Tag Archives: Black Eyed Peas

Rapper/Author Taboo

I’m definitely DVR’ing the Wendy Williams show tomorrow. The USA Today lists her guest as “Rapper/Author Taboo of Black Eyed Peas”.

Keeping it...real...

I hate hate hate the whole conceit of this “band”. The same conceit of Rush Limbaugh and Bon Jovi and VH1. It is this: People are stupid and will remain stupid for the foreseeable future. So let us make as much money off of these gullible fools as we can.” Instead of, you know, elevating the art or the discussion or whatever.

This is what the end of the world will look like. “I’m so 2008, you so 2000 and late…” HA!! Burn. At 3:50, after the one and only Slash comes out, you’ll notice the Duchess misses her pre-taped vocal-cue. Why bother? Then she starts to swayin’ like Axl used to do. Why bother?

This is what the end of the world looks like. Pomp, followed by concussions, followed by pre-taped mass choreography (sort of a cult of personality/commercialism) like they do the do in North Korea and shit. Watch the dancers and juxtapose with goose-stepping Nazis. See, Roger Waters was a fucking smart man. He saw this coming. He had seen it with his own eyes.

Followed by more concussions, then the emperor stands at the edge of the luxury boxes and offers up pollice verso to a waiting world, wondering not what it had just seen, but how many others have seen it too. Was it a success? Who cares? There’s fuckin’ SLASH!!!!!

I bet Slash couldn’t play THIS solo. I love this song, and always have. I think it’s a Marimba or it might be a vibraphone. Don’t care. One hit wonders, it’s still 1000x better than what all that money bought.

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Would we expect any less from that literary beacon known as Will.I.Am?

It’s one thing to rip off Matt Groening and concede in the act that you’ve run out of ideas. But it’s another to write this:

Honey got a booty like pow, pow, pow
Honey got some boobies like wow, oh wow
Girl you know I’m loving your, loving your style
Check, check, check, check, check, checking you out like,
Ooh (oooh) she got it allll
Sexy from her head to the toes
And I want it all, it all, it all

I’m really depressed now. Why fucking bother writing lyrics? The answer is simple.

1. Sniff glue.

2. Smash head against wall.

3. Write.

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