Humpjones

An Interview with the Singular Louis Mackey

Posted Aug 05, 2007 3 comments

With a picture like that, does the man really need an introduction? Apparently the answer is yes: Louis Mackey is, as you shall soon find out for yourself, a legitimately dangerous mind.  An anarchist who is far too smart for his own good, and totally devoid of sympathy for those slower and weaker than himself.  Maybe I made that last part up, but it could be true just the same.  If you’re interested in checking out his music—he makes an average 3-5 tracks per day this summer—should check out his website. LET’S BEGIN:

How are you fighting the tide of mediocrity, Louis Mackey?

Notwithstanding the medicinal, habitual use of narcotics and alcohol, I’d have to say mediocrity is the main component of what drives me to excel, destroy and rebuild. Before I could muse off my taste of paradise, though only for what seemed like an instant, but she’s gone; she was the best muse I’ve ever had. Although, I’m slowly tapping into that resource, among others, with just as much fervor as before. The so called “elites” in my hometown, either those passing through on tours or your local jester, afford little to no inspiration to improve. I fight the tide of mediocrity by always being 450 steps ahead, as I like to say. Like, “Oh you have a multisyllabic rhyme with more metaphorical meaning than Atlas Shrugged? Well, I’ve got an entire concept album nobody’s heard and I’m willing to bet my scholarship 99 out of 100 people think its better in every facet.”

While you are asleep, I’m up. While you go out and get hammered, I stay, write, record, create, idealize and get hammered. Work ethic is the age old secret and nobody can argue with that. However, there comes a point when work ethic reaches obsession. It is called obsession namely by those outside my sphere of influence and who cannot respect the modus operandi to which I strictly adhere. 

Can you recommend any good drugs, books, or liqour?

Man, that whiskey we had was some next level shit and I cannot for the life of me remember its name. Perhaps you could? [W.L. Weller—damn it was good.]

I’d start off our reader with the classics. I tend to gravitate to idealism, therefore anything I prescribe after the classics is going to be some worldly idealistic writing that has come to nominated as “ancient history” to much of this judeo-christianized culture of skullfuckery. I’d say, examine the pessimistic literary side of the human race’s intellectuals. Even though I find little to no epical integrity in much of what a nah-sayer, a cynic, a misanthrope or a pessimist may write, it is nonetheless worth, however minimally, acknowledging. The cynical author finds his optimism in believing that he is the one who sees the world more lucidly.  Thus, popular society concordantly labels him the pessimist.  Take advantage of them both.

Do you think there’s a thin line between high energy and psychosis?

To answer this question I revert back to my response to question A. To those outside your personal paradigm, or modus operandi to get all scholarly, you may seem like a blithering lunatic. I have been for some time now a strong believer in the transcendentalist mantra of self-reliance; that true genius lies in trusting one’s self. We’ve come, practically just yesterday in scientific history, to uncover the idea of relativity. High energy and insanity are but names readily transferable and delegated by a set of agreed upon abstract ideas by a group. If you do what boats your serotonin, and you do it in excess, or rather what the popular sentiment of in excess is, let them call it what they may. I think its funny how quick we are to write some off as psychotic.

Let’s talk porn kittens.  who is your post-fame top five?

Avena Lee, Christine Young, Carmen Luvana, Lady Sonia, Jenna Haze.

What is your drug of choice, your weapon of choice, and your zodiac sign?

Coffee. I know everyone probably thinks this but I actually truly, manifestly know it: “a few cups of coffee sends me to the next tier, the one above yours”. I don’t use any other drugs, really, well, besides alcohol.

As for my weapon of choice, I would saying flying guillotines but then that would just be blatantly biting. Those who know me know what we do when we drink whiskey at my house; mainly, what we do after we finish each bottle. I set the fifth on the coffee table and unsheathe my roommate’s TPX Louisville Slugger and give the fucker a golden bear golf. Ask anyone who knows me personally, its tradition at my house to do this after completing the bottle. It all started when I was attempting to show Uncle Duke what I was going to do to the hip hop competition (and after you and buddy knuckle down on a fifth of evan, clean polish it off, your aptitude for elocution becomes a little more practical and lot less eloquent). And I usually get around to picking up the shards during the week. But yeah, if WAR were featured in some type of martial arts video game my weapon would surely be an aluminum baseball bat

I’m a Libra and I fit the astrological implications of this zodiac to the tee. Both the negative and positive descriptions of individuals born under this constellation correlate to me perfectly.

Do you think human music evolved before human language or vice versa?

Going out on a thin branch here I am going to cast my vote with music. Now it’s a very slippery slope when you consider what language is, whether it be grunts and groans or articulate communication. My intuition tells me the deep rhythm of the cosmos probably predates coherent, systematic communication, even among humans. But you know, I’m probably totally incorrect.

At the end of the day, are we all just rapping to get laid?

There’s nothing wrong with that sentiment except a small syntactical error. When you incorporate the word ‘just’ you’ve got problem. And of course that’s always the case when you examine absolute statements.  Psychologically, I think it’s correct that most of our actions are, in effect, done for the reward of approval. This could be from friends, women, family, etc. Getting laid, well fuck, that’s the ultimate seal of approval. Think about it; I want you inside me because you are that DOPE. Hell yes, I want to be inside you because I am that dope. I don’t know certainly know. I’ve never been laid cheifly because I’m insanely talented, then again, I haven’t done a lot of shows in venues where hip hop is the most appreciated genre. Hopping out of my underoos and into bed with a beautiful woman is definitely an integral part of my existence and it surely plays a part, however subtlety, as to why I write.

What do you want to try and leave behind as a legacy?

It’s sad to come to the realization that so many will be forgotten. Additionally, its sadistically funny to see how many people think they’re important enough to leave behind a legacy. “Every hero becomes a bore at last”, says the sage. Don’t get me wrong I’ve thought about this question before and I do have answer. I want my genuine actions to speak for themselves. At 21 years old I have an illimitable foreground ahead of me. I don’t feel I’m at liberty to surmise which legacy, if any, I am going to leave after I’ve departed.

Do you think it’s ethical to get as many women pregnant as you possibly can?

When humans were much more self-sufficient, yeah. Oddly enough, we’ve lost our aboriginal strength despite all our advances in knowledge. Of course this question’s answer is dependent on way too many contingencies to positively or negatively come to an ultimate conclusion. As for fucking, man, fuck like jack rabbits, hell yeah.

FOR THE RECORD: Louis was actually correct about music evolving before language.  Music is a tool that many species use to attract mates, and music is shaped by sexual selection.  This creates a weird slippery zone: how is music not language?  If animals communicate using music, can we really claim those species do not possess language?  Anyways, for anyone interested in this material, then start here.  You should be interested, because if you’re not, that’s just one more thing Louis Mackey knows that you don’t, and when he comes for you, you’ll wish you paid more attention to reality, human.

Filed in: The Music

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