I check into my “yohumpjones” email account approximately once per fiscal year, and today was an appropriate moment for that. Lo and behold, I’m still getting actual mail for the Dear Humpasaur gig. Here’s the most recent bumper crop of burning questions—a lot of those older ones, I won’t answer. Just being real.
Q: My testicles have pretty much retracted into my body. That’s bad, right? What should I do?
Normally, I’d give you legal disclaimers, such as how my multiple medical degrees aren’t legally recognized inside the United States, but let’s face it: if you’re asking a rapper about your testicles, there is no healthcare plan in your life story. It’s sad but it happens.
I’m going to give it to you straight: medically speaking, this shit is probably not good. What you’re dealing with here is an involuntary full retraction of your Cremaster muscle and there’s only one way to deal with that. Fortunately, my fellow doctor Matthew Barney has gone through the whole process and he created an instructional series to guide you through it. It’s called the Cremaster Cycle, it’s very easy to find on The Pirate Bay and it’s just a straightforward explanation of what you can expect. Good luck to you, buddy. Send me an email, keep me posted.
Q: Is Breakup Music basically Detox?
First of all, Detox jokes got old a long time ago. That’s not a good look. As for Breakup Music, it’s in the can, it’s just being tempered in the flames. We’re putting time in to make it cinema. When we announce the date you will definitely hear about it.
Q: Be real with me, are you DJ Squid AKA #DAUG?
Yeah, I’m DJ Squid. I’m also Dr. Quandary, Louis Mackey and Man Mantis. I’m also Shabazz Palaces. NEXT!
Q: What is your favorite sexual position LOL?
That’s basically like asking who the best rapper is. There’s no meaningful answer for that. This may come as news to a few of you, but the point of that whole sport is MOVING AROUND. So I recommend all of them, every time, as much as possible. And stop killing me with the dumb questions.
The current and probably permanent picture that I have up on Twitter is a still from The Drunk and On Drugs Happy Hour, which you should definitely go see. It’s the same team that did Trailer Park Boys, and as Louis Mackey pointed out, it’s a lot like Trailer Park Boys on LSD. It’s very, very good LSD, though.
Q: What is your favorite project you’ve done so far?
So far so far? Probably this next Algorhythms tape. Possibly Keep it Moist. My favorite individual track so far is Over the Horizon, which I did with Naturetone, who is both dope and Swiss.
Q: What happened to the video for “Promotional Gift” with Signifire? Will there be more tracks with Signifire?
Yes, I will definitely do more jams with that cat, but no, there was never actually a video for that cut. That was a summer 2012 in-joke, I’m over it now, I’ll spill the beans. Menino never actually threatened us and Homeland Security never forced Youtube to pull the video: there was just never any video. The simplest explanation always works: after all, that’s how you figured out I was DJ Squid, right? Thanks for playing. SQUIDTAPE!!!
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My man Lou asked for an annotated deluxe edition decoder ring for this one. Fair enough & here goes. This is part of a project I’m working on with Daimyo, who is awesome.
smartest thing I ever did was get elected President
...after Oprah sold me The Secret, it was effortless
Oprah Winfrey is a compelling mix of horseshit cynical sentimentality and actual progressive awesomeness, but her participation in the mass marketing of The Secret was an all-time low point. In related news, Bill Clinton collects like half a million dollars every time he shows up to slur his way through a charming speech. Being elected President is, all in all, smart. Wicked smart.
from first credit card to second car to second kid
to second term, just accept the risks, lesson learned
An imaginary spin along the Boardgame of Life, daug, that’s all. Sure, I wrote that before Barry got re-elected but it’s not the first prophecy I’ve been responsible for. I like to think I make it look easy.
in a quantum state watching how my songs relate
I see I lost my way but question if I want to change
stop and contemplate contributing to constant hate
my conscience weighs a ton, my body’s lost some weight
You see how I just let it go for four whole bars there, dude? Shit is crazy, right? At the time I was living in Springfield, Illinois, barely alive, on some Princess Bride shit, being Platonically nursed back to life by my personal Andre the Giant, the Asheville NC emcee Slick Nick. For the record, although my conscience still exceeds the weight limits for conventional international shipments, my neck has gotten a lot stronger since I wrote that.
and I’m not even complicated, I just want some steak
sick of watching bloggers praising photocopied fakes
Left jab: General Statements. It’s important to call it how you see it, but ask yourself: how valuable are specifics right now? If it’s calling out a human piece of shit like Alistair McAlpine, sure, let’s dig into some details. If we’re just talking rappers, though…
dropping names is grade school drama games
not afraid, plus I’m also not afraid to walk away...
Right hook: Evasive Action. It’s important to remind these poodles they don’t actually fucking matter once it’s time to, for instance, cook dinner, or drink a 12 pack of Sierra Nevada in a can, dude, in a motherfucking can.
any artist I mention is starved for attention
I don’t feed the trolls meat, I sharpen my weapons
This part, of course, is difficult to reconcile with any knowledge whatsoever of who I am in real life. I do, of course, cook and serve delicious and highly carnivorous meals for trolls of all persuasions and take great personal delight in the LULZ that ensue. This probably what threw Lou off in the first place, because he knows how I get after those first 12 cans.
smoke weed, roast beef and leak bacon juice
stay fresh, break bread and feed haters, too
your favorite chef’s a meth head, freebasing food
but if you like to eat, babe, I got a cheap date for you
When I wrote this, I thought I was just being all lyrical and shit but it turns out to be, like most anything else I’ve done to myself in the past decade, eerily prophetic. I have since become obsessed with cookery and meal presentation and maximizing minimal budgets is a martial art I enjoy practicing.
main feature, my cuts are straight ether
not enough to launch my stuff past the gatekeepers
from first local shows to open road to breaking bones
and getting burned, gotta take control, lesson learned
Really, I might as well start doing 8 bar quotes because I am so sick of even listening to my own....alright, nevermind, let’s do this. There is a certain amount of jaded whining involved with this song in addition to a snarky critique of approaching indie rap as a business plan.
all the rookies know that booking shows is hella easy
later on they change their song to something else completely
I’m not sure, in retrospect, precisely what the fuck was going on here. Was I just super grumpy? Yeah, probably. Did I stick with some incoherent rapper shit just because I liked the rhyme? Also highly probable. In reality, of course, booking shows is hella easy and playing them is awesome.
...we either bitch and complain or live with the pain
...you either fix our mistakes or give in and wait
I flipped my script from cynical hate to Infinite Grace
I know my life is slipping away, that’s why I’m living today
You know what? I don’t know, either. Am I reprising the Oprah mockery with a sarcastic, Reverend Run Wisdom level inspirational speech that you should hate yourself for taking seriously? Or can I overcome my own reflexive cynicism and actually give people good life advice despite myself? Stay tuned!
Many fuzzy nothings have been written about how great cats and dogs have it, but you know how it is out here in the civilized world. People talk a lot about world peace and protecting children, too. People don’t want to think too much about whether their pet animals have affection for them or just conditioned responses, but you have to wonder, right? How many thousands of years has their beautiful holographic DNA heritage been primarily shaped by human captivity now? Furthermore, why is everything on this planet so fucking ugly when you spend any time thinking about it? I mean....fuck.
Maybe language is the problem; maybe we’re sick. Maybe you should change how you come home at night. Maybe you should take off your shoes and any heavy clothing and get down on the floor—all of you, as much as possible. Maybe you will come to find that involves laying down, getting down on a level playing field with your pet animals—your cats, really, because I don’t care about your dogs, folks—get down with your cats and hang out with them. Get down off your feet and stop thinking.
Of course it’s contrived, of course it’s pointless, but those are exactly the sick, civilized thoughts you need to try and let go of. Maybe you have dishes to do, maybe your roomates fucked up something trivial and enraging since you were gone, but those are exactly the mundane, domesticated loops you need to turn off, just for two or three sweet minutes. Maybe it’s possible to think of nothing except what you’re actually experiencing, breathing in your perfect broken body and lying on the floor with your cats. Maybe it’s even easy.
Of course it can’t last, but that’s not the point, not today. It can be cultivated, it can be touched. It’s not a hippie fantasy, it’s not remotely religious, and it’s not something I can make a rap song about, neither...although I do keep trying. And I keep forgetting, too, but I’m guessing you can relate to that much. I am often stunned, paralyzed, by the extent of brain damage and ritual madness that passes for human culture. I don’t know how else to put it: almost 200 little governments, all batshit insane, dangerously inept, and lost in idiot feedback loops of their own doctrine and propaganda, from North Korea to whatever the hell passes for Valhalla in Tampa Bay these days. It would be funny if they didn’t, you know, keep killing people.
That’s a horrible fact, but shit, most of them are. And they’re all gonna be there for awhile, too. Emotions are brutal, but they wash over us. Our thoughts are way more persistent and harder to shake. They are also rat bastard traitors, but I’m guessing that’s not news to any of you. I could throw in a billion more references and ideas here—STEM CELL BACON #DAUG COME ON—but that’s all gotta go, too. Tonight, now, as soon as possible.
I am grateful to live with an animal who never lets me forget she has deep, abiding beef with the human race. When I thump myself unto the floor, this critter sees things very simply: she has been handed a valuable opening and must move immediately. Teeth, claws, fur, laughter. This is, all things considered, probably better than meditation.
Mundane tasks await. My roomate hasn’t cleaned up his own puke for 48 hours now, but it’s cool, I love him. My track record is not stellar, either. I was curious to see how long it would go, that was obviously a mistake and I’m hitting the bleach once I get this little ditty finished up. I can’t help but think that a smarter animal just would have left.
Get your wilderness in whenever and wherever you can. The world needs you strong and the world needs you feral.
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People, mostly perfect strangers on the internets, have been asking me for a solid decade now why I’m not into Ron Paul. Boring question. Let’s begin with the reason why I would kill people if I was the President and why, realistically, you would, too. It’s also the reason I take Ron Paul’s campaign pledges about as seriously as I do Rick Santorum’s collection of trophy children.
Let’s assume that Ron Paul is a man of his word—that’s easy for me, because I don’t actually doubt him on most matters. I don’t think he’s an NWO shill, but then again, I also don’t think it’s strange that he’s not forthcoming about his Masonic connections. In many lodges, that’s SOP, and since we’re on the cusp of a second round of Dark Ages for crackers everywhere, I would recommend that more “Free”Masons follow suit and STFU altogether. Anyways, let’s assume that—shocker—someone from Texas with Masonic connections and big money backers actually got elected President, with the patriotic libertarian help of We The People.
Let’s assume that Ron Paul Ends the Fed, and China very nearly dies laughing in delighted awe that someone they spent decades slowly poisoning would decide to just jump off a building one morning. That’s a metaphor, in which the thin but viscous layer of loose intestines and organ shards getting hosed off the city streets while the cops redirect traffic stands for the US dollar’s short term fate in a global economy. And it’s not even the point.
Here’s the point: Let’s assume Ron Paul Ends The War. That’s great, Ron. Show me some photos of your grandkids. Tell me again about how you never read your own newsletters. Cool, now let me ask you something: What in the sweet almighty fuck do you, or any of your fans, think you’re actually talking about?
Heavy Weighs the Crown, Motherfuckers
Just so you’re clear on where I stand, though: breathe.
End the War on Drugs? Oh you mean the war on black and latino people they expanded to include poor whites because it was so profitable and just plain fun? I am all for ending that, yesterday, decades overdue, immediate amnesty for all federal drug war prisoners, too. I rap about that shit at shows daug I’m with you.
End the War on Terror? Oh you mean that racket where the FBI and NYPD set up borderline retarded people with criminal records and zero life skills, create and simulate an entire actual terrorist plot, and then bust them for easy headlines and fast-tracked promotions? Yeah, that horseshit is getting really old and it’s not like even the average dumbfuck is really buying it in 2012. That’s just the tip of a hack cliche iceberg, and that iceberg just the domestic stuff.
And that....that is the problem. See, Ron Paul can End the War but there are many millions of people who will not respect that legislation. Many of those millions view the US as an adversary and target, and many of those millions will be men and women in the Pentagon and the private sector who carry on their mission through other means. Worse, though, there is no safe way to wind down a global empire. We—“we” as in the collective citizens of the US who have mostly never been consulted much about foreign policy—we will be fair game for decades to come. When you’ve been playing King of the Hill and punching everyone in the face to hold the top for an hour, nobody lets you just walk back down when you decide you’re done. What that shitty metaphor equates to is dead American citizens, and if you’re callous enough to be cool with that, or view it as somehow justified, why the fuck are you angry about anything?
Odds are, though, you do see dead American citizens as a serious problem, and so indeed will Ron Paul. The US Liberal Lamestream Media made a lot of farm noise about how the average poor Agfhani male just didn’t understand why the US was there. The reality is that they don’t fucking care and never will: all they will ever care about is what we’re actually doing, which is killing innocent people.
Because that is what happens in a war.
And that is why wars are fucking stupid.
But tell me Ron Paul is going to put up with Marines dying in Lebanon. Tell that Ron Paul will stand down the audience when he defends his policy of non-interference in the face of the next terrorist attack, when Israel is using their media machine to blame Iran for it around the clock. Tell me that any president, living or dead, past or future, is going to stick to his guns when his guns are mere words in the face of events like...well, stay tuned.
We are locked into a global cycle of violence that is over a century long. Thinking that will change in one or two terms is not magical thinking because magic actually happens—so the only accurate description you’re left with is, well...it’s not very nice. Let’s just say I think you’re all pretty fucking stupid.
So...But No, Wait a Second
Q: So who do you recommend we vote for? A: Whoever you believe in—if you don’t believe in anyone, run yourself—if you won’t do that, why do you care enough to ask that question? #WHALAM
Q: So you’re just saying that we have to be at war forever? A: No, of course not. I’m only saying that we will be at war forever. War is over if you want it to be—it’s true, and John Lennon got killed for gems like that. #WHALAM
Q: Don’t you agree that any steps taken towards scaling down the US empire are better than attempting to perpetuate a doomed neoconservative 1000 year reich? A: Absolutely, but it has to happen in cooperation with the stakeholders otherwise we’re just stabbing our troops in the back all over again—stop viewing everything you don’t undestand as the The Enemy—accept responsibility as a stakeholder in this Empire and learn to negotiate with the other sharks in the tank. #WHALAM
Q: Doesn’t this hit piece completely denigrate & discredit the intellectual work and impressive voting record that constitutes Ron Paul’s long career? A: No, that was already accomplished with devastating efficiency by his son, Rand Paul #WHALAM
Q: Nice try, smart guy, but the US Constitution clearly states that ________. A: Have you been paying any attention to US history post-1791? You might as well be quoting the Bible, homey. #WHALAM
Q: But at the end of the day, isn’t Ron better than the status quo? A: No. I believe in improving the status quo, I don’t believe in pulling the plug and quoting Atlas Shrugged at the survivors who show up at my property line. At the end of the day, I’ll take a cynical realist like Obama over a would-be reformist like Ron Paul, Ralph Nader, Newt Gingrich or Al Gore. #WHALAM
At the end of the day, y’all should just admit that Uncle Hump should be running your country. Who the fuck else do you have?
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