i don't know, man

hella money, on craigslist
This made he have a dumb thought that contains a (maybe) interesting thought, which led to another dumb thought: A few decades from now, the president himself could very well be a longboarder. The 2014 Academy Awards gave its first Oscar to someone capable of landing switch heelflps (Spike Jonze). Surely the highest office is but decades away for someone who has mastered skateboarding’s lower, and longer form. Sure, longboarders are stupid, but they also skew alpha, and anyone who wasn’t, I don’t know, taking bong rips and longboarding their way through the early ’00s knows that combination is no barrier to the White House. And should that come to pass, I better hope he didn’t read that thing (or, for that matter, the other thing that pissed people off) because these things live forever, and we have no idea who might come across them now or 50 years in the future. And my concern is that he’ll see it and lock my Avatar in Singularity Prison (which is Thought Catalog).

This made he have a dumb thought that contains a (maybe) interesting thought, which led to another dumb thought: A few decades from now, the president himself could very well be a longboarder. The 2014 Academy Awards gave its first Oscar to someone capable of landing switch heelflps (Spike Jonze). Surely the highest office is but decades away for someone who has mastered skateboarding’s lower, and longer form. Sure, longboarders are stupid, but they also skew alpha, and anyone who wasn’t, I don’t know, taking bong rips and longboarding their way through the early ’00s knows that combination is no barrier to the White House. And should that come to pass, I better hope he didn’t read that thing (or, for that matter, the other thing that pissed people off) because these things live forever, and we have no idea who might come across them now or 50 years in the future. And my concern is that he’ll see it and lock my Avatar in Singularity Prison (which is Thought Catalog).

The only things that interest me in the U.S. are Tupac Shakur, Allen Ginsberg, and Jackson Pollock.

Vladislav Surkov, the chief architect of Putinism. (via thenewrepublic)

What’s funny about this is if you replace Tupac with “Levi’s jeans,” Ginsberg with “Marlboro reds,” and Pollock with “VHS player,” it becomes a classic 80s-vintage Russian joke.

Cellski “Streets of Frisco (Chopped and Screwed)”

by Jesse Likey

Not saying I’m responsible for this, but, when I was 17 years old, “Breakin News” came out, and E-40 had an album signing at the Rasputin’s in San Lorenzo. I drove out there after school with a couple of friends and an empty gallon jug of Carlo Rossi Burgundy — what I thought would be a novel thing to have my favorite rapper sign. I was also, conveniently, and entirely thanks to E-40, really into drinking Rossi at the time. The line was way too long and hardly moving — everyone else had been listening to KMEL, I guess — and I eventually gave in before I even set foot in Rasputin’s. So I went back across the bridge, I’m pretty sure, to go do my homework. (This is partially a story about how time can make priorities look totally misplaced.)
Fast forward about eight years and I’m interviewing E-40 for a Complex piece about his catalog. While we’re talking about “Carlo Rossi,” I tell him this story, and, nice guy that he is, he tells me if I’m back in the Bay Area he’ll make it up to me, which I thought was a nice gesture, even if it was obvious neither of us would follow up on it.
Anyway, if you’re an underage drinker who goes to this bottle signing, and the line is really long, just stick it out. Also, it’s Friday, right? High schoolers don’t do homework on Fridays. 
And you’re welcome, because I gave E-40 this idea (maybe).

Not saying I’m responsible for this, but, when I was 17 years old, “Breakin News” came out, and E-40 had an album signing at the Rasputin’s in San Lorenzo. I drove out there after school with a couple of friends and an empty gallon jug of Carlo Rossi Burgundy — what I thought would be a novel thing to have my favorite rapper sign. I was also, conveniently, and entirely thanks to E-40, really into drinking Rossi at the time. The line was way too long and hardly moving — everyone else had been listening to KMEL, I guess — and I eventually gave in before I even set foot in Rasputin’s. So I went back across the bridge, I’m pretty sure, to go do my homework. (This is partially a story about how time can make priorities look totally misplaced.)

Fast forward about eight years and I’m interviewing E-40 for a Complex piece about his catalog. While we’re talking about “Carlo Rossi,” I tell him this story, and, nice guy that he is, he tells me if I’m back in the Bay Area he’ll make it up to me, which I thought was a nice gesture, even if it was obvious neither of us would follow up on it.

Anyway, if you’re an underage drinker who goes to this bottle signing, and the line is really long, just stick it out. Also, it’s Friday, right? High schoolers don’t do homework on Fridays. 

And you’re welcome, because I gave E-40 this idea (maybe).

The cosmological principle states that the universe is homogeneous and isomorphic. Look at the universe on a large enough scale and it’s made of enormous walls of galaxy clusters, each billions of light years across, containing millions of galaxies that themselves contain billions of stars, forming a fragile web between vast and empty voids. Great things happen. Galaxies collide, stars are born and burn out, intelligent life stares out into the darkness and dreams stories for itself. Look at the universe on a slightly larger scale and the filaments and voids vanish. The universe is a flat grey expanse, all matter and all energy distributed evenly across its infinity, with no structure and no hidden meaning. On a large enough scale, the heat death of the universe has already happened. The world we think we inhabit, with its iridescent nebulae and heroic struggles for life and Between Two Ferns with Zach Galifianakis – it’s a translation error, a glitch between the blankness of the large-scale universe and the blankness of subatomic chaos. You exist, miraculously, in the middle of this precarious mistake of heterogeneity, and President Barack Obama has decided that he has the right to snuff out your life by missile-armed robot in the event that you might pose a threat to the future security of a national abstraction. And that’s pretty funny.

—From Sam Kriss’s "First as funny, then as die."