cool, easy kind of horror thatâs close in spirit to the doped-up gore and lethargy he depicts. For those of you who bothered to read the second chunk of Bolañoâs2666, itâs a similar concept, just realized as something hypnotic and transfigurativeânot merely exhausting.
But Cooper, for all his charred sublimation, hits you hard without ever seeming excited in the same way that OFWGKTA is. And excitement of some sort helps you feel as though youâre not simply being put on by a conceptual joker. Maybe itâs the benefit of performance that lends OFWGKTA their sense of joy, though I have trouble imagining that a book on tape is the missing ingredient in Cooperâs artistic supremacy.
When I listen to Odd Future, the closest parallel I can come up with is Futurism. The early-20th-century Futurist poet Filippo Tommaso Marinettiâs high-energy verses about the beauty of warfare are (in nearly tragic ways, today) pumped up for all the wrong reasons, and similarly out to force the modern world on us in ways that turn the new and uncomfortable into something ordinary. If you canât adjust, Marinetti and OFWGKTA imply, itâs your own problem. Certainly, his role is to do nothing more than hammer away with the best modernity has to offer, love his job, and spit at anyone who ends up with his feelings hurt. Yet Marinetti is, to say the least, problematic, as Walter Benjamin obliquely noted in âThe Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproductionâ and countless others have since. Spectacle, as stimulant and necessary assimilation, puts volume and aesthetic at the forefrontâwith nothing bringing up the rear. This was the popular and intellectual rationale for fascism, both in one place. So itâs not as though we want a new hip-hop Marinetti in the world.
Maybe, then, the answer is Russian modernist Vladimir Mayakovsky. Mayakovsky has Marinettiâs love of spectacle, but heâs also a hopeless egoist; before he fell under the sway of the Revolution, the energy and irony of the Modern spectacle were meant to be enjoyed, not only by the reader, but by the individual, who, in his poetry, is always to varying degrees present. Thereâs no blustery detachment in Mayakovsky or in Tyler the Creator. The celebration and assimilation of spectacle plays itself out on a purely personal level in his best-known poem, âCloud in Trousers.â For example:
I feel
my âIâ
is much too small for me.
Stubbornly a body pushes out of me.
Hello!
Whoâs speaking?
Mamma?
Mamma!
Your son is gloriously ill!
Mamma!
His heart is on fire.
Tell his sisters, Lyuda and Olya,
he has no nook to hide in.
Each word,
each joke,
which his scorching mouth spews,
jumps like a naked prostitute
from a burning brothel.
This particular mixture of brutality and levity has always appealed to me. When I first started FreeDarko.com, ostensibly a website about professional basketball, I used an alarming number of Al Qaeda and Hamas photos, stills from Takashi Miike films, and gutted animals. I took sports too seriously; death and destruction, perhaps not seriously enough. I probably owe someone an apology, and am not entirely sure what this achieved in terms of integrity. Yet this duality, however puzzling, is more alive than slapping on a Halloween costume and pretending it's your face, or presuming that ripping off every face in sight is a statement in and of itself. There needs to be a beating heart underneath the one freshly yanked out of someone else's chest,Mortal Kombat-style. Otherwise, the language of shock repulses, no matter how complex its ends, or thoughtful the response. OFWGKTA draw us in because, despite their youth, sub-cultural niche, and deliberate obscurity, their act isnât insular. There is a universal here, one that goes beyond hip-hop, or language, and touches a nerve that many of us may have never known we had in the first place.