Wednesday, February 28, 2007

808s for the seeds



It's well known that I've had it out with Diplo in the past- 2 years ago we had a dust-up over a cancelled show and related load of money. Things kind of smoothed out when we shared a stage on Halloween, 2005 (photos of me in a pumpkin costume, Burnso and Dewey mixing martinis found here). Needless to say, we've never really been chummy despite mutual acquintances and friends.

However, I gotta go out of my way to big up Wes for something I just heard over at FiftyOneFiftyOne: Wes is stomping through the Australian outback and giving away all sorts of music equipment to aboriginal kids donated by sponsors he secured. Big up Wes.

Side note:
Come on out to Sal's tonight- I'm DJing with JJC in a Center City version of our old "Hump Day Parties." No cover.

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Whoadie got skates- Sweet release



For the first time since, I dunno, 2001, a Pittsburgh team whose name does not rhyme with Peelers or Kneelers has decided that the trade deadline is just too late to bail out on the season, trade all proven players and miss the playoffs. Usually a trading deadline is a signal to a Pittsburgh fan that it's time to bitch about the Rangers/Yankees/Red Wings/Red Sox. Congratulations Pittsburgh Penguins, you're good enough, you're smart enough, and doggone it, people like you.

I wish I could say the same for the Pirates, but they seem to think that buying a week of decent PR with a steriods-era veteran washup is going to cut it. Speaking of which, did you know that Barry Bonds' feet grew 2.5 shoe sizes and 10 jersey sizes in his time with the Giants? Fuck.

I just hope that after years of stupid allocations of public money to various blackmailing private companies (read: sports teams) for things like 65,000 seat stadiums that get used 10 times a year we finally build them a goddamn arena. It's a shame the casino initiative didn't do the trick, because that was a stupid idea too- they might as well have made it serve some positive purpose.

As for the actual trades- meh. Gary Roberts is so fucking old that they might as well have drafted his old teammate from Calgary captain Lanny McDonald, who had one of the great moustaches in recorded history (seriously, look at the photo, it will stun you). As for Laraque, I know he's tough and has a propensity to stage fights. I played in college with a guy from Montreal named Djata who had played against Laraque and apparently dude is fierce and all, but I really see a decreasing need for enforcers in the NHL unless they are completely integral to your other gameplans. There is also now a greater chance that G. Ryin (who works at the Igloo) will get mistaken for Laraque instead of the usual Larry Fitzgerald.

[PG: Roberts, Laraque to Penguins]

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Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Just Sayin Pentagon Papers- Storch vs. Timbaland

GentleWhoadie9000: we need to write an entry about how rediculous scott storch looks and how he made the astute point that timb's neck looks like a "pack of franks"
Skinny:



GW9K: dude is great
Skinny: "his clothing/lifestyle steez scream ancient rome"
granted timbo's been making the same two beats for three years now
GW9K: true
but he picked a good one to make over and over
Skinny: well he sort of goes through phases
but his fast shit all sounds exactly like "headsprung"
the new redman
the track from the game album
(the first one)
the slow shit's all on some beatbox rave jam
but
whatever he kills it
GW9K: re: that picture- it's one thing to photoshop your head onto something, it's another thing to photoshop your pallid legs feat. shower sandals
ed: photo also includes sock tan
Skinny: scott storch aka corinthian scott
GW9K: but seriously, every picture of him i've ever seen- it looks like he's dressed up as himself for halloween. dude needs to stop trying so hard and just wear some fucking jeans
his whole life looks like a themed bar mitzvah
timb alternately looks like he's "trying to be hard" or "suprised to hear that there is cake"



Skinny: timbo frequently looks surprised about smoething
of course when he opens hi mouth
all i hear is
boom boom click
beep beep beep beep
GW9K: kind of like when brian eno opens his mouth and you think that somebody is running their finger around the mouth of a crystal glass
Skinny: exactly like that
but on the real storch just looks like some frontin ass kid in your hebrew school class from mt lebanon
GW9K: remember orthodox east?
kind of like that
Skinny: what was that?
i don't think i ever saw them
they just got clowned real heavy in my presence
GW9K: it was kind of like the humble beginnings of a less talented group of scott storches
like "i'm the best baller in the whole JCC, where do i go from here but up?"
Skinny: i know where you're going
GW9K: only up means wearing your shower sandals in a pumpkin colored bathrobe
Skinny: straight to the dude with the oxys
GW9K: yeah
bingo
Skinny: pillz 'n' sandals

[Scratch: Scott Storch Timbo Diss- Streamed]
[Chazblog: Timbaland beats including Give It To Me (ed: that track is fucking fire)]

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Monday, February 26, 2007

Skinny to world: "I quit"

Somehow we missed this:

AP writes story about Ghostriding wherein Mistah F.A.B. "concedes that sideshows have gotten out of control. He said he would like to stage sideshows in large arenas where organizers could charge admission....'It would be like a ghetto NASCAR,' he said."



Here is the obligatory "in France they speak French" lede from that story, for those of you buried under a pile of white people:
"Ghost riding the whip" — a stunt in which a driver gets out of his car and dances around and on top of the slowly moving vehicle to a thumping hip-hop beat — has gotten at least two people killed, led to numerous injuries and alarmed police on the West Coast and beyond.

A fad among devotees of a West Coast strain of hip-hop music called "hyphy," the stunt has been celebrated in song and performed in numerous homemade videos posted on YouTube.
They also go on to say that "in October, a 36-year-old man dancing on top of a moving car fell off, hit his head and died in what authorities said was Canada's first ghost riding fatality." I wasn't aware that Ghostriding had gotten so out of hand that people were doing it in Canada. Frankly, that's the most alarming part of the article, because we all know what happens next- that's right, liberalized, responsible ghostriding. "Canada's First Ghost Riding Fatality" sounds like an indie band. No, wait, "Canada's First Ghost Riding Fatality Wolf." That's better.

[SFGate.com: Area man goes dumb dumb retarded, white people in state of terror]



In another car-related story, our boy Joey Sweeney tells you how good Espers sounds in his new InfinitiTM. Joey, I know how to drive, so you can just drop the keys off whenever.

[Philadelphia WillDo: Joey WTF?]

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Whoadie got crates- Exclusive Mix Edition



"Everything I do gonh be funky (from now on)" -Lee Dorsey

We're proud to present an exclusive internet mixtape release courtesy of Kenny Raw of West Philly's Tech Support Crew and the WestWax Collective. It's called "A Techsupporters Mixtape." For those who don't know, Kenny (aka Hank Raw, PI) is one of those rare animals dedicated completely and entirely to The Funk- hard funk, disco funk, rare funk, fast funk, slow funk and funky funk. Dude digs hard for the 45s on this tape, so appreciate it not only as a quality, bangin tape but also as the product of years of digging.1

The tape is in three parts, click on the links to access them:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

I have been working with Kenny- exchanging guest spots and such- for over a year now, and I can say that he is one of the most dedicated and serious DJs on the scene- a student of the craft, a digger and, it's gotta be said, a dog-shit terrible poker player. Kenny, it's not the cards, it's YOU!!!

[Myspace: Tech Support Crew]
[Myspace: WestWax DJ Collective]

1: Kenny once dug up a 45 that his mother had bought in the 1960s from a Sears in Queens. She had written her name on the label. True story.

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Friday, February 23, 2007

Puttin on the ritz



-"The Street Dream Tour"- Not coming to a city near you. (But going to some other cities instead).

-Ghostface: Irreverant, Talented, Odd, Beloved. Weiss Deini be countin strawberries in the hatchback. Hey Jeff/Ian, did he play Blue Armor? That's my jam.

-Beanie! We missed you!

-If you've listened to the Food Money Mix I put out in October, 2005, you probably know the brilliance of Eddy Senay and his version of Bill Withers' Ain't No Sunshine. Soulsides has got it on mp3.

-This weekend:
Friday: Apt One & Skinny w/ Aaron LaCrate at the Old Club, Swarthmore College.
Saturday: Philadelphyinz @ the Khbyer.

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Thursday, February 22, 2007

determine the floss



linkjawns...

-Bisexual condos!

-Bacon Clock!

-Mummy Hoody!
Zombie Bapes also on the way, each pair run over with Nigo's Bently 200 times individually.

-Chimps with spears!
We're fucked.

-Noz with the secret 3XKrazy download
Shhhh...

-Polow Da Don: King Of All White Girls

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Crispy



-New post up on Phawker by "some dude."

-If you want to catch up on your second-rate sports news, go over to Mondesi's House, where you get paid in autographed hockey cards to submit links. You can also surf from the sidebar to some of the hottest, most informative sites on the web, including a lawyers office and a fucking yacht dealership.

We've decided to start a similar system here. Send us a link or tip at nasescobar_privateeye(at)fuckmondesi(dot)cz and you are entered to win a day-long shopping spree with X-Clan and former Penguins goalie Ken Wregget.

-Maybe the times have passed me by, but when did hip start to look like this?

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Wednesday, February 21, 2007

don't blow my high

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Seems extra mean to give a dude with a lazy eye pink eye, but also extra hilarious! Hey Stu, you know what'll clear that right up? THAT PURPLE.

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credit goes to Deadspin for the flix. t-minus eight days until it comes up at Mondesi's House.

--

In other news, Explosions In The Sky played an impressive, if soporific show at the Society for Ethical Culture's concert hall last night. If you dint know, they did the score for the movie Friday Night Lights, and accordingly they had a dude with a flat-top run on stage and tear his ACL. Just kidding. Anyways, I never thought I'd describe a show as "grueling" and not mean in it a bad way, but "grueling in a good way" is all I really got. The set was an hour, give or take, and it was a continuous piece in one time signature and one key. Entirely modular. The band openly encouraged us to shut our eyes and enjoy the music, and thusly I fell asleep at least four times. But the experience was unique.

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Tip drill



I saw the Byron Hurt PBS jawn last night Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes- a documentary about masculinity in hip-hop and masculine charicatures of black males. It was reasonably well done but not a huge revelation (for me at least). I'm sure it was "useful" to PBS-watching middle-aged liberals who had never thought too seriously about this before, and I'm sure some felt their prejudices confirmed. (Eddie Murphy white voice: Why can't all black guys be like that Michael Dyson?) However, it did prompt me to want to write about some of hip-hop's more quixotic, puzzling and troubling characteristics. Furthermore, I think the frame of the documentary can be expanded to the blogosphere, where some of these issues have been raised before and discussed with varying degrees of insight and intelligence.

I have to chew on this one for a while.

Check back for more later.

P.S. For anybody who saw the documentary, how about when Busta Rhymes, when asked about homophobia in hip-hop, decided to go politely Tim Hardaway and then excuse himself from the room on some 5th amendment shit?

P.P.S. Jadakiss looked like he was going to turn into the Tasmanian Devil at any point during his interview.

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Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Don't hold no blocks



Fun with Wikipedia

Barry Zito
His page appears to have been written by some sort of stalker. Did you know his uncle was the dad from Step By Step? Now you do. Talk about being informed against your will, I just wanted to see what his record was last year.

Kufi Smacking
Yup, it has a wikipedia page. And yes, it's autistic as fuck.

Dos Noun
Who wrote this, and why do they think Skinny was a Jewel Thief? This will probably get taken down, but let it be known that the riot at Apollo Night at Allderdice High School is the truth- I was there. Considering this shit tells me about Dan's height, how come it doesn't mention he wrote for Just Sayin, or that he lived in my apartment? Somebody's fallin' off.

Raul Mondesi
It is unknown if substantial portions of this entry were written by Mondesi's House, but it is in need of a link to the "kufi smacking" wiki page. Anybody want to buy an autographed Just Sayin bobblehead?

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trap muzik



High fives to Jody Rosen for basically proving my point in last week's article on hyphy in Slate. Aside from the typical rockist blather ("here's why this rap is different from the rap you're afraid of!"), Rosen spends the bulk of the article defining terms and extoling the virtues of going dummy retarded for the civic good. The music itself gets glossed over. Far and away the best part of the article is where dude proclaims "we're just one breakthrough hit away from a hyphy takeover", after a good year of My Ghetto Report Card reviews proclaiming the movement already failed to take off. It's a little disturbing how excited Rosen is to see rappers dancing again, not only for the racist undertones, but also because his argument is bolstered by two three-year-old singles by New York emcees who have since seen those glory days shit on by "Chicken Noodle Soup" and the snap movement.


The sound of what you don't believe still true.

Dude also amusingly seperates hyphy rappers from Clipse and Jeezy by writing off the latter for "pretend[ing] to be coke kingpins". While this is partially Rosen's fault for not understanding basic slang (YAY AREA???), it also reveals a brilliant facet to the Hyphy Marketing Plan which I hadn't even considered: by moving the action from the corner to the party, America's urban crime problem magically disappears. If you buy an album by anyone on Hyphy Hitz, that illusion breaks down quickly, but the singles are all turf dancing and ghostriding and stunner shades. I guess there's nothing wrong with that, but it means a whole lot of grandstanding articles about rap being fun again, starting with Rosen.


Godfathers of hyphy.

Just sayin.

--

Anyways all I'm doin these days is listening to Tortoise, workin on the upcoming P-Yinz tape and waiting for the US to attack Iran. Apparently only inane articles that run a year let get me to actually post.

But while rap is a freakin ghostridetown, !!!'s Myth Takes, Menomena's Friend and Foe, Malajube's Trompe l'Oeil and In Flagranti's Wronger Than Anyone Else are all keeping the iPod warm. (His name is Magnus Samuelson III: The Rebirth. Get somewhat familiar.)

And indie rap is pretty much ok; Brother Ali's The Undisputed Truth and El-P's I'll Sleep When You're Dead don't disappoint.

Oh please head over to Mondesi's House,our partners in beef. We linked you so our humble readers wouldn't have to take our word for it about you playing yourselves. For the latest in five-day-old videos from Deadspin and College Humor, Mondesi's Jawn is the spot. Welcome to the interweb!!!!!!

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Cher is not art



Oscar Goodman is probably my favorite shitty mayor and my (second) favorite shitty Haverford College Alum. He used to be number three, but J. Howard Marshall's cartoon slampiece Anna Nicole bought the farm recently, essentially killing Marshall himself, who had lived on for years in her prostheses (science dude, science). Goodman, who is the CEO and party host of Las Vegas used to be a mob lawyer, defending Little Nicky, Meyer Lansky and others. Now he's a professional quote machine and bona fide insane person.

This past weekend he dropped the following jewel:
I don't want to see some gangbangers or hip-hoppers knocking over a jewelry store at Fashion Show mall.
A quick lesson in semantics here- gangbangers means black people and hip-hoppers also means black people but it could also mean Paul Wall or VIP.

And yes, please take a minute to imagine VIP at All-Star weekend (no yes John Amaechi)...Now continue reading.

I was in Las Vegas on Sunday (granted it was just the airport) and yes, there were some black people there. Fortunately, they were de-hip-hopped and dipped in bleach at security so shit was all settled.



What Goodman neglected to plan for were black people (or VIP) to rich to care about knocking over a jewelry store. Oops! Goodman, with his history of mob-related barristry (is that a word?) probably should have known that rich people have a tendency to be way way shittier than broke people. This applies doubly to drunk rich people and tripply to Pacman Jones. Pacman apparently hasn't learned to behave himself in the company of feuding, image-conscious reactionaries with access to firearms. You live, you learn.

By the way, my favorite Goodman quote from times past:

On graffiti writers:
You know, we have a beautiful highway landscaping redevelopment in our downtown. We have desert tortoises and beautiful paintings of flora and fauna. These punks come along and deface it...I'm saying maybe you put them on TV and cut off a thumb"
What Goodman deftly parries in that one is the fact that Las Vegas is a sprawling monstrosity eating massive tracts of desert land, surviving only through the flooding of some of the world's most picturesque canyonlands. Off with their thumbs!

[Wikipedia: Oscar Goodman]
[The Big Lead: Pacman Jones may need timeout again]

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Monday, February 19, 2007

Turf dancin' with the stars



I just flew in from California and boy is my patience tired (I had to lay over in Vegas for three hours with some folks who didn't get invited to play in the All-Star game). Fuck that. I'm gonna (one-plus-one) get it together and maybe liveblog unpacking and opening bills later tonight.

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Friday, February 16, 2007

Said Jon to Tucker


Cartoon from toothpastefordinner.com

-I would like to weigh in about the rediculous Mondesi's House non-story of Evgeni Malkin posing with some busted sixes outside the Igloo or wherever. Seriously, the picture is innocuous, the girls aren't hot and it doesn't come anywhere close to comparing with drunken quarterbacks. Drunken quarterbacks aren't really a story either. Stop it, you're hurting us.

-Annnnnnnnnnnnnd, apropos of nothing:

Courtesy of the Clog.

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Thursday, February 15, 2007

freeway got credit on smash

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What?

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Them cakes



News and notes:

-New piece by "somebody I know" up over at Phawker.com. It's part of a new column over there called "Pop In Tape." Don't worry, they don't pay, so the already low quality of our dear site won't drop any further.

-Yesterday I went to Amoeba Records in SF while the little lady went to the shoe store and saw Dave Chapelle tryin to cop some size 12s for his kid. I refuse to believe I didn't get the better of that deal.

-Tonight, the WestWax Collective gets serious over at the Mill Creek on 42nd and Chester. The Philadelphia Weekly blessed it, so shouldn't you?

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Wednesday, February 14, 2007

IS THIS RACIST? (indie rock edition)

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Above is the cover of the Village Voice from a few weeks back, featuring the results of their annual Pazz and Jop critics poll. Bob Dylan's Modern Times apparently beat out TV On The Radio's beloved Vanilla Ghost House Return to Cookie Mountain in the ratings. The Voice decided to celebrate his victory with a graphic of Shylock running over Bipster Santa Claus on one of those daytime-tv scooters.

While the assertion that Bob Dylan could put out a better more important more #1-on-a-critics-poll-worthy album than the OG Williamsburg hipster posse is the biggest problem with the graphic, one of the myriad dudes in Antibalas also thinks it's racist.

So mull on that, folks. But while you do, consider the source: a self-proclaimed floutist from a world music group.



(just kidding. Antibalas are dope.)

--

In other, non-racist indie rock news, the Arcade Fire opened their five night residency at a downtown church last night. Tickets sold out faster than you can say "Crown of Love" almost instantaneously for all five nights, which raises the question: how many consecutive nights would they have to schedule before they'd stop selling out?

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click-clack

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Slum Village - 4 Steps With Kids

Two possible scenarios led to this Slum Village track about seat belt safety.

1) With the American car market in free fall, T3 and Elzhi are concerned about the future of their city. They decide the best way to help the cause is to reduce the number of fatal accidents by promoting the use of seat belts.

2) Beef is brewing between the D and the Yay, as buckling your seatbelt is pretty much the opposite of ghostriding the whip.

Psych naw, this was actually a Chevy project. But it's pretty dope.

(spotted over at that good good)

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Tuesday, February 13, 2007

tom breihan, meet al davis

The Raiders are the Village Voice of the NFL.

When Moss (inevitably) gets traded, he will be the Robert Christgau of the NFL. Tom Breihan is either Warren Sapp or LaMont Jordan on a good day. The dude Ben Westhoff might be Robert Gallery.

I think this makes Idolator the Chargers. In an ironic meta-twist, it sort of makes the music blogosphere the hyphy movement.

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Monday, February 12, 2007

Ronnie Hudson, eat your heart out



Greetings from California. That's right, it's February and I AM BLOGGING OUTSIDE. I would prefer if you didn't point out the irony. Anyway, this is only the second time I've been this far west, and I have a few thoughts to share about good ol' Cali.

-The fact that Arnold Schwarzenegger is the governor of California isn't nearly as bizarre until you are forced to actually think about it in the context of everyday life like "Arnold Schwarzenegger is really sleepin' on that sales tax reduction." Seriously.

-$0.99 avocadoes are ill.

-I have been spending some time looking around for people to be mad at and I can't really find any. That actually pisses me off. People look pretty healthy, well dressed and pleasant. Assholes. In fact, I get a little pissed off when people don't assert themselves at stopsigns and don't cut each other off- I guess I'm pretty high strung. People also can't walk correctly here.

-Like some cities on the east coast, there are cameras which take a picture of your car when you run a red light. Here, they have to match your picture from the incident to the one on your license in order to ticket you. I'm borrowing somebody else's car, so what happens if I run a light?

-People on the east coast are unhealthy but more stylish.

-Most teenagers here look like they could be in the Pack if they were just a little more self-aware and a little less white.

-Some Euro dude may take issue with me on this, but it's kind of unsettling going from the east coast to the west where pretty much everything was built after WWII and therefore looks like uninspired shit. No basements? What the fuck is that? I haven't even seen any Deco, which was the last tolerable architecture style. How come we can't make anything that looks good any more?

-Philly is the shit. Hater 'til the end!!!



Other shits:

-Our homeboy Jayson has a column in the PW, and you better believe he's blackity black, y'all.

-The Avalanches, who have been incarcerated or on a secret agent mission or something since the release of their absolutely mind-bending LP Since I Left You have resurfaced. Discobelle got ahold of some of their new shit, predictably, it's fucking awesome. It has a very dance-pop feel- less Shadow-esque than Since I Left You. Given The Avalanches vast resevoir of creativity and talent, I can see them absolutely owning clubs in 2007 if they so choose.

Skinny and I have talked about our advantages as club DJs who came of age in the era of crate-digging and rap, when you had to be skilled, knowledgeable and shrewd to get in the door. Guys like Cosmo Baker or Klever fall into the same category- they are adaptable and seasoned. The Avalanches have elite-level old-school chops on production, so they have the inside track to the takeover. Peep it:

Ray of Zdarlight (zshare from Discobelle)

-XXL's newbie Billy Sunday came on after Sickamore had a wild meltdown over Jamele Hill's take on the Darrent Williams shooting. Now he (Sunday that is) has gotten comfortable and turned in his best piece so far. He uses the Grammys as a starting point to explore the unrealistic marketing expectations in rap. Perhaps the volume of street material "necessary" to stay in the game is killing the game by diluting it. Hmmmm.

By the way, the real Billy Sunday had a mad interesting life, even if he was a crazy-ass evangelical charlatan.



-Roy Hobbs raise up: Pirates pitchers and catchers report on Thursday. Maybe this will be the year we win the big one don't suck donkey balls. Here is your rundown of Pirates-related internet resources:

Where Have You Gone Andy Van Slyke- Pat is a very sharp up and comer in the blog game

Bucco Blog
- The best SABRmetric Pirates resource, with complex analysis and projections

Pittsburgh Lumber Co.- Home of the Pirates roundtable, where the writers of the aforementioned sites converse over the issues of the day

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Thursday, February 08, 2007

the circle of life

Anna Nicole Smith just passed away.

so it's just like your mother always told you, every time a professional basketball player comes out of the closet, a Celebreality star dies.

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Delphi and bourbon



He emerges- the oracle, black and gold Yoda- levitating flatbeds stacked with Iron City high above the swampy River Mon.

People often forget that Myron Cope is one of America's greatest living sportswriters. Before he was Pittsburgh's drunken, avian-voiced zeitgeist in the Steelers broadcast booth, he was writing some of Sports Illustrated's canonical pieces. However, he persevered as the shitfaced William Hung of sports broadcasting for so long that most have forgotten how eloquent he can be.

Give a read to Myron's public statement imploring Mario Lemieux to keep the Penguins in Pittsburgh. He heaps the history on Lemieux's head and reminds him that no matter how great his is/was, Mario ain't nothin' but a young buck compared to Cope.

[Post-Gazette: Hey Mario, I'll Worsh Your Dick in Tabasco if Yinz Move 'Dem Pens]

[Wikipedia: Myron Cope]

[Arlin's Myron Cope Sounds]- an absolute "must visit" for non-Pittsburghers. Once you've visited this link, you'll understand completely and fully why Burnso and I named our DJ tag-team the Myron Cope Experience and why there is no god football team but god the Steelers.

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Tuesday, February 06, 2007

What happens in space stays in space



I'm sure you've heard about the murderous astronaut tryst by now. Shit has been bouncing all across the newswire like some kind of trailer park Star Trek episode.

Sometime around 2 or 3 AM I will be finished with a rough edit of my Lifetime Original Movie screenplay of Houston Love Triangle (Subtitle: She Was Just AstroSayin is All) It will contain a zero gravity sex scene to be released as an unedited DVD extra.

[NYTimes: We completely made this shit up]

Speaking of Kool Keith:

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Space trash



Unless you have been trapped underneath a pile of white people for three weeks, you probably know that Nas has dropped three remixes of Where Are They Now - versions 80s, 90s and West Coast- (peace to Rizoh on the zshare). Nas seems to have been collecting those "Have You Seen Me" postcards from the mail, saving the ones with rappers on them and then chasing them down, dogcatcher style. Hold tight for the 2000s remix (no Billy Sunday) featuring Vordul Megillah and the one guy from Black Eyed Peas. I think they should have put Too $hort on all three, but I digress.

Not to be outdone by Nas, Weed Carriers has dropped Where Are They Now- Weed Carriers Remix, paying homage to many of the great bag handlers of recent memory. Dice R.A.W. makes an appearance, but doesn't garner any extra credit for his former juvie green handling status- maximum perks, minimum punishment. Mike Zoot shows up too. No word if he has a collection of used copies of Superrappin or Heavy Beats, but I think it's safe to say he's got a few rooms full. If it takes Pharoahe Monche five years to get a post-Rawkus album to press, Mike Zoot must be eating Ramen hard-earned by erroneous downloads meant for Mike Ladd.

Dos-Noun often tells me stories of rappers he encounters during his European tours. I'll hear about Afu-Ra finding the one province in some European country where his brand of "real-hippen-hoppen" still sells, usually on account of legalized cannibus or, in his case, a fetish for Japanimated rappers wearing drapes doing drunken karate on stage- "the body of the life force is so...fucked up right now." Mr. Eon sells real estate on 2nd and Chestnut and can't explain himself to his coworkers. Often times I ask myself, "What is Jeru tha Damaja doing right now?"



In a related story, I went to the audiologist today to get my ears checked (on account of fierce tinnitus) and get some slick earplugs for musician types like myself. I knew I was in good hands because these guys had an autographed 8x10 of All-4-One in the waiting room. [Head Explosion] Talk about "Where are they now." So many questions with this one. Their wikipedia page says they're from California, how did they end up at a Philly audiologist? Did all of them go to the doctor together? Did they get a referral from the guy in Boyz II Men with the cane?

[unkut: Where Are They Now- Weed Carriers Remix]
[The Rap Up: Where Are They Now Remix (80s and West Coast)]
[The Rap Up: Where Are They Now Remix (90s)]

P.S. I'm open to hear some suggestions for 2000s Where Are They Now candidates.

Update: According to sohhNYC, Nas has some interest in turning this whole Where Are They Now thing into a reality show, but not on some "what happens when Roxanne Shante has to share a bathroom with Rah Digga" shit. He actually thinks these people need to be talked to. That is so 1994. Do click the link though, because it contains the text of The Source's 5 mic review of Illmatic. Makes me yearn for simpler times.

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Monday, February 05, 2007

Comin' out swingin'

That is a big ol' Philadelphyinz walrus right there. (From Phawker)

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40 days and 40 nights



In today's edition of JS2000 Theology Corner, we'd like to ask for some sagely input from some of the many many clergymen who regularly read this blog to, uh, keep up on their rap music. We have some deep and existential troubles stemming from last night's Super Bowl game, which was full of seemingly irreconcilable moments which may shake our faith to its very foundations.

First, since Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith are both unabashed men of the LordTM, how come Tony Dungy wins (clearly due to the LordTM's favor, as he correctly attributed post-game) but Lovie Smith loses? How can a GodTM be equal parts benevolent and cruel, all the while crusading against our enemies in Iraq and San Francisco?

Second, since football is the LordTM's game, how come the Super Bowl was clothed in a thrust by the homosexual enemies of almighty GodTM? Cirque du Soleil- Sodomites. Prince- traipsing about in garments meant for womenfolk. Snickers- a pawn of the evildoers, possibly al-Qaida, definately Democrat. Danielle Manning, Chevrolet. Where does it end?

Guidance.

P.S. Lovie Smith does not dance.

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chirp, chirp back (superbowl edition)



As Prince let into "Purple Rain", GW9K texted me and said "this is dedicated to Terrance Kiel."

Also, Nathan Vasher and Jeff Saturday were nominated as the honorary Jews from either team. Hey, it's in the Talmud.

And while I'm amazed that Blockbuster thought it wise to resurrect the animated guinea pig and hamster from 2003, I was more amazed at the movie about the black swim team starring Terrance Howard. That's like a Family Guy joke.

Oh and I hope everyone caught the reenactment of Iwo Jima that preceded the national anthem.

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Sunday, February 04, 2007

Pablo Neruda's "Ode to a year ago at this time"



It really was fucking
awesome
when the Steelers won the Super
Bowl.
and I
reveled.
euphoria of a
triumph.
I really didn't
have a lot
to do with it. except
near
ulcers during
AFC Championship
losses.
before XL, just
lost my
job but I didn't
give a fuck for about 2 weeks.
the money started
to run
out.
canned beans.
victory.
protracted
orgasm but not
homoerotic.
Wholesome, christian jewish christian.
Football.
Remember, remember
what that was like.
Dude.
so I'll take
the Bears to
cover because
Walter Payton
was my favorite as
a child.
But today just
reminds me
of last year.
My dear your
lips,
they are so soft.

Steelers dude.
Stillers.

[Elementary Odes by Pablo Neruda] (Mos def peep "Ode to a large tuna in the market" cheah!)
[Post-Gazette Photo Gallery- Steelers Win Super Bowl XL]

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