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"New Years Eve and nothing to do
ARGH!  if i were at my dad's house, everybody and their brother would be over and it would be awesome fun.  instead i'm here at my mom's house, babysitting my brother and sister.  but no fear: they won't be out long, because they like to go to bed early.  i could probably get away and do something...oh wait, i have no friends.  since i've only been home for about the span of a week and a half since we moved to Birmingham, i only know like 5 people outside of my family.  that makes for a pretty boring time.  i'd rather not spend my break sitting around the house playing video games and watching TV, but it looks like that's the way it's going to go.  the only addition to that exciting schedule that i've had so far is going to the store or the mall--with my mom.  oh man...i really need something to do

i got nothin
i've been in a blogging drought.  God must have been withholding his blessed manna of interesting/funny stories to be blogged.  i apologize to all my faithful readers......wait, i don't have any of those.  oh well.

hmmm...trainwrecked that one.  i think i'll stop that thought and move on to another one.  i can already tell that this will be one of those posts that i don't proofread before i publish.  i apologize for any spelling, gramatical, or sensical errors herein..."

...after this point, the post just deteriorated into a bunch of slop that i don't want people to read.  maybe the funny (= peculiar, Jordan) thing is that i feel that coming on in this post.  well, we'll see where i end up this time.

away message for the week:
(it's funny because it's true)

BTW, JT1701A is my roomate from last year. he was one of those TOO-conservative republicans that thought it was a good idea to boycott anything bearing the name of "France" and to rename french fries "Freedom Fries." yeah. he really was that ridiculous. andyways, i found the herobuilder website to be hilarious.  especially the hate mail section.  and while i don't fully understand those Frenchies, i can definitely understand why they think we're all just arrogant pigs.  Americans can act like such fools.  we think we're so much cooler than everybody else, infallible and unbeatable.  i think that humility (speaking of existentialists, Neil) is one of the most lacking of all of America's traits.  ...well...that sure what a weird sentance construction.  oh well.  i'm moving on now.

lyrics for the night:
i keep coming back to Mars iLL...
they are probably my favorite hip-hop artists because of their creative underground sound and intelligent lyrics driven by knowledge of Christ.  basically, if you've never heard them, come to my room sometime and i'll play it for you. you may or may not like them, but that's the way underground rap rolls.  hehe...speaking of those Frogs on the other side of the big Pond, i just read a good interview between Mars iLL emcee, ManCHILD, and some guy names Sylv who's representin the French site, "Hip Hop Section" (which is apparently now closed).  here's the link

oh kay, after i sifted through the first 8 pages of websites that Google gave me..i gave up on trying to find lyrics from their older album, Raw Material. (that link is a good review on the album) and transcribed these on my own.  i also sent them into a bunch of lyric sites, so hopefully people will start getting more Mars iLL lyrics, because they're (as one review described them) "off the heezey."  don't be intimidated by the length.  i'm sure most people won't actually read them...or maybe even won't read this post at all because of how long i know it will end up being.  but...um... get over it.  or just don't read 'em.  i'm not actually sure why i'm putting all of the lyrics for the song on here.  oh well.

andyways, here's "Sounds of Music" by Mars iLL:

yo we invite you in your session to witness pure perfection
right here in the form of these finest phonograph selections
drums in all directions arrange total inflections
sound penetrate your chest like some sort of iLL infection
reflect eternally on these high fidelity masses
whisper secrets in your eyes in the form of ghetto blasters
rappin' till the rapture--what you need, not what you want
as we represent the art form that was born in the Bronx,
formed in the songs and heart;
makin fake emcees have nightmares
mics scare you straighter than the man in Times Square
right there, the dopest vocalist hold it down like an anchor
drivin' the mic like a motorist, yellin' "rappers are in danger!"
beautify tracks like trains by graph pain
speak to rap fans like family even though your perfect strangers
emcees showin' their anger, so they be--they stand true
the sounds of music: do, re, mi--"peace to Julie Andrew"

chorus (2x):
sounds bounce through back alleys; pound the grounds of where you live
we felt the call to pack in yous, wall to wall--and we did
all you kids had whoever, who were holdin it down
all in all, we do this now so you can soak up the sound

yo it's the sounds of music, fluid hip-hop melodies
sounds that confound artificially profound emcees
who bombard our TVs, CDs, and radio frequencies
with feces and ______ constructed with feces and fantasies
that aint about nothin like Seinfeld
our rhymes fell from grace from the moment of their conception
but a warm reception accentuated their deception
from the cradle to the grave so many kids are now unable
to relate the deity so many believe is just a fable
but yo two turn tables with DJ Dust in their midst
and these emcees with microphones embedded in their fists
are packed to jest with acumen and clarity, a rarity in this industry, unplugged from reality
hey yo can it be king hip-hop is buck naked
i'll be the first one to tell it, but i'm sure they won't sell it,
and fat beats and earwax, though my man, Dust's tracks push the envelope creatively all the way up to the max
and jacks just about anything else you'll hear
like "yo, where my air drums at?" (they right here)
yo, songs in the key of life, transposed in the flows
i chose to oppose that which rips holes in men's souls

i strum vocal chords like strings with the flick of my tongue
hum hymns from back alleys, where it's always been done
breathe the breath of God's music into digital lungs
breathe the breath of salvation into physical ones
spin syntax symphonies over tympani drums
compose orchestras of prose until the Trinity comes
we flip word puns and similes that stun
but with us you'll undergo what most will never overcome
kids chase the cats while we're content to just make sense
so call me in your chorus; son, you got my simple ______
your song is interference--short and broken like staccato
i shout up _____ with my intelligent vibrato
making music is my motto, for the Messiah that will last
music had no voice until we spoke on their behalf
and now we're fighting to recall, screaming yes ya'll
make me classic like guitars, played at Carnegie Hall
so we give it our all, craft staffs and scaling half-notes
down tributary treble clefs, our melody's the backstroke
rhymin for full-time, freestyle--we're new, unrehearsed
syntax a single grief to move this vinyl universe

chorus

we're holdin' down the evolution of stereophonic sound
ultrasonic combinations of thought and revolution
i fill spots like a (condom?), plus i made a resolution:
"don't take part in part of the practice of mind and noise pollution"
voice of the solution, but no one really wants to hear
the God of Abraham and Isaac was the answer all these years
do i have to strike hearts, like Richard Gere with Primal Fear?
in the driver's seat of life, are really most too blind to steer?
target ears with acoustic weapons, the music of the culture
collect props from heads like Flint and we'll be honored with your sculpture
steer clear of idolatry, and __________ hypocrisy help high in the halls of "we"
it tell the fly to be grounded, the sharp to be more rounded
when you master the fastest of the craft we'll be astounded
hold fast to syllabic patterns and different forms of meaning
use the vocab: teach the masses when you're blasting through the speaker
the power's behind the tongue--i'm the novel, you're the reader
i'm the manCHILD--i speak for the Most High Elohim, the Leader
surpassing heads __________ holding it down for the underground
we're holding now the evolution of stereophonic sound

chorus