• » Name: Meka Soul
• » Location: Los Angeles, CA
• » Member Since: 04/09/07
• » Bio: Providing clarity in hip-hop since 1981.
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

The Wide World Of Fuckery

I’ve pretty much spent the past two weeks of my so-called life in a catatonic state so to speak, bemused at the bullshit that surrounds this arena I chose to pursue a career in, from simple shit such as dealing with beak-nosed tall Israelis whose very existence seems to be dedicated to bringing others down, or having to keep your cool and maintain your focus while the world and all its infinite glory decides to start fucking with you.

Enough about my trivial problems however; that ain’t nothing booze can all but fix, and being that I live in a city that has nothing but bars and clubs around me, I’m a hop, skip and a jump away from drinking away the pain. Not to mention, many of those places play music by artists who are having their own problems, so to speak.

It’s almost a damn shame when the most sensible artist on the planet at the moment happens to be a dreadlocked jig with his own checkered past, but then again – and I hate to use duke’s vernacular – really, not really. If anything, the past two weeks have proven nothing except that hip-hop – despite being in its thirties – is still a juvenile (no “Ha”) essence, not unlike the Happy Meal and wet dream.

No better are the “fans” of this rap shit too. In my ever-so-humble opinion, cyber-fans are essentially the most bitchmade of the bunch, with the culture itself essentially broken down into three groups: the hater, the stan or the e-goon, the latter of which is more feminine than a yeast infection. Damn if the shit isn’t entertaining at times however, and it’s even funnier when an artist steps out of pocket from catching feelings over an Internets heckling.

The fuckbwoy sensation isn’t only limited to just rap music either, although some theories claim that it just started there. I’m probably like the other 98% of the world (you know, the meaningful percent) who’ve never heard of Sarah Palin prior to a few weeks ago, and when given a chance to prove herself on a national scale twice, she came across as both an idiot and a bitch. I’m almost half-tempted to fill out this voter registration form that’s been sitting on my couch for the past few days just so I can give my vote to the right person: Ralph Nader. Yeah, I’ve said I’d vote for the Black guy only because he’s a Black guy, but you yentas know I live to flake out on shit. Why the hell you think I’ve been gone for two weeks anyways?

Outside of my issues with the management, that is.

You’ll have to excuse me while I slowly get my bearings back, as it may take a while to fully return to shit talk mode and embrace my inner nihilist. But give it time; I’m sure I’ll be back to calling your favorite rapper a butt-fucking fruitbag with the lyrical skills of a premature ejaculator soon enough.

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