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100 Entries and 1 Exit

January 7, 2010

This is my hundredth post, which would be less impressive if I were a fence.

And I’m moving today. Leaving all minus two regular suitcases’ plus one cat suitcase’s worth of my accumulated riches in a storage closet and heading to the airport. What’s going to happen? (I don’t mean at the airport, I mean in general. We all know what’s going to happen at the airport. Two words: extra patdown.)

Stellar timing, Zeus. Well played.

To those looking for a selection of Jay-Z Blueprint 3 excerpts to tie up all the loose ends, I of course have to tongue-in-cheekily reassure my homeboys and -girls with the unintentionally Iliadic I’ll be alive / For a million years. Bye-byes / Are not for legends. I’m forever young. / My name shall survive. (Surely that passage warrants at least a footnote in your next Indo-European throwdown, Dr. Watkins?) And to the Big V: I keep doin’ my own thing, / Walkin’ tall against the rain / …Only thing that’s on my mind / Is who’s gonna run this town tonight. And, somewhat apologetically, to all the departments and employers of the past ten years: I don’t get dropped: / I drop the label. / World can’t hold me. / Too much ambition.

Lastly but not leastly, it would be unforgivable not to end this post with some words of wisdom from the most memorably epic-hexametrically metric track in gangsta rap history: Niggas, don’t be mad, ’cause it’s all ’bout progression. / Loiterers should be arrested.

On to the next one…

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