Since stepping back from the cesspool of hip hop web publishing, though it did mean losing track of a handful of really awesome bloggers, my love of hip hop has returned with a vengeance. And while I lost some interesting commenters, I've gained a great deal of psychic freedom from the riff raff who attack every manifestation of culture that doesn't follow their anal retentive guidelines.
I'm especially digging the fact that so many of the voices now coming to the forefront have mostly taken guns out of the guns/drugs/sex triumvirate. I'm so sick of p*ssy ass b*tches and their guns. Cause if a gun is what made you a man, then you're still not a man, homey.
And if your prison-oriented take on gender and sexuality is disturbed by gentler young men wearing scarves, you're the one that's dead inside.
Oh, and by the way, rap necromancers ain't bringing nothin' back.
Stop digging in the graveyard and go plant a new garden.
