Having read my share of tell-alls over the year, including some that were passed off as autobiographies, I mostly feel sad - sometimes for the writer and sometimes for all the people in his way. I hope that the process of writing the tell-all gives some release and closure on what clearly was an unpleasant and unfulfilling life experience.
And if Flip was here he would go, "What is y'alls saying?" -BIG TYMERS">yeah-yeah-yeah-if-david-banner-was-here-right-now-he-would-just-look-at-yall-muthafuckas-go-damn-and-if-flip-was-here-he-would-go-what-is-yalls-big-tymers
But there were alternative media outlets. Oh sure, and you know who listens to them? Pansy, overeducated know-it-alls, and you know who listens to them? Nobody! Who's going to care about some PBS-NPR fringe minority that's out of touch with the mainstream? The more those elitist eggheads shouted "The Dead Are Walking," the more most real Americans tuned them out.
I believe God himself will someday debate with and answer every objection arrogant men can come up with against him; I believe he will humble us and humor himself. Know-it-alls, pseudo-intellectuals, militant anti-theists, for Christ's sake, or rather their own sake, best beware of getting roasted by their own medicine. Ah! Our delusions of trying to argue against an omniscient Creator.
Some tips for life: 1.Don't be afraid to follow your dreams, unless your dreams are stupid. 2.Be kind to people. 3.Don't get too excited when you read the Fountainhead 4.In times of recession, it is time for invention. 5.Things can kill you, so keep that in mind, you fearless know it alls.
The gun-control crusade today is like the Prohibition crusade 100 years ago. It is a shared zealotry that binds the self-righteous know-it-alls in a warm fellowship of those who see themselves as fighting on the side of the angels against the forces of evil. It is a lofty role that they are not about to give up for anything so mundane as facts - or even the lives of other people.
Men wanted to be strong. One way to be strong was to be knowledgeable. In so many areas, it was not possible to be knowledgeable without getting a Ph.D. and doing a postdoc. Guns and hunting provided an out for men who wanted to be know-it-alls but who couldn't afford to spend the first three decades of their lives getting up to speed on quantum mechanics or oncology.
Great travel writing consists of equal parts curiosity, vulnerability and vocabulary. It is not a terrain for know-it-alls or the indecisive. The best of the genre can simply be an elegant natural history essay, a nicely writ sports piece, or a well-turned profile of a bar band and its music. A well-grounded sense of place is the challenge for the writer. We observe, we calculate, we inquire, we look for a link between what we already know and what we're about to learn. The finest travel writing describes what's going on when nobody's looking.
The cure-alls of the present day are infinitely various and infinitely obliging. Applied psychology, autosuggestion, and royal roads to learning or to wealth are urged upon us by kindly, if not altogether disinterested, reformers. Simple and easy systems for the dissolution of discord and strife; simple and easy systems for the development of personality and power. Booklets of counsel on 'How to Get What We Want,' which is impossible; booklets on 'Visualization,' warranted to make us want what we get, which is ignoble.
Will this massive outcry [about pollution] continue long enough to have effective results? Will federal and state laws be enacted with effective enforcement clauses? Will people be concerned long enough to pay the bill through higher prices? Will towns tole lost jobs when it proves too costly to clean obsolete plants?... I think so, but it sure won't be as easy as the present outcry and political oratory suggest. The answers to preserving a livable environment are not all simple, and some of the nuts now pushing simplistic cure-alls won't help bring about any lasting solutions.
Yet I never sought what is real, yearned for the real, but rather I have yearned for dreams more than solid things. I can say I love the textures of dreams. The way they hover and almost taste. The clouds and darkness that linger behind, mostly unseen. And the palette of dreams. You can almost taste the colours, they seem as words on the tip of the tongue, unsayable as pomegranate seeds, unsayable as thick cream, the darkness of such a thick cream. This is why I am obsessed with dreams. They know what we cannot. Night after night they try and tell us the impossible. Dreams are secret and closed, and also contain everything, gushing, splayed open. Dream suitcases, carpetbags, hold-alls. They influence us secretly and they draw me to travel to nowhere, to beauty's passage, through halls of mirrors where I know I am not myself, I know I am sublime.
YO I'M A GANGSTA, OUTLAW; INDOOR, OUTDOOR NIGGA TELL ME, RIGHT, LOON GOIN SOUTH PAW IT'S BAD BOY WE DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT Y'ALL STEP IN THE ROOM SEE THE BITCH COME UP OUT Y'ALL I FUCK WITH NIGGAS BUT IT'S SOMETHING ABOUT Y'ALL ACTIN LIKE LOON CAN'T DO SHIT WITHOUT Y'ALL I CAUGHT MY MENSES IN BENZES THAT OUT Y'ALLS SEE HOW IT FEEL WHEN YOUR FRIENDS BE WITHOUT Y'ALL I BEEN DOIN IT, COKE I BEEN MOVIN IT BEFORE YOU NIGGAS THOUGHT OF THE BLOCK I BEEN THROUGH WITH IT KEEP CONFUSIN THIS MUSIC SHIT, DIE FOR SOME FOOLISHNESS FRONTIN LIKE YOU A HARDWARE USIN BITCH YOU HIT THE BLOCK, PROLLY LOSE YOUR WHIP NIGGAS SNATCH YOUR WATCH AND THE ROCKS OUT YOUR CRUCIFIX WATCH HOW WE DO THIS SHIT, BAD BOY 2KIN IT SO PLAYBOY, WHAT TYPE OF PAPER IS YOU PLAYIN WIT
P. Diddy F/ Loon