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Author Topic: Gizoogle  (Read 4527 times)

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  • Bacon Research & Sparkle Development/Cr0ndog Millionaire
  • City Elder
  • Posts: 7,447
Re: Gizoogle
« Reply #15 on: June 03, 2013, 02:06:44 PM »

And an Amazon review of "Jonathan Livingston Seagull"...

Most Helpful Hustla Reviews
239 of 255 playas found tha followin review helpful
4.0 outta 5 stars A short book wit pimped out meaning April 27, 2005
Format:PaperbackIt aint nuthin but straight-up dunkadelic dat dis book, published up in 1970, gots onto tha top sellaz of all time list. Well shiiiit, it is barely 127 pages long - n' dat includes nuff pagez of seagull photos, wit straight-up few lyrics per page. Da margins is straight-up big-ass WHAT! It aint nuthin but a rap on some seagull who, unlike his comrades, aint aiiight yellin "Mine biaaatch! Mine biaaatch! Mine!" fo' chicken n' you know I be eatin up dat shizzle all muthafuckin day, biatch. I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Dude loves ta soar, n' fly yo. Dude faces rejection n' ridicule fo' his quest fo' pimped outer heights fo' realz. And of course, he inspires all of our asses ta reach fo' our goals.

So first, obviously dis book is REALLY short. I just re-read it and, without racin at all, I was done up in 16 minutes. It aint nuthin but straight-up short. There aren't long, drawn up characterizations here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Jonathan learns ta fly well up in bout 2 pages, n' by page 31 he is straight-up aware of all of his game. By page 57 he up in "Heaven" - or at least up in another stage of game up in wit like-minded seagulls, bustin lyrics wit telepathy. Chiang is tha elder there whoz ass drops some lyrics ta Jonathan dat there straight-up is no Heaven - dat Heaven is tha state of bein perfect. Jonathan decides ta return ta Ghetto n' help others yo. Dude spendz all dem pages teachin Fletcher his game, n' then vanishes, leavin Fletcher ta teach tha freshly smoked up seagull hustlas how tha fuck ta fly. Da rap ends.

Really, tha rap here is dat Jonathan n' Fletcher was not "special" up in any way. Da point is made nuff times dat they was seagulls like any others. Da difference is dat they chose ta strive ta mo' betta theyselves. They was not content ta merely smoke n' chill. They wanted ta become straight-up phat at what tha fuck they could do - fly. Da eldaz explain dat fo' nuff people, dis process takes nuff gametimes. If you do well up in a given game, you graduate ta a "higher" game where you can then work wit playas on yo' next stage of progress. If you just git by up in yo' current game, then you git reborn tha fuck into dat same level, ta have another chizzle ta strive.

So itz straight-up bangin-ass how tha fuck different playas have interpreted dis book ta be a religious tome. Christians often say dat Jonathan standz fo' Jizzy yo. Dude started doin thangs "with men" - he learns his special game, n' then he returns ta earth ta help guide mankind ta be mo' betta n' shit. Therez even a mob scene where tha "normal seagulls" try ta bust a cap up in Jonathan fo' bein different. On tha other hand, tha rap clearly says there is no Heaven - dat tha deal wit game is ta keep tryin n' tryin until you figure up yo' own path ta perfection. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da reincarnation n' perfection-from-within is straight-up Buddhist. It aint nuthin but not a external Dogg dat gives you dis perfection. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass is born wit tha innate mobilitizzle ta attain perfection - but it is up ta you ta find tha desire n' take tha steps ta reach dat shit.

Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I owned dis book fo' nuff muthafuckin years n' do trip off dat shit. But I do gotta say dat it is REALLY short n' straight-up basic. Da whole Jonathan evolution is barely touched on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass don't git much sense of growth as he instantly goes from aiiight seagull ta glowin Special Seagull. This is sort of a theological primer fo' dem playas whoz ass don't normally read books on philosophy. There is many, nuff books up there dat git tha fuck into these sortz of topics up in a gangbangin' far mo' meaningful way. But on tha other hand, much as tha Matrix series gots nuff non-philosophy hustlas ta learn bout some pretty basic philosophical ideas, dis book also opened tha door fo' nuff playas on tha scamz of strivin fo' inner perfection. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. If you handed all of these playas a cold-ass lil complex tome on tha topic, they probably wouldn't have read dat shit. But maybe by gettin dat door opened, n' dat interest piqued, they then went forward n' hustled mo' n' mo' n' mo'. Yo ass gotta git dat interest started somewhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. If tha interest came from a super-short, supa easy as fuck ta read, picture-filled booklet, do it straight-up matter?

On a underground note, I straight-up do feel dat playas need ta sit back n' consider what tha fuck they spend they minutes each dizzle bustin. We only have one game - n' most of our asses whoz ass can afford ta loot books have a dunkadelic wealth of luck dat 90% of tha ghettoz population tripz of having. Our thugged-out asses have clothes, our crazy asses have places ta chill, our crazy asses have access ta healthy chicken n' gin n juice n' shit. Well shiiiit, it would be a straight-up dope thang if each of our asses dropped even a portion of our dizzle reachin up ta help others, ta help tha ghetto become a funky-ass mo' betta place fo' our asses all ta live in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. All our asses dudes on't need ta peep TV - there be other far mo' blingin thangs ta do up in tha game.
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  • City Elder
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  • It's personal.
Re: Gizoogle
« Reply #16 on: June 03, 2013, 02:34:22 PM »

Excerpts from FDR's inauguration address.
I be certain dat mah fellow Gangstas expect dat on mah induction tha fuck into tha Presidency I'ma address dem wit a cold-ass lil candor n' a thugged-out decision which tha present thang of our playas impel. This is preeminently tha time ta drop a rhyme tha real deal, tha whole truth, frankly n' boldly. Nor need we shrink from straight-up facin conditions up in our ghetto todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! This pimped out Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive n' will prosper n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, first of all, let me assert mah firm belief dat tha only thang we gotta fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts ta convert retreat tha fuck into advance. In every last muthafuckin dark minute of our nationistic game a leadershizzle of franknizz n' vigor has kicked it wit wit dat understandin n' support of tha playas theyselves which is essential ta victory. I be convinced dat yo big-ass booty is ghon again n' again n' again give dat support ta leadershizzle up in these critical days.


Hand up in hand wit dis we must frankly recognize tha overbalizzle of population up in our industrial centas and, by engagin on a nationistic scale up in a redistribution, endeavor ta provide a funky-ass mo' betta use of tha land fo' dem dopest fitted fo' tha land. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da task can be helped by definite efforts ta raise tha jointz of agricultural shizzle n' wit dis tha juice ta purchase tha output of our ghettos. Well shiiiit, it can be helped by preventin realistically tha fuck up of tha growin loss all up in foreclosure of our lil' small-ass cribs n' our farms. Well shiiiit, it can be helped by insistence dat tha Federal, State, n' local posses act forthwith on tha demand dat they cost be drastically reduced. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Well shiiiit, it can be helped by tha unifyin of relief activitizzles which todizzle is often scattered, uneconomical, n' unequal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Well shiiiit, it can be helped by nationistic plannin fo' n' supervision of all formz of transportation n' of communications n' other utilitizzles which gotz a thugged-out definitely hood character n' shit. There is nuff ways up in which it can be helped yo, but it can never be helped merely by rappin' bout dat shit. We must act n' act doggystyle.


It be ta be hoped dat tha aiiight balizzle of executizzle n' legislatizzle authoritizzle may be wholly adequate ta hook up tha unprecedented task before us. But it may be dat a unprecedented demand n' need fo' undelayed action may call fo' temporary departure from dat aiiight balizzle of hood procedure.


In dis dedication of a Nation our crazy asses humbly ask tha blessin of Dogg. May Dude protect each n' every last muthafuckin one of us. May Dude guide me up in tha minutes ta come.
smiley face
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