AMALGAMONSTER

pic

2010-11-03T16:06:00.001-07:00

tron bike

2010-10-29T11:21:00.000-07:00

Carina Round, Backseat

2010-03-30T11:26:00.000-07:00

Louis Slaughter, Representative, D- New York

2010-02-26T14:50:00.001-08:00

Before Ms. Slaughter spoke, representatives and senators, mainly men, bickered and bickered. She laid the smackdown and the room sobered up.

Unity

2010-01-27T14:55:00.000-08:00

Let's just say I appreciate cultural evolution. They talk a little in the beginning, introduction to the battle, etc. About 2:05 minutes into the video, the fun starts.

I Heart Guts

2009-11-10T10:27:00.000-08:00

Party People! Ever wondered why human biology class was so boring? Every say to yourself, "gosh, I wish they could make neat-o illustrations of the organs and speak in normal human speak when describing them. I'd be so much more interested!" Well, you're unusually detailed wish has been answered with the I Heart Guts blog. Click here to see what they're all about. DON'T FORGET TO CLICK ON AN ORGAN TO SEE WHAT IT DOES!Below is just a sample of their funniness--The Menstrual Cycle!

From: A Man Hides Food From His Family

2009-11-04T11:59:00.000-08:00

One day, something said to him, "Please give me a root."
It turned out to be a person who had only one arm.
The man looked at this person,and said, "What's happened to this person, a person with only one arm who goes about saying that he should be given a root? What kind of person is this? He has only one side!"
The thing said, "You too could come to have only one side! Just give me some roots. I am unable to dig for roots."
This fellow refused. He said, "Go on! I don't have time for that!"
He said, "Come and sit by me. You'll see better that I have no arm."
The man approached, and when he came near to this creature: " Oh, this person does resemble a human being, except that he had only one arm, there's only one eye! One leg! And the thing doesn't move from this place! He has only one finger on his hand, one finger with a long nail!"
The man squatted then and dug for roots. And this ting suddenly moved its nail, and ripped off the man's rectum, throwing it over there.
It threw the man's rectum over there.

Zenani, Nongenile Masithathu. "A Man Hides Food From His Family." Woman Writing Africa, The Southern Region. Ed. MJ Daymond, Dorothy Driver, Sheila Meintjes, Leloba Molema, Chiedza Musengezi, Margie Orford, and Nobantu Rasebotsa. New York: The Femenist Press at the City University of New York, 2003. 329. Print.

How older were you in 1958?

2009-10-26T11:58:00.000-07:00

I think if you weren't born on the otherwise you'd still enjoy this video of San Francisco in 1958, when smoking cigarettes looked way cooler than it does now. Jeff Altman, a film colorist based in Chicago, edited this piece of old film he inherited from his grandparents--filmed on 16mm Kodachrome.

San Francisco 1958 from Jeff Altman on Vimeo.

Click here for Jeff's web page.

Pop-Up Kinkaku-ji Temple. . . Out of Legos!

2009-10-21T11:40:00.000-07:00

Filipino's with mad skills.

2009-09-13T23:08:00.000-07:00

Lyraflip V Fredo

RichForAReason v. Lyraflip

2009-09-13T22:00:00.000-07:00

The Saurus v. Dumbfoundead pt. 2

2009-09-13T00:29:00.000-07:00

Doomsday, for real

2009-08-19T09:35:00.000-07:00

2009-08-07T09:38:00.000-07:00

Check out the hair. . .

The Sandwich Maker

Look at that guy to the right of Goofy. He looks ridiculous. Click on the picture to enlarge. Hahaha.

Nocando vs. Madness

2009-07-30T12:24:00.000-07:00

Raw battle. . .

and then. . .

The greatest comeback. . .

2009-07-23T11:22:00.000-07:00

Treevenge

2009-07-15T17:20:00.001-07:00

Click Here for the official Treevenge Website.

Good Lord

2009-07-14T22:32:00.001-07:00

San Francisco Legends: John Coppola

2009-07-10T16:29:00.000-07:00

This is my uncle, John Coppola, with Sex Mob at Amoeba SF. John Coppola has legend status in the music scene. He's played with folks from Frank Sinatra to Sly and the Brothers Stone. He even has a trumpet named after him. Click here to see it. There's also a clip of his solo in Torna A Sorrento (Come Back To Sorrento) at the bottom of that page. You'd bring quality to your life if you gave it a listen.

Sweet Tranquilizer Dart

2009-07-10T11:18:00.001-07:00

Click here to see more Venture Brothers.

Fireworks By PES

2009-07-02T15:17:00.000-07:00

The Puzzle

2009-06-22T12:48:00.001-07:00

The Puzzle - Brother Ali

Lyrics to The Puzzle :
Who's to blame for the state I'm in
I play my cards but somehow I can't win

[Verse 1:]
Listen when life leaves you beaten up
Don't lay around in it, hurry pick them pieces up
Cling closely to the people you love
They're your umbrella when the weather tough
See to it that your head is up
If not just remember this
Just never let your chest and your chin touch in public
Those that stand against us would love this
Ah fuck them, something's bugging em'
They feel inadequate or something and that's been dug in em'
So deep they can't stand someone else making shit
Player hatred, same concept created Satan
Pay em no never mind let em play their part
They're here to make us prove we are what we say we are
We say we are the hard hearted
Been discarded from everything we've ever been part of
They just robbed it
Unguarded, tormented and tortured
And got nothing but scars and grey hairs to show for it
Fuck that, every stone that's ever been cast or blow that ever landed
Helped to build that man that's standing before your bitch ass
I'm back to wreak havoc, I never retired, retreated or recanted
I, don't expect you to have stood where I'm standing
Why, repsect is the only thing I'm demanding
Try, you and I could build this understanding
You can't honestly shake unless you know where my hand's been brother

[Chorus:]
This is a piece of my puzzle now
Through the years I found peace in my struggle now
If we were put here to carry a great weight
The very things we hate are here to build those muscles
This is a piece of my puzzle now
Through the years I found peace in my struggle now
(Who'se to blame for the state I'm in - Yours truly
I play my cards but somehow I can't win)

[Verse 2:]
Listen I was taught that mistakes made with great intentions
Were never sins but where life lessons begin
Now that I'm 27, single father starting over yet again
I am who I have to forgive
Lost my mamma to cancer, closed a 10 year chapter shortly after
Can't deny that was some shit
Alone in this life would've been at my throat with a knife chop
Were it not for my passion to live
Follow my soul, not that I don't know the penalty
But that's the legacy that I pass to my kids
Heard of shining in the heat of the moment
And won my freedom the moment I realised that's what this...

[Chorus]

[Bridge: x2]
I can't believe my eyes Lord
I don't know what I'm seeing
I done watched them smash into little pieces everything I've been building
I can't believe my ears Lord
I don't know what I'm hearing
I heard they smash into little pieces everything I've been building

Who'se to blame for the state I'm in
I play my cards but somehow I can't win

Deadline

2009-06-18T10:05:00.000-07:00

Bruce Lee v. Iron Man

2009-06-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

Iron Man vs Bruce Lee from Patrick Boivin on Vimeo.

The Sacking of Coruscant

2009-06-02T08:23:00.001-07:00

Video Game - E3 2009 - Video Game Trailers

Sorry I'm Late

2009-05-31T14:54:00.000-07:00

Credits (the click here's):

Sorry I'm Late]
Tomas Mankovsky
Making of the Film

Honesty Again and Again

2009-04-29T09:19:00.001-07:00

Architectural Photography

2009-04-22T13:14:00.000-07:00

Open publication - Free publishing - More andy marshall

Free Music

2009-04-05T14:11:00.002-07:00

Download here!

Where The Wild Things Are, October 16, 2009

2009-03-26T15:45:00.000-07:00

The website

It must be the end of the world because this is the monolith.

Directed by Spike Jonz
Screenplay by Spike Jonz and Dave Eggars

Emotional State 3A.

2009-03-25T16:17:00.000-07:00

BY STEPHEN DAU
- - - -

It has recently been brought to our attention that some of you are stuck in emotional state 3A, Consumed by Fear. Though we have made a number of announcements recently about the need for an emotional-state change, and had hoped that this would be a relatively smooth and uniform process, we understand that 3A is a particularly robust state and that many of you may need further guidance on how to proceed.

You might remember that 3A was invoked, as a purely temporary response, after the Event of Great Magnitude. At the time, it was thought that 3A would be in effect for no longer than a short period, and that it would be at most a medium-term measure. We never intended for 3A to be a long-term solution. That said, it has become obvious that some of you have been unable to extricate yourselves from state 3A, despite our continued suggestions that you do so, and, thus, are attempting to function in an emotional state that does not efficiently deal with our current reality.

It has been found that an incremental approach may prove fruitful. Perhaps it would be helpful at this time for us to make some specific suggestions of alternative states you may want to explore, as a way of gradually distancing yourself from 3A. Our studies indicate that good first steps might be 5E, Generally Fearful; 10B, Apprehensive; or 11C, Jittery. (Check your manuals for appropriate definitions.) Again, these would only be stopgap measures, methods for moving slowly away from 3A and toward one of the currently recommended emotional states, such as 75D, Cautiously Guarded; 78A, Vaguely Alert; or even 105M, Mildly Optimistic.

Some of you may be tempted to try to go cold turkey, as it were, and plunge directly from emotional state 3A into one of the recommended states in the 70s or 80s. Though such efforts are not unheard of, we would emphasize that nearly all the known successful attempts have been conducted in laboratory settings, and that the procedure is rarely successful in real-world situations. That said, if you remain determined, we have made available a number of pamphlets outlining the generally accepted research in this area.

Please be aware that we are by no means recommending that you try to go anywhere near emotional state 800A, Calmly Focused; 805B, Gently Aware; or any of their associated states. As you probably know, these are advanced states that require a great deal of practice, and, depending on your region, there may be licensing requirements. These states should only be attempted by trained professionals operating in controlled conditions.

This brings us to the subject of unauthorized emotional states. As you may know, we have received multiple reports of unauthorized emotional states, many of them emanating from Sector 2 (not that we are pointing any fingers!), and we find ourselves Troubled (53B). Therefore, this may be a good opportunity to review some of the basic tenets of the Emotional State Paradigm, as agreed to at the 11th General Council, many of which relate directly to the aforementioned occurrences.

Emotional state 485G, Wild Abandon, is officially reserved for weddings and public holidays, with significant leeway given for personal triumphs. The same goes for 430A, Effusive Joy; 430B, Elation; and 437C, Overwhelming Glee. (Again, see your manuals for definitions.) Although the decision to officially sanction these emotional states was regarded by some at the time as controversial, it was seen as a necessary precaution in the wake of the High-Level Hoax (remember how that turned out?) and, though carefully regulated, these states are now standard.

Given the large number of reports of recent instances of officially controlled emotional states, we would like to recommend some viable options for those of you wishing to express a more vibrant point of view. For those of you tempted to exhibit 485G, Wild Abandon, may we suggest 375B, Moderate Giddiness? This would provide the necessary irreverence of 485G but without the inherent danger. Another viable alternative might be 493E, General Excitability, which provides a similar adrenal rush but in more controllable doses. We have also seen success with 487C, Wholehearted Enthusiasm. Whatever method of substitution you choose to pursue, the main thing to keep in mind is that moderation is the key.

We are living in tumultuous times, which have obviously proved challenging, both for those of you striving to return from previously used emotional states that are no longer desirable and for those tempted into unauthorized states as a result of the recent, broadly perceived changes. Our goal is to be encouraging, not prescriptive, and punitive only in the face of the most egregious violations. We draw your attention to the large number of publicly available resources existent to help you through this period, and, as always, we remain humbly at your service.

As seen at McSweeney's

Letters From an Earth Ball to, or Concerning, Sean Hannity

2009-03-23T11:36:00.000-07:00

By Ben Greenman
- - - -

ROUND
AND A BOUT:
AN EARTH BALL
GETS INTO IT WITH
HANNITY, LIMBAUGH,
AND STEELE.

- - - -

Hello. I am an Earth Ball, a giant inflatable ball also known as a cage ball. I live in the suburbs of Baltimore, Maryland, in the boys' locker room of a sizable public junior high school.

I have been away for a while, hibernating. There are three reasons for that. I will now list them, one, two, three. Please pardon me if I am too dependent upon lists and counting. I have recently awoken from my slumber and feel more foggy than clear.

The first reason for my hibernation is that Earth Balls are extremely sensitive to changes in the national mood, which fluctuates drastically each time Americans consider human candidates for president. To be fair, they do not even have to be human: the mood fluctuated plenty when Al Gore was running. Ha ha: that is just a little joke because Al Gore is stiff like a board or a baseball bat. (In fact, he is stiff exactly like a baseball bat. I know several, and everything they do seems staged.) In the weeks leading up to this last election, my entire surface was furrowed with tension. When Barack Obama became president, I found that I was relieved but exhausted and could not sleep. So I turned to the usual remedy, which involves counting tennis balls: one, two, three, and so on until sleep. In point of fact, it was just one tennis ball, an elderly but sprightly ball named Max Masterson, who obligingly bounced up and down until I dozed off. "This will be the best rest yet," he said as he hopped me to sleep. "And when you wake up it will be the best day!" I have had closer friends than Max Masterson—Sally, who was a vending machine; Amelia and Professor Lamarque, who were medicine balls; Fregosi, a baseball—but I have never met anyone who was as tirelessly devoted to the idea of lifting my spirits. Coach Parker says that a true optimist is a man who can look in a toilet bowl and see only corn. This perfectly describes Max Masterson. His buoyant nature is all the more amazing considering that he lost his wife, Minnie, not too long ago. She was lounging near the tennis courts, sunbathing, and a dog trotted off with her. Gone forever. Tragic. But Max doesn't see it that way. "She's on vacation," he said. "A wonderful vacation! I'm sure she's having the time of her life! I will be thrilled to see her when she returns!"

This idea of vacation is probably intended to cheer me up, but it does the opposite, because of Coach Parker. He is my closest human friend. He was here when I was brought to Baltimore and had been here ever since. He is not here now, and this is the second reason for my hibernation. After the election, Coach Parker decided to take a four-week vacation to Australia. "America is OK for now," he said. "I'm going to see the rest of the world." At the same time, Coach Ortega took a month off to care for her sister in New Mexico. Coach Ortega is Coach Parker's on-and-off girlfriend, sometimes even in times when he has another girlfriend or she has another boyfriend. I am pretty sure that he is not in Australia and that she is not in New Mexico but that the two of them are elsewhere, the same elsewhere, putting first her back and then his back against the mattress of a hotel bed. I am basing this belief partly on my interpretation of his tone before he left. He spoke of everything Australian as if the words had quotes around them. "Maybe I will see some 'kangaroos,' mate," he'd say, and laugh, or "I will be sure to look out for 'boomerangs' while I'm Down Under." I do not think he really meant kangaroos or boomerangs, but he may have meant Down Under.

The third reason for my hibernation is that I am not as needed as I once was. When Coach Parker went to "Australia," his responsibilities were assumed by Coach Arthur, who has been with us for three weeks now. One, two, three. Coach Arthur is either a man named Arthur or a man whose last name is Arthur. I'm not sure. He is a harder kind of man than Coach Parker—he is always telling the students that there are no trophies for effort, only for winning—and his ideas about bad-weather indoor recess time do not involve Earth Balls. It snowed last week, five inches, and I wasn't moved from the corner. I wasn't even touched! I sensed this from within my hibernation and then woke with a strong sense that I had been wasted in some essential way. My surface felt alien to me; I had to roll a bit back and forth along the floor just to remind myself of my own existence. Max Masterson saw me rolling and bounded over. "So good to have you back," he said. "You look great and the weather is great, too! Your long sleep really agreed with you!" Coach Arthur came and picked up Max Masterson and put him back in the tennis-ball bin. Coach Arthur is not an optimist, especially not when it comes to things that are similar to him. Here is one example: he is as bald as I am but scowls whenever he looks my way. Here is a second example: he is stupid but is always disparaging other people for being stupid. Here is a third example: his skin is as dark as President Obama's, but he believes that President Obama is undermining the basic principles upon which the nation was founded. This is also the view of the radio and television host Sean Hannity, whom Coach Arthur likes despite their similarity.

I feel that the ground has shifted beneath me in recent weeks—from Coach Parker to Coach Arthur, from Fregosi to Max Masterson. The radio and television host Sean Hannity must feel this way as well. Just a few months ago, he had a president who agreed with him on most things, and he was considered a voice of the establishment. Then the nation rejected his way of thinking, somewhat decisively. Now he claims to be leading the conservative movement in exile, and he talks frequently about being forced off the airwaves by Democrats. He sounds paranoid sometimes, depressed other times. For a little while after the election, Coach Parker and I would listen to his radio show, and Coach Parker would say, "I'm proud of him for being ready to accept the Obama administration." But the words "proud" and "ready" and "accept" hung there in the air like they were in quotes. Pretty quickly, Sean Hannity went from saying that he hoped Barack Obama succeeded, for the good of the country, to blaming Barack Obama and his brand-new administration for the economic ills of the nation. Coach Arthur endorses this theory. He is always pounding the desk and saying "Yes!" and "Yeah!" Once, he even called in to the show to agree with Sean Hannity that the stock market is "rejecting" the "demented" Obama spending plan that will "cripple" our children and grandchildren. I am not putting these words in quotes to make them ironic. I am putting them in quotes to protect myself from them.

Yesterday, Coach Arthur turned on the television. I thought Sean Hannity would come onscreen. Instead, there was a ball. Foggy from hibernation, I concentrated, and saw that it was not a ball but, rather, a man shaped like a ball. Underneath this man, it said "Rush Limbaugh." He disappeared from the screen and a man with skin darker than President Obama's and Coach Arthur's came on the screen. It was Michael Steele, whom I recognized—he had been a guest on Sean Hannity's television show several times before he became the head of the Republican National Committee. The television showed Rush Limbaugh again and then Michael Steele again. Then it showed both men a third time. One, two, three. Evidently, Rush Limbaugh had given a speech where he referred to himself as the leader of the Republican Party. During an interview on CNN, Michael Steele had argued that he, not Rush Limbaugh, was the leader of the party, and added that Rush Limbaugh's show was "incendiary," a word I didn't know, and "ugly," a word I did know. Rush Limbaugh retaliated by calling Michael Steele "gutless." Being angry, or pretending to be, seemed to give Rush Limbaugh tremendous energy. Coach Parker used to say that this was the sign of a bad person. "A good person is tired out by anger, except the most righteous kind," he said. I don't think any words were in quotes. After reviewing Rush Limbaugh's angry remarks about Michael Steele's angry remarks, the television speculated whether or not this would become a major rift in the Republican Party.

Coach Arthur pounded the desk, but he didn't say "Yes!" or "Yeah!" He said, "They're going to make that boy bow down." I didn't know what he meant. Michael Steele was not a boy.

I was sure that Sean Hannity would talk about the situation the next day, and I was interested to see whom he would side with: Michael Steele, whom he has always treated like a friend, or Rush Limbaugh, whom he acknowledges as a professional inspiration. "Maybe he will say he likes them both," Max Masterson said. "You can like everyone! It's the great thing about life! Tomorrow will be the brightest day!" He sees only corn. After criticizing Barack Obama for being a disconnected elitist who didn't care about the stock market, Sean Hannity turned to the argument between Michael Steele and Rush Limbaugh. There was no argument anymore, he said, since Michael Steele had called Rush Limbaugh the previous evening to apologize for speaking out of turn. Soon after that, Michael Steele came on Sean Hannity's show and said a number of nice things about Rush Limbaugh as a leader and a committed conservative. Michael Steele seemed to believe not a single word of what Michael Steele had said just a few days earlier. Maybe all those earlier words had been in quotes. Coach Arthur pounded the desk and said, "Yeah!"

Even though I have just finished hibernating, this series of events has exhausted me. I feel lonely without Coach Parker. I need someone to help me understand why a radio host and propagandist seemed to dominate the head of a national political party in hand-to-hand combat, and Max Masterson is not up to the job. "There are so many reasons to be happy," he said. "Sunlight! Love! Flowers! Incendiary!" I guess he doesn't know what it means, either. And I know he is trying to cheer me up, but there are no trophies for effort. "I love the radio!" he said. "I love the voices on it! Sean Hannity sounds wonderful, don't you think?" It occurred to me, not for the first time, that maybe his wife leapt into the mouth of the dog intentionally. Coach Parker is due back in four days. I'm sure he's having the time of his life! But what if he doesn't come back? What if I am alone forever with Coach Arthur and Max Masterson? Max Masterson is bouncing now, but I am too tired to sleep. Maybe I am still hibernating. Maybe this is all a dream. I'm going to count him backward and see if I wake up. Three, two, one.

Yours,
Earth Ball

Songs fors yous

2009-03-14T20:33:00.000-07:00

It's my brother...

Mars - 1

2009-03-13T09:23:00.001-07:00

Click Here for the Mars-1 Website

Two thousand and something, Nineteen ninety something

2009-03-11T10:11:00.000-07:00

Everytime,
Mike Relm feat. Del Tha Funkee Homosapien

Make Room
The Alkaholiks

Muto

2009-02-22T13:48:00.001-08:00

The Mi Concept

2009-02-20T09:47:00.000-08:00

January 23, 2009

Mi is essentially nothing.
A transient thought.
One that was right in its moment of now.

Its origins were rooted in opposition to the psychological theory of attachment, finding identity by our attachment; abandoning the real self for an idealized one, trying to actualize this pseudo-self instead of our given human potentials.

Fuck the masses. For so long as our sense of self is a result of a collection of conditioned reactions, fears and beliefs, rather than from our true self, we will move further from our natural essence. When we stop identifying self with our collective choices and stop defending them, our essential self begins to appear. This new found individuality is true freedom. True status.

Mi, as a design collective, creates beautiful things that a specific audience may view with a shared perspective. But these objects are not you. You are the mirror and the face in it.

Mi
808 Sutter Street
San Francisco, CA. 94109
415.567.8080
www.themiconcept.com

Wild, Man. Wild.

2009-02-13T13:49:00.000-08:00

Drumroll, by P.O.S.

Drumroll - P.O.S.

How We Define Timelessness

2009-02-11T09:45:00.000-08:00

You Got Me by The Roots, feat. Erykah Badu

Watch more Yahoo! Music videos on AOL Video

The Rapist's Villanelle

2009-01-28T11:25:00.000-08:00

She spent her money with such perfect style
The clerks would gasp at each new thing she'd choose.
I couldn't help myself: I had to smile

Or burst. Her slender purse was crocodile;
Her blouse was from Bendel's, as were her shoes.
She spent her money with such perfect style!

I loved her so! She shopped--and all the while
My soul that bustling image would perfuse.
I couldn't help myself: I had to smile

At her hand-knitted sweater from the Isle
Of Skye, an apres-skis of bold chartreuse.
She spent her money with such perfect style.

Enchanted by her, mile on weary mile
I tracked my darling down the avenues.
I couldn't help myself. I had to smile

At how she never once surmised my guile.
My heart was hers--I'd nothing else to lose.
She spent her money with such perfect style
I couldn't help myself. I had to smile.

--Tom Disch

The Fight Scene in OLDBOY

2009-01-14T08:44:00.000-08:00

About the movie, Ho Dae-Su is a drunk who gets kidnapped and imprisoned for no apparent reason. His imprisonment lasts for 15 years, away from his family and the world. Suddenly, the man is released with no explanation neither about his imprisonment nor his release, he is given clean new clothes, money and a cell phone. He seeks vengeance. The plot he uncovers thereafter is a dastardly one.

Now, check out this fine cinematographic fight scene. Best one I've witnessed in a while.

Call

2009-01-08T10:49:00.000-08:00

What next to see is the response. . .

How Benevolent Voices Never Leave This World

2008-12-30T14:31:00.000-08:00

Watch more Sessions@AOL videos on AOL Video

Lyrics to Welcome to Jamrock

Welcome to Jamrock, camp where da thugs them camp at
Two pounds a weed inna van back
It inna your hand bag, your knapsack, it inna your back pack
The smell a give yah girlfriend contact
Some boy no notice, they only come around like tourist
On the beach with a few club sodas
Bedtime stories, and pose like them name Chuck Norris
And don't know the real hardcore
Cause Sandals a no 'back-to', da thugs Dem wi do whe' them got to
And won't think twice to shot you
Don't make them spot you, unless you carry guns a lot too
A bare tough thing come at you

When Trenchtown man stop, laugh and block-off traffic
Then them wheel and pop off and them start clap it
With the pin file down and it a beat rapid
Police come in a jeep and them cant stop it
Some say them a playboy, a playboy rabbit
Babble on and get dropped like a bad habit
Nobody pose tough if you don't have it
Rastafari stands alone!

[Chorus]
Welcome to Jamrock, Welcome to Jamrock
Out in the streets, they call it murder!

[Verse 2]
Welcome to Jamdom, poor people are dead at random
Political violence scandal! Ghost and phantom, the youth
Dem get blind by stardom
The Kings Of All Kings will call
Old man to Pickney, so wave unno hand if you with me
To see them suffer and ration sickens me
Them suit no fit me, to win election them trick we
Them don't do no thing at all

Come on let's face it, a ghetto education's basic
And most of the youths them waste it
And when them waste it, that's when them petty guns replace it
Them don't stand a chance at all
And that's why a nuff little youth have up some fat matic
With the extra magazine inna them back pocket
And them live at night time inna some black jacket
All who not lock glocks, them a lock rocket
Then will fill you up with current like a short circuit
Dem a run a roadblock which part the cops block it
And from now till a morning not stop clock it
If them run outta rounds

[Chorus]
Welcome to Jamrock, East Coast, West Coast
Welcome to Jamrock, North Side, South Side
Welcome to Jamrock
Welcome to Jamrock
Out in the streets, they call it murder!!!

[Outro]
Jamaica Jamaica! Jamaica Jamaica! Now!
Jamaica Jamaica! Yo! Jamaica Jamaica!

How Control of the Mantle of Power Changes You

2008-12-30T09:26:00.001-08:00

Family Car Fight - watch more funny videos

Supreme Rap Battles

2008-12-29T09:03:00.000-08:00

Slug v. Faheem

Atmosphere - Greatest Rap Battle Ever: Slug Vs Faheem - Watch more funny videos here

Faheem is the son of another rapper, Brother Ali. They're all from a company called Rhymesayers Entertainment. Check them out. They're fresh.

David Elsewhere, The Liquid Dance Machine

2008-12-22T09:58:00.000-08:00

- Click here for more amazing videos

Honesty

2008-12-19T16:01:00.001-08:00

Revenge of the Nerds Remix Feat. Pigeon John - The most popular videos are a click away

How People Dig Into Stereotypes and Devour Them Whole

2008-12-15T11:10:00.000-08:00

Freestlye Rap Battle: Translated - The best free videos are right here

Attacked by Comanches

2008-12-14T14:27:00.000-08:00

The first of the herd began to swing past them in a pall of yellow dust, rangy slatribbed cattle with horns that grew agoggle and no two alike and small thin mules coalblack that shouldered one another and reared their malletshaped heads above the backs of the others and then more cattle and finally the first of the herders riding up the outer side and keeping the stock between themselves and the mounted company. Behind them came a herd of several hundred ponies. The sergeant looked for Candelario. He kept backing along the ranks but he could not find him. He nudged his horse through the column and moved up the far side. The lattermost of the drovers were now coming through the dust and the captain was gesturing and shouting. The ponies had begun to veer off from the herd and the drovers were beating their way toward this armed company met with on this plain. Already you could see through the dust on the ponies' hides the painted chevrons and the hands and rising suns and birds and fish of every device like the shade of old work through sizing on canvas and now too you could hear above the pounding of unshod hooves the piping of the quena, flutes made from human bones, and some among the company had begun to saw back on their mounts and some to mill in confusion when up from the offside of those ponies there rose a fabled horde of mounted lancers and archers bearing shields bedighted with bits of broken mirrorglass that cast a thousand unpieced suns against the eyes of their enemies. A legion of horribles, hundreds in number, half naked or clad in costumes attic or biblical or wardrobed out of a fevered dream with the skins of animals and silk finery and pieces of uniform still tracked with the blood of prior owners, coats of slain dragoons, frogged and braided cavalry jackets, one in a stovepipe hat and one with an umbrella and one in white stockings and a bloodstained weddingveil and some in headgear of cranefeathers or rawhide helmets that bore the horns of bull or buffalo and one in a pigeontailed coat worn backwards and otherwise naked and one in the armor of a spanish conquistador, the breastplate and pauldrons deeply dented with old blows of mace or sabre done in another country by men whose very bones were dust and many with their braids spliced up with the hair of other beasts until they trailed upon the ground and their horses' ears and tails worked with bits of brightly colored cloth and one whose horse's whole head was painted crimson red and all the horsemen's faces gaudy and grotesque with daubings like a company of mounted clowns, death hilarious, all howling in a barbarous tongue and riding down upon them like a horde from a hell more horrible yet than the brimstone land of christian reckoning, screeching and yammering and clothed in smoke like those vaporous beings in regions beyond right knowing where the eye wanders and the lip jerks and drools.

Oh my god, said the sergeant.

A rattling drove of arrows passed through the company and men tottered and dropped from their mounts. Horses were rearing and plunging and the mongol hordes swung up along their flanks and turned and rode full upon them with lances.

Blood Meridian Or the Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy

Sing, by Jim Bianco

2008-12-07T13:58:00.000-08:00

Sing - Jim Bianco

Jim Bianco's Website.

Capitalism and Breeded Indifference

2008-12-04T09:22:00.000-08:00

Queen Rania

2008-11-22T17:59:00.000-08:00

Check out Queen Rania Al Abdullah of Jordan on her youtube page.

Peace, ya'll.

The Underwater Death Star

2008-11-17T11:11:00.000-08:00

Hello,

The Underwater Death Star in Blogfish.

The Underwater Death Star in Echinoblog. With Videos!

Peace.

The commitment, the music

2008-11-09T13:40:00.000-08:00

Whose (Who's) America

2008-11-08T09:56:00.000-08:00

Only now is the child finally divested of all that he has been. His origins are become remote as is his destiny and not again in all the world's turning will there be terrains so wild and barbarous to try whether the stuff of creation may be shaped to man's will or whether his own heart is not another kind of clay.

-- Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian Or the Evening Redness in the West

November 4, 2008 Chicago IL

2008-11-05T15:10:00.000-08:00

No descriptions.
Just readiness.

DNC

2008-10-30T09:06:00.001-07:00

Inspiration of the Day

2008-10-27T15:08:00.000-07:00

Click on Picture to Enlarge. Check out Monty Oum's gallery at his Deviant Art journal.

Click on Picture to Enlarge. Check out Monty Oum's gallery at his Deviant Art journal.

Irony

2008-10-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

"I began to understand the realms between public and private, which are scattered, dispersed by urban sprawl, as incomplete sentences. A sentence communicates clear and concise opinions or ideas through the combination of words and phrases, which make paragraphs and so on. Architecture does the same where its words are elements such as doors and windows. These words are then harmoniously placed to communicate rhythmic and proportional spaces. In accordance with nature, these combinations create a context for an efficient and/or effective urban environment. Walking through suburbia, this concept is hard to understand because ideas are fragmented by slow observation, only as fast as you are walking. If you are in a vehicle, then, the context is easier to understand. People would have to travel for miles to achieve a coherent idea. Not only that, but the path is hazardous or the short cut is abruptly cut off by a cul de sac wrapped in a 10 foot high wall - where trees and a frame view of the hill use to be.

"Moments like this made me a writer. Writers like me replace nature were it once stood by anthropometric strokes and geometry of letters, connecting the paths which make epitomes urbanistically and strengthen our architectural and urbanist minds. So as I walk to the store I understand a healthy and safe travel path. Unfortunately most of these sentences laid before me did not communicate an efficient path. Rather, they say there are unsafe hazards along the street and buildings. I sometimes get confused because of the scatter words or misplaced context.

"In this case, urban sprawl taught me Ebonics."

--EonsR

Kickass Video Games

2008-10-21T13:46:00.000-07:00

Mass Effect,by Bioware

The Soundtrack of Ass Kicking

2008-10-21T09:22:00.000-07:00

The Soundtrack of Ass Kicking

Pictures

2008-10-21T09:03:00.000-07:00

The Culture Family Tree

2008-10-20T12:12:00.000-07:00

Here's the link if you can't see the video (I think they're trying to sensor me *furtive glance left and right, paranoid shift in eyes*): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2Agz_2um4c