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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Tokyo Buffoons

I could turn this thing into a long dissertation about how hip-hop fucks with its audience's own self value system, but I just saw some expensive kicks with my name on them. Myself, in Wednesday’s comments section

Two days ago I mentioned how there are those schmucks still out there equating their material possessions with confidence. Now usually I’d simply call these homos dim-witted oxygen abusers for that fallacy, but not I’m beginning to see that’s it’s not necessarily their fault for being so easily manipulated into believing so.

Then again if someone is actually that retarded to believe so, I recommend a hearty dosage of the holy hand of fire across the face. I bet if people slapped the shit out of their children more often we’d not have them scrambling the brains of innocent bystanders in an open-air donkey market in the Middle East when they ether themselves with a prayer and some plastic explosives. But let’s save that tale for another time.

Next to their glaringly obvious attempts at making crack sales appear like a legitimate career choice (be sure you clinch and twist while you’re in there, homie. Naux haux maux, of course), rappers today are more label pushers than the ideal motivational speakers they used to be, so much so that I actually remembered about Artful Dodger via some random-ass rap song than from the novel he was in. Even I’ll admit that’s fucking pathetic.

And let’s face it, people: we’ve all been influenced somewhat into purchasing a whole heap of bullshit we really didn’t need, only to rarely use them at all. But when I saw a shitload of greasy-faced teenagers rocking their father’s old-ass blazers with the velvet elbows in the dead of summer, some shit just isn’t right to begin with. Hell, even during my college manwhore days I stocked my closet full of throwback jerseys, though in my defense I realized how dumb it was to try to rock a Wes Unseld joint to a job interview and pushed those bitches off like they were new on eBay.

I believe that hip-hop plays a huge role in shitting on its listeners’ own value system, and the cracka-ass (Israeli?) monopolies capitalized on the despondent demography’s utter lack of self-esteem to push expensive, gaudy products under the phony guise that they’ll gain social acceptance through their material possessions. This is why you see so many dingleberries getting shot, stabbed, robbed and snuffed the fuck up for some rubber, leather and nubuck fashioned into a $200 pair of Jordan sneakers: to get that same feeling I get when I slide into some vagina when they're around their peers, which is just wrong. I doubt that it’s really worth a lifetime of being used as currency in prison though, unless those that actually pull that shit off welcome the tingly sensation of another man touching him on the inside…

This all revolves back to what I feel is a lack of proper parenting. Had the children been trained to actually realize that rocking a chain made from the tendons of South African coalminers (no doubt employed by the Israelis) is not a proper expression of their own internal confidence, perhaps then we wouldn’t have so many homo thugs running around with fagtastic teardrop tattoos and more chains than the good ship Amistad. On an unrelated note, you wanna know how I know your favorite rapper isn’t a gangsta? If the muh’fuck wears makeup during a music video or commercial shoot, which, sad to say, is every fucking rapper that does a music video. And to think we all raise our glasses and toast these quasi-homosexuals.

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