It's time for a little honesty, America, because there's far too little of it in this age of low-carb diets and genital shaving. Anyone with a home delivery subscription to The New York Times knows that I'm always eager take up a cause. There's my work on the environment, education, charity, fairness, and good, not to mention not-hunger and not-sick, but I'm especially fond of fighting for the freedom of incarcerated rappers. Of these fights, my battle for Slick Rick's freedom is the closest to my heart.

Since 1984 I've been waging a figurative and literal war against the powers that be -- sending them strongly worded letters soaked in stink bomb juice, shooting at them, and flashing my penis at their families. Today, it appears that I've won that war. Slick Rick will taste the tasty air of freedom when he breathes it.

Except now I find out he shot a couple of guys. That bit of info makes this moment more than a little bit bittersweet, let me tell you. I mean, fuck, you know?

Analogcabin @ 10:57 AM
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