Man, just look at him. He thought his night was going to be great. He’s dressed up as Po. Po! That’s the best Teletubby! But then Duke happened. So… you know. That. Feel better, dude. There’s always Halloween. 😦
“I ain’t the dish-rag you can clean up all the $hit that you dish out”
Come for the hook, stay for the Alabama delta visuals. That and the very last line are unmistakably RAP. The rest of this lives in some rhythmic hangover of mixed Delta Blues, Country, and Acoustic Guitar spoken word. It ties together the weekend’s blur, and lulls you back into the rest of the week. Yelawolf may have signed to Shady Records, but he’s clearly not looking to sound anything like the Marshall Mathers. #JoggingMusic
Last Friday, when I wrote about the endless march of the Russet, the last thing I was expecting was to incite a violent potato coup d’état. But no more than an hour after my post went up, my sister sent me the picture of this mutilated potato, with the caption, “Just found this in the parking lot.” Not cool, you guys. Not cool.
Yes, the Russet is an endless machine, an infinite point of starch on the human timeline. No, that doesn’t mean we need to launch a full-on potato smashing assault on taters. We’re human beings. There’s no reason to demonstrate so violently. If you need to feel superior to our Russet overlords, just challenge them to a written debate. Potatoes are notoriously terrible with punctuation. You can laugh at the Russet’s futile attempt to incorporate semi-colons into its writing.
Honestly, I’m just really disappointed by this whole debacle. Sure, I feel somewhat responsible for building societal outrage at the Russet, but more than that, I’m let down by what I thought I knew about humanity. I thought we were above this. I thought we learned we can resolve differences peacefully. But, no. There’s always some asshole who has to escalate things. Don’t be that asshole. Don’t smash potatoes.
Here we go again. Another weekend, another race debate in America. We can’t believe we have to blog this shit, but the tides of headlines forced us (maybe for the better) to release a piece we’ve been considering for a while. In a moment caught on tape (In 2015, you should always assume someone is listening), Andrew Harrison muttered “fuck dat nigga” in response to Frank Kaminsky’s perfect-season ending performance. Predictably, people got upset. Cue the N-word discussions. Continue reading Andrew Harrison, Frank Kaminsky, And What It Means To Be Called A Nigga In America