Gems IN tHE MeGA ROuGH Vol XVXVXVXVI – SHow ME LOVE
WHo are you? What are you? A regurgitation of the social media bombardment? You grow a beard and find comfort in the millions of others doing the same, growing the same beard? Seeking your individual niche in this maelstrom by adhering to HOW TO LOOK AND BEHAVE conjured by…nobody you know let alone love and respect. It appalls me to find so many men looking exactly the same, lame, adhering to a prescribed model of How To Be…they seem aggressive mong, and were I King I would end them all…Robespiere style.
Really, WHO ARE YOU? A series of well rehearsed reactions which meet the needs of others? Or have you yet managed to emerge from the cocoon, bypassed the brain washing, and become YOURSELF?
We have this life. Why spend it drenched with pretense? What are you waiting and working and deceiving for? Why are so many people lying, broadcasting on social media an anaemic reaction to mass bombardment of manufactured slavery to a God which maims and slaughters, which destroys country after country, kill kill kill…but you see solely, blinkered, the MSM mantra of SUPPORT YOUR OVERSEERS…Look at the Obama supporters. Many of whom my heart beats for. Yet they are responding to clearly manipulated propanganda…like lemmings. They follow the Punch and Judy show and believe it, clap on demand, wave their fists on demand, cling to manufactured morality on demand. Still, I find solace in the personal suggestion that if/when WWIII comes, they will find me, as I find them…comrades…yet I may be organising their move to Russia. Smash our way through FRance and whatever else lies in our path…gain an audience with Vlad. Putin or Surkov….explain our chorus, join the ranks. Fight what we once assumed were ‘our own’.
I turn to old skool hippety-hop because it is the most honest realm I have come across, where artists are more focused on being artists, than playing to the crowd…It is those bravest of souls who bare themselves raw and wild, absent of ANY interest in the audience, who inspire me. I cringe when I listen to wannabe artists painting themselves in response, in appreciation of, an audience….they are not producing ART. They are buying into a system, ‘attacking’ the same crowd they all too often profess to despise, yet are given their scripts by…
What makes KRS ONE special to me? He means every word he bounces upon the gorgeous Premier beats…HE MEANS EVERYTHING HE SAYS. Do you? And does it mean anything to you to be honest as the forest? Or do you find value in people pretending, nodding in appreciation of you pretending? Experience some glorious honesty, brilliant bearing of the femurs…THS IS ART>
MUSIC WHICH MEANS SOMETHING..
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