YES: variations on a photographic theme.

1. Fucking YES, everybody. War has arrived to inform you that you and your inferior hairstyle and wack kit should step aside. This photo, those sweet potato fries at lunch, and the Quinones incident* were the 3 best things that happened to me today.

2. I only like rappers who once sold stimulants or the bodies of women. I think I’m reallll badass sometimes because of this.

But that’s only because 10-year-old Libyan kids haven’t started rhyming yet about daily life. Pink scarves, rebels, ceasefires, kevlar helmets, etc.

3. One of these things is not, in fact, like the others.


Take your rap unserious like your movie roles
Don’t smile when the Doberman Pinscher finishes bad work on your sneaker soles,

all V.I.P. material – don’t pay me to hype your lyrics

Tear you a new ass, go pay Jay-Z to write your lyrics

(Kool Keith, “Robert Perry”)


Shut your face, shut your mouth like pigeons floying south

(Kool Keith, “Get off My Elevator”).

Either way, YES. Thank you, Keith (as always).

4. Of course Reatard wore Vans and no socks. I could’ve predicted that. And of course he was fragile since he was a carbon-based life form. But yes, this picture is just nice because of the red/red motif. Settle down if you thought I was making some kind of statement about his psychological state. How pretentious.

5. All girls like the stunning Earthling named T.I. All girls – straight, gay, bi, questioning, intersex, transgender, transsexual, asexual, and ones who wish they could physically make love to the Stalag riddim bassline, like somehow find a way to express affection for it in a grown-up way and maybe agree on a “safe word” ahead of time so nobody’s comfort levels get disrespected.

I’m a girl, so I like T.I. He makes me say yep. And yes. And How long does a flight to Georgia take? And unflheihiehrwiorhw9rhf.

(From the Stripper Song of the Day, the remix of that Killer Mike one)

6. The Internet giveth wonderful presents sometimes, like the booking info for rap’s Kool-Aid Man which I intend to use to stage an elaborate prank, yes I do. And new/old Doomsy (thanks, Rafi!). And photos from the Class of ’89. God yes.

7. “We are welcoming people that appreciate street art but we hope they are not inspired to show off their work on the buildings outside,” Kito (the owner of a business near MOCA) said, “WE HOPE THEY ARE NOT INSPIRED TO SHOW OFF THEIR WORK ON THE BUILDINGS OUTSIDE.” Jeffrey Deitch added that he had that tingly feeling when he was curating the show that it would bring “unwanted and unauthorized ancillary activity from ‘some of the young taggers who are anarchic.'”

Unbridled irony running loose on the streets of Los Angeles doesn’t get a YES, but

* Your favorite awkward ladyblogger shaking the hand of THE GOD QUINONES today as she walked past the Geffen at lunch gets a yes. ZORO. YES.

Nobody back at work would understand. They are a simple and dull group of folks. So I just tucked it away inside. And when I came down from my high, I found this, from back when Lee was younger and more anarchic and insisted on showing his work on the buildings outside:

And YES, the “raw nozzle” technique does mean something totally different on Urban Dictionary.

“Let me see you. Let me see your tight wire come alive. I just want you to get up” – The Dramatics, on being young and anarchic. No drips.


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