Krs One feels like my father. Fuck you, I’ve been listening to him since I was ten. The tones of his voice, his speech patterns, his laugh, his buggy eyes, his energy, his PHIL OS AH PHY; all of him just feels so familiar and familial.

Krs One feels like my father. Fuck you, I’ve been listening to him since I was ten. The tones of his voice, his speech patterns, his laugh, his buggy eyes, his energy, his PHIL OS AH PHY; all of him just feels so familiar and familial.

When you see him perform live, vouch for me, you get the feeling that he’s coming from a place of higher authority. What he does on stage is so effortless, so inspired; he’s not like anyone else I’ve ever seen.

By now you’ve all seen The Obama Deception – The new Loose Change for Obama’s American Era. When I see KRS One speak in this video I get the chills; that’s the man. It’s all there – the brilliance in his Burger King analogy – the rolling, lumbering, unstoppable momentum of his passion.

KRS first broke my heart in 2001 – though I escaped from Tower One with plenty of time to spare, in the months that followed I had an inexcusably low tolerance for people fucking with 9/11. A lot of my behavior was embarrassing, including my all-out support for Bush’s invasion of Iraq, which I know I need to own up to at some point. Regardless of my idiocy, KRS One was very outspoken about cheering 9/11, and I just wasn’t having it.

I wasn’t able to listen to his music for quite some time.

I’ve since returned to listening to him – probably something to do with the end of the world. I’ve looked past his intense devotion to Christianity – a trait that’s very difficult for me to overlook in ANY family member. I’ve looked past the negativity he allegedly pressed upon his son regarding the kid’s being a homosexual – and I’ve tried not to let myself speculate whether this could have been part of the kid’s decision to commit suicide. I’ve looked past all his 9-11 shit, and I’m gonna look past this new shit too.

But guys, come close cause it’s tough for me to say. Loose Change was bullshit, and The Obama Deception is too.

Presenting evidence is just too boring: Instead, the most compelling way to illustrate what’s really going on is with the following video. It’s called 9/11 Debate: Loose Change vs. Popular Mechanics. It shows the angry, melodramatic kids behind Loose Change going up against the calm, adult scientists of Popular Mechanics, who disprove each one of the Loose Changers’ amateur conspiracy theory claims. They do so in a determined and focussed fashion, and stay calm when the Loose Change kids get real angry real fast. The kids act arrogantly and obnoxiously- calling the grown-ups names, snickering rudely at their arguments, and generally acting like little spoiled brats.

This is what happens when conspiracy meets science.

And now here comes The Obama Deception – I appreciate that so many of you sent this to me, but listen – you have to know it’s just another chapter in conspiracy fiction. None of this stuff is real.

Look carefully past the superficial genius of KRS’ Burger King analogy: look deeper and you’ll see that it actually doesn’t make any sense. See, in real life there IS no franchise owner: There’s no single mastermind of any global conspiracy. There are just patterns that take place because of human behavior and the laws of economics and sociology – if you believe in evolution, think of it that way because it’s the same exact thing: Design without a designer.

Believing in an evil conspiracy mastermind is like believing in creationism.

I love KRS, and I want him to be right about everything he says, but he’s not. I don’t want to guess at why KRS believes this stuff, but then, I don’t want to guess at why he believes in an invisible monster called Jesus who hates people who were born homosexual.

Believing that there’s a mysterious group of smoking men creating this conspiracy is just an easy way of avoiding responsibility – and those are some of the things that KRS does nail. Fuck it, those are some of the things he taught me: the fact that we need to take responsibility. The black community needs to take responsibility for fathers leaving their kids and letting them end up in jail. The white community needs to take responsibility for rolling loaded dice with the stock market and destroying our economy. It’s our responsibility to change – and not by fantasizing about identifying and overthrowing some invisible evil mastermind.

This wasn’t done to us by some vengeful Big Brother; it was just done by us.

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Blognigger,

Alright, here’s my sob story. I’m a forty-one year old dad that lives in Park Slope. I’ve got the two greatest kids in the world and my wife is my best friend. But let me get right to it: It’s become clear to me over the last ten years that I am gay. Not bi-sexual, gay.


Astute Reader Franz the Fake writes:

Blognigger,

Alright, here’s my sob story. I’m a forty-one year old dad that lives in Park Slope. I’ve got the two greatest kids in the world and my wife is my best friend. But let me get right to it: It’s become clear to me over the last ten years that I am gay. Not bi-sexual, gay. Of course I used to think that I was bi-sexual and even got married under that self-perception, though without admitting what i then felt were just “homosexual tendencies” to my wife.

I’ve always known that I was at least partially attracted to men as I’ve been having sexual thoughts about men for my entire life . For as long as I can remember. As the years have gone on though, I see more and more that I’m living a lie, and at forty one (you might be too young to understand this but I’m taking my chances with you since you seem to have wisdom beyond your years on so many other topics) at forty one, I’m starting to realize that despite my overwhelming desire to provide for the ones I love, the idea of living a lie might not be something I can ultimately life with.. The idea that another 10 years will pass, and then another 10, and I’ll look at the mirror every morning and think that while it’s been filled with love and meaning – it won’t have been ME that’s been living this life.

Does that make any sense to you?

I would never want my children to end up in a position like this. Where they feel their entire life is an act and a lie – and I know that the truth will hurt them and tear up my family, but how can I lead them by example while living a lie?

If this is making any sense, I’d appreciate any of the unique wisdom i’ve come to expect from you blognigger. Go ahead and print any and all of this if it serves your purposes. I’ve changed all the telling details already and my email address is a one-off, so go ahead and do whatever you like.

Thanks for listening…

Franz the Fake

Hiya Franz,

Blognigger

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Shoulda seen the look on your Williamsburg faces.

Anyways is Plennyways, Lemme ask you this: How you gonna fire Jim Belushi from “According to Jim??” Believe me, Street Carnage only wishes they could fire me. Now back to bidnes; BAAAAAM!!
Whassup niggaz and ho’s – sidewinder here. BAAAAAM!!

Shoulda seen the look on your Williamsburg faces.

Anyways is Plennyways, Lemme ask you this: How you gonna fire Jim Belushi from “According to Jim??” Believe me, Street Carnage only wishes they could fire me. Now back to bidnes; BAAAAAM!!

Astute StreetCarnage reader Anastasia writes:

Yeah, self-righteous political rants by the edgily-named blognigger are so much better than photos of supermodels in bondage shot by Terry Richardson. What?

Well listen: she’s right about the first part. No matter how much you enjoy the writing of some bloggummer, you’re going to have a tough time convincing me that a bunch of writing is more entertaining than tits. And bondageTits? Cmon. Stop kissin my dick or you’ll be required to submit your gayscale scores as part of my comment captchas.

That second part though…jesus. The second part of Anastasia’s comment just rapes my rage valve. It’s essay-worthy:

“…shot by Terry Richardson.”

Ohhhh, these four little words just get my clit into a kykewrench.

I’ve never been able to tolerate this sentiment – it’s like a pretension and shit sandwich on a chalkboard: The idea that it matters one iota who TAKES a photograph of a supermodel’s tits (as long as they meet a certain standard of technical competence that is roughly equivalent to what it takes to operate a gmail account) is just beyond offensive. This abortion of artistic justice cannot stand- it is therefore my duty to explain why… PHOTOGRAPHY IS FOR JERKOFFS.

Now: The modern practice of Photography belongs to a genre of psuedo-art that I refer to as “Auto-Pilot Jizzcock.”

Other prominent pseudo-arts in the Auto-Pilot Jizzcock genre include: DJ-ing and Sampling.

1) DJ-ing - Oh Christ the ATTITUDE from these Lawn-Gisland mulletted fucks – just for playing a bunch of CDs at a party! Take DJ AM for example: (Too soon?) Now, I don’t think he should have gotten into a plane crash or anything – I’m TERRIFIED of planes and he’s the fucking man for surviving that shit with money and stop drop and roll, and he’s also the man for taking advantage of stupid people and society to the point where he can fuck Nicole Ritchie and make tons of money just for playing CDs. Jesus Christ though — the attitude!! The little jewish bastid has to PUSH A FUCKING BUTTON and then music by other people comes out of a stereo! At press time, DJs can be 90% replaced by an iPod playlist, and hopefully in the near future as more advanced technologies become affordable, all DJs will starve. (p.s. Don’t you fags dare bend my words to make it sound like I’m dissing musical geniuses like the Invisibl
Skratch Piklz)

2) Sampling - This pseudo-art makes shooting heroin and doing pushups look like composing The Rite of Spring. To make matters worse, sampling has the unique value-add of being able to ruin the original genius of the source material. It’s like music AIDS that songs can randomly catch after you know and love them.

Here are the top three worst sampling offenses of all time:

-Vanilla Ice stealing Bowie
-Puff Daddy or some other useless chapstick-wearing black person stealing Kashmir
-Kid Rock stealing Skynyrd and Zevon and putting them together to creating this frankenstein piece of shit which is literally the worst song I’ve ever heard including my mom’s moans as she was fucking my uncle with me in her womb.

Now to photography.

There’s a part of photography that I DO think is impressive:

a) Ansel Adams going to the north fucking pole and shit? Props. That shit is HARD. It’s cold and there are fucking BEARS and no food. Creds.

b) Niggas going into war zones and shit and taking shit like this and this without throwing up or getting killed? PROPS.

Now that that’s outta the way, let’s take a look at the other 99.99999% of photographers who take pictures like the following and have little girls like Anastasia rubbing their legs together like crickets over it:

You know what fucking genius photogapher took all this bullshit? No, not fucking Terry Bozzio or whoever photographed that other skinny Auchwitz bitch you fags were all beating off to; no. It was Terry Schivo, olava sholom: She took the photos 3 days before the feds put the bitch out to pasture.

Here’s how to be a photographer: If you follow these steps, you CANNOT fail at getting an art show at a shitty gallery in the city somewhere, and unless you have terrible breath you WILL get laid. If you can’t follow these steps, you will be a BAD PHOTOGRAPHER which is like being bad at using a microwave oven and you should then literally go play penuckle with my grandfather at The Home. You will be in great company, as he too is a BAD MICROWAVER.

INSTRUCTIONS:

1) Make sure you have a LOT OF FUCKING NATURAL LIGHT.

2) Make sure the natural light SOURCE is behind you

3) Make sure the flash on your camera is OFF. If you need a FLASH, it means you don’t have enough NATURAL LIGHT. (step 1)

4) Look through the viewfinder: Make sure that everything in your shot is symmetrical. If a tiny bit of it isn’t, like a bird or a queer walking down the street, that’s OK because it makes the photo “cool.” Go watch every Stanley Kubrick movie ever made if you don’t understand this. (Study Alex’s fake eyelash as the archetypal stylistic symmetry violator)

5) Take pictures of everyday shit from stupid angles but make sure it’s all SYMMETRICAL and that it isn’t MOVING.

6) Make sure YOU don’t move or have your fat black fingers in front of the lens when you push the button. (priceless tip: push the button down halfway, wait for a clicky sound, and then push it all the way in – this is the BIG photography secret that professionals don’t want you to know.)

7) Take TONS of photos of the same thing and then only use the good ones where the bird or the queer wasn’t blinking.

You’re done. You’re a fucking photographer. See how easy that is? That’s because it’s for JERKOFFS.

Here’s some evidence that what I’m saying is true: Ask yourself this: Why was every picture taken on 9-11 (all taken by totally random shmoes) better than any other photograph you’ve ever seen? It’s because photography is Auto-Pilot Jizzcock. If you are taking pictures of something that’s FUCKING INCREDIBLE, your photograph will then be better than the best picture that the best photographer can take of a piece of dogshit.

For example: Imagine you had a real picture of GOD or a UFO or Barak Obama fucking Osama Bin Laden in his anteater ass? If you just happened to be lucky enough to see one of those things and have a camera with you, you would instantly be known as the best photographer of all time.

You could never in a million years say the same thing about a real art: Let’s say you saw GOD or a UFO and then WROTE about it. Your writing would still suck shit and be way worse than James Joyce or Jim Goad’s killer works. That’s because writing is a real art that you can’t just push a button and have a machine do for you.
To recap: VAN GOGH’s oil painting of dogshit is better than your oil painting of GOD!!! The same is not true of photographs.

Okay, one last thing. In case you do decide to take photographs, the least you can do is to try to be truly creative and utilitarian, and I can help. Here is my current project which I need someone with bigger balls than me to help with:

My new jam is taking pictures of white girls’ hands on the subway while they hold onto the metal train poles. Here’s why: As you might know, I’m mad into handjobs from white chicks. So, my plan is to take these pictures and then photoshop dicks into their hands instead of the poles so that it looks like real girls giving handjobs on the train. Even typing that much is giving me a semi-lobber.

Here’s what I have so far:

Photoshopping is a bit hard but I plan to download some clip art called the “handcock megapack,” which is a series of dicks with little hand-and-knuckle shapes cut out as a transparencies – it’s supposedly used for exactly this purpose.

Here’s my problem: I have to use my shitty little phone cam to take these subway flix cause I’m too scared of getting busted to use a real camera. If you are a real photographer you should be ballsy enough to take these pictures yourself AND know how to photoshop dicks in for me. I prefer ones with nailpolish and manicures the most (hands not the dicks) so if you can help me out with any part of this, you know where to find me.

Take care,
Blognigger.

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