pablo worship

“triple-double no assists”

in a very generous footnote of the rap yearbook, shea serrano extrapolates that the categories that would fill out this line would be points, rebounds, and steals because he doesn’t see kanye getting ten blocks.

i disagree, because i feel like since he has come on the scene, kanye has blocked everything.

he has also made so many new lanes for himself, others, rap and the world itself-so i suggest that history refutes the original statement.

overall, he has an excellent assist to turnover ratio, and that’s what we should strive for in life.

at some point after the 2015 all-star game, i disgustedly tweeted “kanye westbrook” in reaction to the escalated showboating in okc, and i wasn’t talking about any of the good parts of kanye‘s game. in real life-russ put up a triple-double every night, some nights (including that aforementioned turning point for me) a quadruple-double because he seemed to be averaging 19 turnovers and 3 technical fouls. that was also the year that he was excused from the automatic suspension that comes after every 16th technical foul, and harden was suspended because lebron ran his dick into his outstretched foot (he was on the floor-how the fuck do you kick someone in the balls from the floor? oh, well-when they slam their dick into your foot, that’s how). but hey-the calls are uneven in the nba. and not just as a raptors’ fan either, but that’s another other issue.

all this is a super roundabout way to talk about how kanye is a god. and the devil. i’m not religious, so the fact that this is a fine line is more important to me than which side of it we want to situate his toe at any given moment. (or ourselves for that matter).

i’ve seen kanye the most in concert. and i will continue to go every time. i’ve seen him in every major city that i’ve lived in, and i’ve mostly seen him alone, either on a press pass or a “nobody else is putting up the money at this moment and i will not miss this show” tip.

but this is the first time i’ve been to kanye alone, and he was alone on stage/floating barge.

the visual design was stunning and brilliant. just him-tethered to the thing, with his jacket behind him, like tom hanks on the island with that volleyball.

kanye made the mosh pit under him a focal point of the show, and gave us no choice but to be present. you couldn’t take pictures-the cameras were shit and every picture turned out terrible. you had to just be there. and sing lyrics that you didn’t know you knew about bleaching assholes. and being assholes. and toasting assholes. bookended.

those beats from those songs coursing through your veins were all you needed to know.

tuesday was the 11th anniversary of late registration. i wish he would’ve played “roses”. in fact, this is an incomplete list of songs that i would like to hear the next time i see kanye:

-roses
-big brother
-spaceships
-clique
-selfish (first- “if you’re fresh to death, i’m deceased”, second- if you can work out “pop style”, you can do this one)
-my baby (first- “first pair of earrings i can wear in the shower”, second-ibid.)
-monster (i don’t need rick ross, and my favourite line is actually…”(pause)..ghoul” and the evidence thatnicki won rap that time, obviously)
-blame game
-2 words
-hater (i mean, i believed he rhymed “pyoom pyoom pyoom” here)
-gotta have it

you know-just putting it out there and such. looking at this more closely, it feels like i’m conjuring my dream setlist for (keep) watching the throne, too.

well.

his merch this time was largely garbage, but i think that’s further proof of his genius. people bought it. people always buy it-remember when he went through that phase with those dumb plastic glasses?! when he convinced chunky doods to wear skinny jeans?! (that was when he released a book called thank you and you’re welcome). i laughed a lot at people wearing/flocking to that ridiculous script, but succumbed at the brush paint tee of his late mother (i read her book too). i’m not crazy about the back of the tee, but blazer season is coming.

when i wrote for pound, i was once charged for being the champion for every rapper having moved 10,000 copies or less. scottie pippen was also my first basketball hero. i’m canadian and could give two shits about la or new york, but chicago and detroit will always be my heart.

i did not know, until another footnote in the rap yearbook, that kanye’s best-selling albums have been: my beautiful dark twisted fantasy, graduation, 808s and heartbreak, late registration, yeezus and the college dropout.

i always figured that the first (and best, to me) was somewhere further up there in copies moved, but hey-i know what i know. even when i don’t know it.

“that means i forgot better shit than you ever thought of”

and, that’s another reminder for my dream set list.

yeezus saves. and kills. and resurrects. and thrills.

if this is not the definition of what a genius does and inspires, i don’t know what is. so can we just squash this argument for the last time, please?

thank you, mister west (mister west).

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