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Roundup November, 24 2010

Selectism | Around The Web

01. Kanye’s Dark Twisted Masterpiece

“I’ve got a bit of a problem when it comes to Kanye West. Well, not really a problem, but here it is: I’ve never been more fascinated by an artist while being so annoyed by just about everything about him. He’s the only rapper I’ve ever loved that I had zero desire to ever meet or hang out with. I mean none. Kanye’s the sort of dude that nags you to go five miles out of your way so he can get a shake from Cookout, and you’re most angry that Cookout is only drive thru because as soon as he went inside, you’d vamp and leave his punk ass standing there.

That, of course, has nothing to do with his music. Dude’s the greatest genius rap music has seen, the biggest thing in the last 10 years of pop music (help reshape the entire sound of hip hop like he did in ‘01, and yeah, you win that one). Four albums, three classics and a miss that screamed out “the label made me do it.”” (Bomani Jones)

02. Laughter, Memories and Oden

“Last week, I got a text. And I laughed.

At some point, you’ve just got to laugh. Not with your gut — a quick exhale will do — and certainly not at the misfortune. You know that this luck should befall none but the worst of us, none but the ultimate villains. You offer a short shake of your head and a brief downward gaze, and then a resumption of your life. You close the cell phone, and you close the book.

Oden’s done. And you laugh.” (Slam Online)

03. Posters by Kazumasa Nagai (Pictured Above)

“Here is a collection of posters by graphic artist Kazumasa Nagai from the 1960s and 1970s.” (Pink Tentacle)

04. Hunter S. Thompson, The Art of Journalism No. 1

“In an October 1957 letter to a friend who had recommended he read Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead, Hunter S. Thompson wrote, “Although I don’t feel that it’s at all necessary to tell you how I feel about the principle of individuality, I know that I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life expressing it one way or another, and I think that I’ll accomplish more by expressing it on the keys of a typewriter than by letting it express itself in sudden outbursts of frustrated violence. . . .” (Paris Review)

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