We just ate the whole cake. That’s right, if you watched IT, then you were just forced to eat the whole fucking cake without knowing what was underneath the frosting.🎂
Do you taste it? The after?… That flavor is a pallet that just doesn’t go away after a rinse; it’s the smell lurking type.👃🏾
The theme of this article is “what isn’t being said after it was all said.” Scared to be too late into the Glover dance analyzation game, after 5 days of rewrites, no sleep, and deep hesitation about what is wrong or right to say, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather fail big than fail small. I have to do what I feel. Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant broke the record for the most shots in the NBA, but what no one ever talks about is that they also have the most missed shots. You gotta keep throwing shit out there. I never want to hurt anyone and don’t intend to. If I’m wrong, then I’m wrong. Make sense of what you will, this is just my art, my rap track. Being culturally appropriate here at TLG. 👊🏽
Here we go. After eating Glover’s whole cake, I drove through one of the blackest streets in America blasting Donald Glover’s This is America, something felt so wrong about publicly playing that song as black people glanced, like I was exposing it to cultural appropriation, and for playing it and not being black. There’s an entire conversation about Glover’s video that we aren’t having. What isn’t being talked about is, is it appropriate for a non-black person to enjoy the song and dance to it? What’s appropriate? Intention is. Moral is.
After cruising through the streets whilst during a media triad of Glover, the Met Gala, and Kanye’s free thoughts, this story came to me. It’s what I thought of, so I wrote it. Here we go. Fail big.
Donald Glover’s This is America
There once was a King Silverback Gorilla. He looked after his own, kept his family safe from outsiders, and knew that his type were being hunted and on the verge of extinction. He could always foretell when danger lurked and taught others how to spot it. He was brave and in moments when an attacker approached, he would beat his chest, growl, and doing everything he could to distract the danger until his pack family could flee to safety. When he and his family weren’t running from poachers and had a moment to rest, he’d find a grassy patch were the sun shined and he’d begin to sing. His family would often join in with the hums and hoos. The King was growing old and was tired. He had a big heart and always hoped that the poachers from the West could exist with gorillas peacefully like the rest of the Wild. One day, whilst happily in the free sun, the King was relaxed and saw several poachers coming forth. Un-instinctually and sun-dazed, he thought “maybe if I showed them I was friendly, they’d come join and sing with us.” He started to hum and dance to distract the poachers, but his family got confused. “Why would King hum and not growl?” Because they followed King, the rest of the pack joined in and sang and danced in front of the men with guns. The poachers had never seen something like this before. “Gorillas dancing? What a rare thing to join in on.” So the poachers joined in and danced with the primates and even locked both their five-finger-hands, but as time passed and the gorillas were ready to retreat to the forest, the hums stopped and thats when the poachers were no longer distracted. It was fun, but unlike gorillas, poachers are carnivores and they had to feed with a their bounties. So as the gorillas waved goodbye and turned their trusted backs, a poacher made a monkey sound, “oo ah ah”, Keep Reading
Haven’t you heard? Oppressed Asian girls went bippity boppity boo and got a badass makeover to prove they were just as legally … Keep Reading
The new American Dream is to be at Zero. To be at Zero means time. Time means freedom. “My youth is the … Keep Reading
Breaking Bullshit: While you traded digital currency for digital products during this oh-so-record breaking cyber weekend with your visa cards, bitcoin quadrupled,🤑 and … Keep Reading
30 something-year-olds take their followers, likers, and story views equally as serious as millennials; they just pretend to not care. There is … Keep Reading
Mirror mirror on my wall, look at who I follow to see through it all.
While the U.S. Congress and hashtag-trolls bitch about the all-powerful-yucky-Zucky, ya’ll forget that the devil is in the details you give. You want privacy ay? You want to remain the mystery woman of the night? Boys wanna keep their Tristan Thompson game? Well wee’z about to get real-as-phuck right now. Leave Zuckerberg alone, dis shit is on you.
Having an instagram is like having a home address, it’s a place where you live, and a place that you decorate and constantly reinvent yourself. It’s a place where you discover fetishes you never knew you had, like butt girls, oozing fudge brownies, fuzzy pups, before and after hungry hoes… whatever you look for, there’s a destination for you to travel to on IG. It’s a space to invite your friends and watch not-real-story reality selfie shows. It’s your best fake friend that you share every moment with. Giving your instagram ‘screenname’ (yeah, I’m old school like dat) to someone you just swiped right on is so so very much more than giving your digits. When someone asks for your IG, they are inquiring in the same way of some crystal loving unemployed Venice dweller who asks what your sun sign is. Your instagram can make or break someone’s opinion of you, it can make you undateable, unemployable, and unreal. Keep Reading
The Last Generation has an anthem. It’s this.
If you’ve made it to 2018, then you are living during a time when everything is watching and nothing is real. You no longer need real friends or real dollars or real experiences. Who needs real sex when you can watch porn alone in your apartment? Who needs change in your pocket when you’ve got it in the blockchain? Who needs real friends, when your phone knows you better than anyone? Who needs a therapist when you have Alexa? Who needs Jesus, when Kim K’s got more instagram followers than Him? Why go visit little kids in Africa when you pretend to be with them by wearing pair goggles? Why go to college when you’ve got Youtube and Mukbang videos? Why have laws when you can have guns?! Now you can just go on the dark web and get an epic night mailed to you through the US Postal Service! Sex robots are real AF.
Advice: always buy a keyboard cover and if you’re gonna buy DMT, make sure your back-alley dealer has at least 300 reviews… don’t want to get that made in China shit.
A never ending store window, are you in?
Side note: TLG Founder doesn’t drink or do drugs, but she gets IT.
– Written by Mel Blanchard Gong
The last. There is a last to everything. There’s a last moment to a day, to an hour, to a minute. There is a last encounter you will have with everyone you meet and a last chance you will have to do what you want to do. There is a last breath you will take, a last memory you will have when you were young, a last feeling of what love felt like, and a last time.
Nothing waits for you but the last. Keep Reading
The only person that will truly show up for you in life is yourself. 6 and 6 is when I show up for myself, sunrise and sunset. I haven’t seen the sunrise in the past month. Why? Because I’ve been on Instagram. After writing Getting to Know Someone, without Getting to Know Someone, something happened… I remembered why I had started The Last Generation. I didn’t want someone to get to know me without getting to know me. If instagram is the new form of a home address, then the thing is, I don’t want anyone knowing where I live.
Will you remember who I am when I’m no longer @ ? I hope not, remember me for me.
Can you be homesick for a place or person you’ve never met? I feel homesick all the time.
We dream. We dream about our dream unjob, a dream home (or apartment cause that’s what us TLG’ers are stuck with), that dream car, the dream wedding, the dream instagramable destination, our dream ultimate self (or at least our dream of how we appear on social media), and our dream love, but does one ever dream about their dream friend? Other people are everything and you are what you think not only of yourself, but what you think of others.
Who do you turn to when you get ghosted by that guy you met by the swipe of your finger? Who do you turn to on holidays when your family isn’t so good? Who do you turn to when your heart gets broken or your rent controlled apartment balcony collapses? You turn to your friends.
If you could have a dream friend, who would that be? What would you do together? What would silence feel like when there was no sound? How would this person support that missing piece… you know that thing you’re homesick for even if you’ve never seen it, or been there, or truly felt it.
You can tell a lot about a Ho by her Christmas tree. From black angels up-top to Pottery Barn down below, there are three types of Christmas Ho’s.
Note: Don’t get a Christmas Ho twiest with a Tinder Hoe. Tres diferente!
Disclaimer: If you don’t identify with the Three Ho’s of Christmas, then you simply aren’t a ho. Nice job!👍🏾Maybe…
Other Note: Ho’s can me a combination of Ho’s and men can be Ho’s too.
#HoToo
“Lakshman lakshman lakshman ong ong lakshman. Now shake your hips as fast as you can, imagine gold, and let your kundalini rise! Chant this to get rich in 2017.” preached a white blonde “guru” sitting on a golden throne wearing a white turban.
In the dark, I hypnotically moved my body, my arms swung from side to side and I imaged money pouring down. The freedom to just move compulsively, to reach wide and fast and sensual as I felt, plus it was gonna get rich. I had become a hindu God, Ganesh, with slithering arms and an elephant’s trunk defying gravity. Every time I said the mantra “lakshman,” I could take myself into this mythological cave world filled with mountains of gold and the luck of the Irish.
Laksham!
Boom. Indian God in Ireland. Boom, I’m gonna get rich.
Laksham! 2017 Laksham! 2018 Laksham! Am I rich yet?
New Years Eve, the most lonely night of the year.
I kept saying, “I’m not a butt girl.” as if I wasn’t good enough.
Gentleman don’t prefer blondes, they prefer butt girls.
Firstly, a butt girl MUST have an instagram account. A butt girl is a chick with a really hot body who has an instagram account that look just like every other gorgeous butt girl and yet you can’t look away. She has the thigh gap, tan skin, gorgeous other butt-girl friends, a perfect looking family, and all her photos consist of her butt, her model face, the beach, and her fabulous jet-set life. The thing is, although everyone already knows instagram profiles are curated and real life isn’t like the photos, you can’t help but want that butt girl’s fucking fabulous digital life. She’s got it all?
Don’t force the narrative. Just because she’s got a nice cheeky ass doesn’t mean she’s all that nice. Keep Reading
Breaking Bullshit: While you traded digital currency for digital products during this oh-so-record breaking cyber weekend with your visa cards, bitcoin quadrupled,🤑 and smart people made money while you bought shit you’re going to throw in the street a year from now. If you invested the amount you spent over the weekend on bitcoin, you’d be thanking us here at TLG.
REAL News! The first AI female Robot inappropriately grabbed a man by the balls because it was programed with slang terms and took it a little too literal! #BoycottAI #theNewHarveryWinestein #Humanists #hideyourHusbands
More Snippet News: In year 2017, humans turned themselves into robots and earth metamorphosed into Jeff Bezos’ echo-system. Keep Reading
30 something-year-olds take their followers, likers, and story views equally as serious as millennials; they just pretend to not care. There is an endangered breed of 30-somethings are not phased by likes, followers, and story lurkers. If you are this minority, then you are secretly admired by selfie addicts and phone mirror users. The fact is, social media likes and follows send a message and it is indeed THE new form of communication and people who communicate via social media coward away from talking about their new language. How do you understand a language if you don’t begin to study it? Millennials are already engrained to knowing this shit matters, so it’s the moment to make it an unfiltered conversation. It’s not just that likes send a oxytocin filled rush to the brain, it’s that likes and follows send a social message if you are in or out of someone’s artificial circle. Yes fake friends are real, but real friends now communicate in the passive aggressive digi space too and REAL FRIENDS, you are being called the fuck out right now. If your way of communicating with people you care about is through social media and if you think you’re caught up on your friends’ lives because you tune-in to their channels, then you kinda suck. You too are what is wrong with culture today. Keep Reading