The things that define me, keep me from making progress. I guess I just kept eating all my eggs, hoping it would change. I’m not sure if it works, but kicking that bear’s ass, in front of an old lady, certainly moved some kind of marker for me to let it go and begin again.
I started to read the audition sheet they wanted me to memorize in a short time. Pick one of five brands, each with a paragraph describing a new product. One of them was McDonald’s, It was for some new chicken bullshit. Everyone in the room was white, and it felt like we were all eating at a bad cafeteria whose owner loved 1950s color red, bubblegum, and very high gloss.
Big Ears has turned into our weekend, a time for us to melt in the fabric of collective consciousness, to fit into the pretty showing of experimentations, mutated by the creative purveyors at A/C Entertainment.
I will dance with the silhouette eye in the obscure, always. Even as I traverse the mundane of this box I sit next to and have to push with a rolling eye. What will the edges of the sober breathe give to the madness? Can you, the staple being of your own existence set aside a propagandized life for the sake of living? The face bright, a mild sense of insanity compels you beyond this version, this vision of lost and the flowering gestures of your present time.
Every human being on Earth will owe his or her existence to Adolf Hitler. World War II resulted in the deaths of over 50 million people. What became of all the offspring those millions would have produced? After a few generations, we may be talking about quite a few people here, and some of them could be pivotal individuals in the stream of history.
We owe it to ourselves to make the press realize we’re not little pawns in a “soundtrack for your life” factory. We’re artists, and you shouldn’t get to treat the sounds like ketchup for your french fries. We owe it to the music to stop making our material so widely available for free. The business of music is fake, it doesn’t get much clearer. You have to pay to play, period. The new paradigm is quite disgusting and its killing me a little. Making me wanna be a flower on an empty hill.
Lets say goodbye to our parents model of white collar ethics, overseas junk, and work too much syndrome, and allow us, the youth who are the future, get what we want. A place we can all make it, smoke it, love it, and chill a bit more.
I can be a modern hustler, but mostly Im fending off these molds of irrelevance by creating sounds in the comforts of solitude, and a loving community. You take a step back, let a beat play for a second, and the whole world changes in front of you as your twitter feed updates. Who’s in, who’s out, whats the new new, and what’s Kanye saying now? Its all a sham coasting in the supernovas of your poor wifi connection. The cell phone is the new cubical, and we’re all slaves now. But there’s hope…