According to sources who heard the song, “Accidental Homosexual,” is about a passionate one-night stand involving two men, one of whom is drunk and bears a striking resemblance to Brad Paisley.

“I reflected on it some, and realized there was no way I could release a song like that without making it look like I am really, really gay,” Paisley said.

The post Brad Paisley to Shelve ‘Accidental Homosexual’ Project appeared first on The Faster Times.

Appropriately, Ross told AllHipHop.com that “motion picture master piece is the vibe of God Forgives, I Don’t.” This analogy is most appropriate to the cinematic beats provided in great part by genius production team, J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League. The first five songs on God Forgives, I Don’t are undeniably the album’s highlights, with the final two tracks of the five, “Maybach Music IV” (feat. Ne-Yo), and “Sixteen” (feat. André 3000) featuring production by J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League. Following the first five, there’s a block of four hood tracks, followed by four RnB tracks, and then the finale, “Ten Jesus Pieces,” also produced by J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League. Rick Ross is a consistent and entertaining rapper, but his producers deserve just as much credit. A great part of Ross’ skill as a businessman is he bought several A-list beats for his album, and it shows. Even though Rick Ross isn’t really an innovative rapper when it comes to wordplay, his persona shines through his gravely voice and makes his music worth listening to.

The real crowning achievement of the album is the song “Sixteen” feat. Andre 3000. The message of the song, the fact that a rapper has a limited amount of bars to express himself in, is an interesting message to ponder. As Andre 3000 says, “it’s just a glimpse…just a page.” To think about rap verses as a small window into the universe of a rapper’s reality shows how lyrics are more integral to the genre of rap than other musical genres. The best line on the album is actually when Andre 3000 observes that “something tells me we ain’t in Kansas anymore.” It’s one of the best things I’ve heard said about the times we live in. The other two main highlights for me were “Pirates” and “Ashamed.” Cool and Dre’s production on the latter beat is a reminder of the greatness they once achieved with Game and 50 Cent’s “Hate It Or Love It” It’s worth noting that two out of the three best tracks on God Forgives, I Don’t are tracks that feature Ross alone. I really think as great as the guests are on this album that next time Ross should pull a Jay-Z and release an album with no features like Game is planning to with his fifth album. As awesome as it is to hear Ross in between verses from Dr. Dre and Jay-Z in 3 Kings, Rick Ross doesn’t need anyone else to bring out the best in him. That’s a sign of a truly great rapper, one who can hold a track down all by themselves.

As much as I absolutely love the first five songs, I’m not as crazy about the rest of the album. The hood tracks and RnB tracks are alright, but I think that God Forgives I Don’t is one third masterpiece, two-thirds decent mainstream rap record. Here’s a track-by-track breakdown of the album:

Rick Ross God Forgives I Don’t 71/100 1. Pray For Us (Intro) 2. Pirates 9.5/10 3. 3 Kings ft. Dre and Jay-Z 8.5/10 4. Ashamed 9.5/10 5. Maybach Music IV ft. Ne-Yo 8/10 6. Sixteen Ft. Andre 3000 9.5/10 7. Amsterdam 7/10 8. Hold Me Back 5/10 9. 911 5/10 10. So Sophisticated ft. Meek Mill 5/10 11. Presidential ft. Elijah Blake 6/10 12. Ice Cold ft. Omarion 6/10 13. Touch’n You ft. Usher 6/10 14. Diced Pineapples ft. Wale and Drake 7.5/10 15. Ten Jesus Pieces ft. Stalley 7/10

If you think rap isn’t great anymore, I highly recommend you get this album and listen to the first few tracks. It’s not a classic, but it does have classic tracks, and that’s better than most albums that come out today, regardless of genre. I have a feeling Rick Ross is only going to get better. The singles he released from the hood and RnB portions of the album haven’t done that well, and I think “3 Kings” which got the most general media buzz of any track is the direction Ross needs to go in. Cinematic soul beats, and strictly A-list guests if any. Listen to the album and tell me what you think in the comments. Highlights: “Pirates, Ashamed, Sixteen”

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The best thing for hip-hop and the Old Guard right now would be a consolidation of power. G-Unit, D-Block, and Dipset should join to become one entity. Then, and only then, does the Old Guard have a chance to compete with conglomerates like Young Money and Maybach Music Group.

Lloyd Banks’ V6 is a victory for the Old Guard, but Banks is still capable of much better. I think a big part of why G-Unit needs to consolidate with D-Block and Dipset is so they have a chance at putting out records where every track is an A-list beat. That’s the advantage that Young Money and Maybach Music Group have. I also think Banks having soul sampled tracks on V6 is a good sign. Hip-hop needs to start sampling soul again. Overall, V6 is a good mixtape. Download it. At the same time, if you don’t have the classic four mixtapes mentioned earlier in this article, get those first, and then you’ll see why Lloyd Banks and G-Unit deserve to be considered part of the true golden age of hip-hop.

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-What’s it about bro?

-Well, I don’t want to give it away, but it has Henry Kissinger on a golf cart, and a giant statue of an Owl.

-Woah.

-Yeah just watch it, trust me. It’ll blow your mind. Oh, and after Wikipedia ‘Moloch’:

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When I heard about Jeremy Lin I was intrigued. I thought like I’m sure many other people did that it was awesome a Chinese guy was great at NBA-level basketball and didn’t have to be Yao Ming tall. However, as soon as my eyes caught their first glimpse of that bastard word, Linsanity, or perhaps one of its macabre permutations, the large black woman that lives in a duplex on the West Side of my soul cried out in a stereotypically offensive voice, “Oh no you didn’t!” The Charlie Sheen phenomenon turned me off to entertainment news, but the popularity, nay, the propagation of the word Linsanity made me realize all the news “smells like poo poo poo,” to quote Andre 3000. There is nothing better than a great pun, but there is also nothing worse than a bad one. It’s almost like the difference between great sex and rape. Yes, I truly believe the spectrum runs that wide. For example, Jeremy Lin is about to succeed the Ming dynasty in Houston. That should be really offensive, but it actually points to a glorious time in the history of a civilization that had writing 1200 years before Christ, when Europeans were still swinging from trees.

When you break down “Linsanity” what is it exactly? What is insane here? That a regular Chinese guy is really good at basketball at the U.S. professional level? I think “cool” would be a better word to describe that than “insane.” I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but I think the only thing insane here is that paid journalists use made-up words to generate web traffic and drive ad revenue. As I fade to black on that note, I’ll leave you with three maxims:

Screw the Knicks. Screw bad puns. Go Jeremy Lin.

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I begin to scroll down the first page of search results, but after a few somber articles about the Taliban, I fall down a rabbit hole out of which I may never return. I see the following in the description of a website: “Taliban Sexually Assualt US Reporter, Teen Sex and Hardcore Sex Videos, Mom and Boy Videos, Free Sex Tapes and a lot more SeXXX Videos!” Okay, let that one sit for a second. Stir it a bit. Alright, now let’s examine the ramifications of what this means. First of all, obviously a robot, right? Okay, that should make me feel better, but then how did the five words Taliban Sexually Assault US Reporter get strung together? Did a robot come up with this on it’s own? In it’s apparent randomness of ones and zeroes did a computer become more creatively perverted than human beings? That’s just too frightening to think about, even if it’s just the description in a harmless porn-virus site. Another possibility that gives me some hope is that at some point this was a legitimate news story that got absorbed into the gridded abyss of porn-virus, and regurgitated back into my search results.

I google Taliban Sexually Assault US Reporter and for a brief moment of hope, albeit the darkest one I may ever have, I see this is a real news article, that a reporter named Lara Logan was sexually assaulted, and for a split-second the internet gets slightly less weird. Then I see it happened in Egypt. That damned Jeopardy buzzer in my head beeps again, and before I even have time to recover I get hit with another revelation: I forgot to put Taliban Sexually Assault US Reporter in quotations. When I do the plot thickens, as I see three lone results all with the following description: “Title: Taliban Sexually Assault US Reporter. Description: In the wrong country at the wrong time. Views: 2365. Tags: free mommy porn porn.” Before I can even contemplate the poetry of, “free mommy porn porn,” my focus shifts to the disturbing tagline, and then locks in on the absurd amount of views. It has to all be lies. There’s just no way over 2,000 human beings clicked a url with random numbers and letters. People are dumb, but not that dumb. Then I draw the most logical conclusion from the whole thing: it’s all old people who don’t know how to use the internet, but inexplicably understand quoted Google searches, who happen to have a very specific post-9/11 sexual fetish. I drop the conclusion just as fast, having learned at my prestigious private high school that the obvious answer is always and most definitely the wrong one. Occam’s Razor Scooter. So, accordingly, I jump on that scooter and glide right to the drawn-out conclusion of this investigation.

Machines must have done this. There’s no way someone successfully taped a Taliban member sexually assaulting a US reporter. Unless, of course, there’s a member of the Taliban who has an iPhone, which is probably true, totally weird, and something we’ll explore another time. For now though, I think it’s safe to say this whole thing is the work of computers. What does this mean? There’s a whole universe of porn-virus that exists in the virtual space of the internet, links never clicked, roads never taken. Is it just a world of viruses that lies behind the veil, or something more, something even weirder? What actually creates porn-virus sites and how did this whole thing even start? These are questions that may never be answered. At the same time though they may be easier questions to answer than a simple question that is now dying out. Several years ago my wonderfully old country Jewish grandmother, 88 years old at the time, rest in peace, looks at me innocently enough and asks, “Sam, what’s the Internet?” I tried as hard as I could to just explain the basic concept of different pages, but now, in this glorious year of our lord, 2012, a year marked by some cockamamie apocalypse prediction, I am reevaluating my grandmother’s question. What is the internet? Sure, we all use it, but can we explain exactly how it works? Let’s start with this line of reasoning. If something exists physically it takes up space. If something exists mentally it exists in our minds. The internet neither exists physically nor mentally. It does not physically exist because we cannot touch it. We touch computers, but the internet exists outside of computers. The internet does not exist mentally, because it is outside of our minds, but it is a product of our minds, something we are all plugged into that we use to retrieve and disseminate information. It appears then that the internet is actually a metaphysical realization of our collective consciousness, minds interfacing strictly with the information contained in other minds. Could it be that we’ve brought to life Jung’s theory with this crazy internet thing? We can all agree that the internet is a pretty Jung thing, in it’s infancy, probably in one of those Freudian stages that correspond to the types of sex people have. That’s cool and all, but if it’s just a baby now, and it thought up Taliban Sexually Assault US Reporter all by it’s little baby self, then, my friends, what will it think of by itself when it grows up and becomes an adult? Or even worse…what happens when it hits 6th grade?

Tune in next week for another frightening episode of: Real Life

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Now you may think that we’ve come a long way breaking barriers. I mean, we elected a black guy who openly appreciates Bruce Springsteen. Where do you even find a black guy that listens to Bruce Springsteen? America is a beautiful place, I’ll tell you that. Too beautiful to elect a president named after baseball equipment.

I’ll never have a president named Mitt because it will inevitably lead to much worse things. People say a sign society is falling apart is the widespread acceptance of gay marriage. No. Electing a President Mitt is an attack on the sacred institution of names. Where’s family values when you really need them? I actually hear they’re cheating on moral and ethics with hatred and bigotry. Threesomes. What can you do?

I just had a shocking revelation. Mitt’s real name is Willard. Wow. Who would have known with such a cool nickname his real name would be so old fashioned? It’s like finding out Snoop Dogg’s real name is Calvin Broadus. I’m still seeing my therapist about that one.

Willard Romney. You just know that a person with that name has no idea what the concept of fun is. Do we need a fun president? Yes, Bill Clinton was the most fun president we’ve ever had, and look how much the 90s ruled. I mean, Bill did Monica proper, and Chandler never even found out! I miss Friends.

The whole Mitt Romney dog thing? So messed up. However, it’d be totally okay if he did it to a cat, preferably a “funny” one from the “Internet.”

I’ll never have a president, birth name Willard, why? Because we already had one president named Woodrow, and everybody knows he was way better as Tom Hanks co-star in Cast Away.

At the end of the day though, there is one plausible scenario in which I would have a President Mitt, one where Mitt Romney fuses together with Barack Obama to become Rom Bam, incidentally the name of the preeminent medieval Jewish philosopher. Cosmic.

Come November I’m not voting for a guy named Mitt. I’m also not voting for a guy named Barack, even though he has a cool name. No folks, I’m going to write-in the only candidate with the experience needed to pull out immediately: Ron Jeremy.

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More than anything Deadmau5′ “The Veldt” is hopeful. It’s not just the informed social commentary of the lyrics, but the chord progression itself sounds filled with hope. It’s a sound that says even though the world is crazy and totally electronic now, there is still a collective young soul of humanity that is dying to break out from our chains. Thank God for artists like Deadmau5. I think the only comparable song to “The Veldt” is The Beatles’ “All You Need Is Love.” Both songs really say everything that needs to be said. What’s so unique about “The Veldt” though is that instead of simply communicating a message, it points to the future. Please, I implore you, listen to “The Veldt” and you too will get the feeling that good things are coming soon. This is a song that makes me believe the best is yet to come. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.

I should also say that I am pretty out of touch with today’s electronic music. I generally listen to The Beatles, disco, 80s R&B, and 70s African funk. Although I’m also a songwriter currently trying to write today’s pop music, I’ll be the first to admit that it’s technologically advanced animal music. It’s all just about having sex and getting wasted. Not Deadmau5. I’m not familiar with today’s electronic concerts and festivals where I’m sure there’s plenty of drugs and sex, but even though I’ve yet to go to one, I think there’s way more to it than having a good time. Deadmau5′ “The Veldt” is the first song I’ve heard that makes me want to dance and pick up a book at the same time. That my friends is exactly what we need right now: education with energy. Thank you Deadmau5. Thank you Ray Bradbury. I truly believe that the potential for music to change the planet into the utopia we should be will be realized in my lifetime. Peace and love.

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I’m imagining Obama flying a drone over Waziristan, and dropping a bomb on some stock bad guys. Keep the change. Now I know the point of drones is you can’t fly them, but the best case scenario for American foreign and domestic policy right now is that Obama is Will Smith in Independence Day, only the mothership is actually our individual houses, and he’s trying to enter the chalice of our privacy to save the human race. Righteous, yea, but the action of the world stage doth not compare to the heights of sublime drama conveyed in Tom Cruise’s divorce. Watching a tabloid divorce unfold over weekly trips to the supermarket is like America’s 21st century version of the serialized novel, but with pictures of people, and they’re hot.

Fake? Everything is fake these days. We have everything from fake crabmeat to fake breasts, what’s the big deal with a fake birth certificate? I mean, who even knows where their birth certificate is? I remember my birth certificate was torn as a child for some reason, and I wondered if it meant I had ceased to exist. I wonder if this is what Obama’s going through right now. He has people left and right attacking him, and he doesn’t even know if he’s real or not. The only thing more dangerous than a United States President in an existential crisis is one without the proper reading material. Kissinger gave Nixon a copy of No Exit at a CFR meeting and the rest is Vietman, so they say.

Arpaio is under investigation. Wait, but isn’t he also part of an investigation? Woah. Well, aren’t we all like under one big investigation? We’re just running around investigating each other, when we’re actually all being investigated? It certainly makes masturbation more like Facebook. Thank God for Facebook.

Why is Tom Cruise’s love-life more important than Barack Obama’s fake birth certificate? It’s simple really. You see, we humans, we like creating things, babies and such, but while we do enjoy creation we absolutely revel in destruction. You know that social phenomenon when traffic slows because everybody’s looking at an accident? That’s the darkest part of human nature. It’s not us running around killing each other. We’ve evolved past that. It’s us watching accidents, and if it’s not an accident, it’s a celebrity divorce, or a sensational media trial. When it comes down to it we as human beings love watching other human beings suffer. It’s not an active love where people openly relish others’ misfortunes, but tragedy being the ultimate form of entertainment is something we as humans need to think about, and then correct. At least add more comedy. If I died tomorrow and God asked me what I learned this time, I would say the one thing about humans that stands out more than anything is that we really love watching each other. The question of the 21st century is how we handle watching ourselves.

BREAKING NEWS: This is much much bigger than Obama’s birth certificate.

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Divorce makes sense. Two people fall out of love. It happens. Just because people are celebrities people care about their love lives, when I’m sure what actors and actresses would really like people to care about is their work. I care about Katie Holmes’ work, specifically her role in the film Jack and Jill. What was she doing there? Sandler must have paid her a ridiculous amount of money. If you’re one of the few people who have actually seen Jack and Jill, it’s clear Adam Sandler has gone completely insane. You can’t explain a script like that logically, and Katie Holmes role as Sandler’s wife who sticks up for Sandler being obnoxious in drag has got to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in a movie. I actually haven’t seen Katie Holmes in another movie, and what am I supposed to think now? Granted no shot of her looking bewildered and out of place was as haunting as Tom Cruise’s fat suit dance in Tropic Thunder, but who said marriage had to be about equality?

We shouldn’t be criticizing actors and actresses like Katie Holmes for their marriages and divorces. We should be criticizing them for their movies.

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