SleepingSilence

Music Appreciation Thread

Oh dear. Okay, I've just never been a fan of this kind of rap.

"N*gga" word count: 34 times, or roughly 5 percent of all total words in the verses.

Even if I disagree with a message, if you're going to make a song about oppression and appropriation, typical lines like "Bitches leave n*ggas for cunnilingus, Fuck me like her n*gga non-existent." really make seem as hollow as it likely is...

The beat is too minimalist and repetitive for me to really enjoy or relax to it. (the lyrics also don't match/help make it any kind of soothing hum worthy experience.) But I get it was clearly meant to be uncomfortable, matching the video's tone in the chorus of him being hung. The "chorus" is simple, but effectively unnerving. I won't deny both rappers had flow, though having some wordplay here and there. Rhyming n*gga with itself four times, needs to stop being such a cornerstone that prevails in this particular genre. 4/10

(Well this isn't exactly a lyrical masterpiece. But it's very fun, there's not enough music like this.)

RPGC #15: New Beginnings - Prompt and Entries

Story Wordcount: 966 words. Haha, I'm one of the first people to actually properly follow the prompt. My victory is assured.

I kid. Didn't do it to compete. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to kill some time and get my writing brain flowing. Hopefully whoever reads, enjoys it. PM me if you happened to have anything particular to say about it, whether positive or critique. Unlike most, I won't bite your head off.

My Own Prompt Synopsis.

Ellis Wright is a passionate graveyard keeper, whose a staunch believer there's no afterlife, once a poor miscreant that was caught desecrating this graveyard. He was given the job by an older man, who was a priest who had nobody and forgot his own name, that recently passed away and was buried in the very same graveyard. He learned there was a reason to respect the dead, leaving them to rest and realizing he wanted something important written on his gravestone. In the end, he stops another rowdy teen repeating his mistake, offering him a job.

Etching Ellis's Stone

Life was like flowers laid beside a gravestone. The surface level smile you put on daily, embellishing bleakness that eventually withers without support and dies. Amidst a sunrise shining like a heavenly glow, through the yew trees where a young man kneeled in dirt for the hundredth time, but never to pray. Picking up another assortment of no longer pink carnations, meticulously dusting off the stone slab with a whisk broom, revealing the etchings, “Rachel Wright. Precious Daughter, 1962-1966” in-between both her parent’s graves ending the following year.

“I suppose Wright’s were always accustomed to the wrong side of fortune...” The young man lamented. Standing up, rubbing the dirt off on his shabby slacks. Stepping in a slow careful circular motion, scanning the surrounding amassed gravestones, eyes glued to the recently trimmed grass and his dyed green work boots. His exhaled breath, like smoke from yesterday’s final cigarette. Pulling some nicotine gum from his upper-left shirt pocket and popping it into his mouth. A sour cinnamon flavor assaulted his tongue, face twisting into a grimace and letting out a quick gagging sound, restraining himself from spitting it out.

“I’m just getting a peppermint flavor next time...” He muttered aloud, fully zipping up his windbreaker, walking off to reexamine hours of his continuous work.

Noticing one of the Sunday regular’s, a widow that’s lived decades longer, wearing a Renaissance widow dress, approaching a weeping angel statue, collapsing to the ground and letting out anguished cries, beneath a rainbow off in the distance towards the city. He smiled seeing their similarities, her tears like a ceaseless rain, reminiscing their moments together. Until leaving beautiful colors behind, showing those who believe watch over them, that they mattered. Continuing his casual walk, until reaching a tall catholic cross gravestone all by its lonesome. Completely dateless and nameless, with only etchings carved by himself. “Someone Remembered.”

“Her husband was a lucky man, but so am I. I might have ignored my parents until it was too late, but Father, you truly raised me out of my delinquency...I may never have the same strong belief in god, but you helped me reclaim faith in people. Ones we lost-shouldn’t be forgotten. I suppose-in that sense, there is a life after death...” He choked on his last words, clenching his fists tight, letting his own drops of memories fall from his eyes. “Despite forgetting your name before we met, having no family or friends, you still have someone to remember you. And I’ll keep my promise to respect and maintain, the place where all the lonely rest. Because nobody wants to be completely forgotten.” His last few sentences quoting the surrogate father buried beneath. Feeling a swift breeze coming from the southeast, reaching down and picking up a stray golden leaf tumbling by his feet, turning it around by its stem. Hearing distinct buzzing, glancing in the direction of a bumblebee landing on the leaf he held, leaving as quickly as the following breeze carried the leaf away once he released it from his grasp...

* * *

Underneath the pale moonlight partially shrouded by clouds, the stink coming from his muffler was nearly suffocating, pulling into the driveway and checked the displaying time on the radio, softly playing some classic rock. Turning off and exiting his car with a quick clunk, he returned to his job fifteen minutes early, before his midnight shift. He patted the car’s hood, pulling out a large flashlight.

“You belong here just as much as I do.” He sarcastically thought, switching on the light to illuminate the ground below. Smelling the scent of wet grass, only hearing the sounds of his footsteps hitting gravel approaching the graveyard. He stopped and pulled out an unopened pack of cigarettes, hanging his head low, staring at them within his trembling fingers.

“I wonder what will be etched in my stone? Ellis Wright-was he important enough for anyone to remember?” Sighing at his rhetorical question.

Suddenly, hearing the sounds of a shovel clanging against a gravestone. Ellis’ heartbeat skipped, unconsciously dropping the pack and running off in that direction. Coming across someone wearing a dark grey hoodie, hurling a shovel full of dirt over their shoulder. Ellis rushed up from behind, firmly grabbing their wrist, making them drop the shovel. Turning them around, to see an adolescent's terrified face, frozen stiff, realizing how it nearly reflected how he was caught desecrating the very same graveyard.

“I was t-told this man was buried with a bunch of gold...I m-mean-I-I’m r-really sorry sir! I won’t do it again! I swear!” The teen managed to loudly stammer out, not even pulling his arm away, snot started to drip down from his nose. Ellis gave him a stern look.

“I expect you to spend as long as it takes, repairing any of the damage you done until it’s fixed. Maybe then we can discuss not calling the police. Understand?” The boy seemed awestruck, like it was the kindest thing he had ever been told. Nodding his head fast enough to give someone whiplash, he was released and spent the next several hours fixing the damage he had done, sweating pouring from his forehead and breathing heavily. Waiting in silence, looking up at Ellis, eventually smiling at the boy.

“If you really want some money, how would you like a job under the table? Helping me take care of this graveyard starting tomorrow at 8 a.m sharp.” Ellis said seeing the boy’s agape mouth, raised eyebrows and widened pupils, returning a smile brighter than the stars.

“Yes sir!” The boy exclaimed.

Ellis watched the boy scurry off, heading back to his car, uncertain what would transpire. Perhaps, this was his chance to do something worthy enough to remember, for someone to etch in Ellis’ gravestone...

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

1. All of those are bad news
2. I already said why it was problematic in my first post, meaning there is nothing to really discuss about those things.
3. 'Right' and 'wrong' pertains to us users disagreeing with one another, and there'd be no disagreement up there other than Harbinger and perhaps MDK disagreeing that Trump's statements on Haiti were either real or distasteful.

@POOHEAD189

I wasn't implying snowstorms or the things mentioned were good. :P That idiom refers to the idea that if nothing is heard, you assume nothing is wrong. The news loves the dramatic, so if a Florida man drowned a puppy, you'd best believe the news would be covering it.

I guess I didn't see your first post's explanation. (could of thrown me a bone and quoted it if that's the case.) But you also can't say that's all that's happened in current events, there's plenty of other topics. Though what you stated, was you aren't sure if anything covered in the news anymore had any nuances. Everything the news talks about now, is stuff that -should- be clear good vs bad. And that itself is a problem? (at least that's how the statement you made could be interpreted.)

But the news media never portrayed stories with a gray lens, unless it was actively covering up evil acts. And they've had the same problems of repeating stories, covering a bunch of useless fluff or heavy dramatization. So I don't know what's changed about the news, aside from they're now taken less seriously. Which considering how often their outright wrong. I don't get the problematic angle.

The thing just mentioned about SJW's. My question, is everyone (in the political activist sphere that used to discuss the problems of SJW culture) is now trying to seemingly go a route of purely respectful discourse and disregarding mocking. Basically downplaying how destructive and cancerous they've been as a whole. Like the whole movement has been swept up and disappeared. Or seem to think outrage culture, is no longer a relevant problem. Has all the drama really died down?

Why did H&M have a protester riot group destroy and loot all their stores in South Africa? Other than identity politics?

Doesn't really seem like the "outrage" problem will go away anytime soon...

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Trump stuff, people dying of disease, snow storms. Nothing really controversial or debatable, even if all three are sad.

@POOHEAD189

So simply stating that it's a predictable newsweek then? Not sure what's problematic about that. (Or how it exactly relates to right or wrong. But, we can discuss those things tomorrow, when I'm awake. :P)

You know what they say. No news is good news. ;3

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Yes, because you know just how much I enjoy going round and round with pointless, groundless, absurdist conversation contrary to all understandings of regularly measurable facts, @Dynamo Frokane. You know those are my favorite. Do continue to hold your irrational grudge though, I am sure that will see you far.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity

Now then, to be perfectly reasonable. There's plenty of benefits to blind prejudice, especially those to act respectfully, not questioning your thoughts and behavior, while keeping yourself in a bubble.

Like...

Uh...

...Got nothing actually. Well I mean I have plenty more but nobody needs more of my sarcasm.

Here I try to think of a good topic to discuss but most of what goes on in the news nowadays is stuff that any sane person can say is right or wrong.

Kinda problematic.

@POOHEAD189

To save the overly long statement I was currently writing. Could you clarify exactly what you mean by that?

Explain an Anime Plot Badly

A shounen that puts way more effort into their openings than actually creating anything worth watching.

The Savage And Subservient (SleepingSilence x KatherinWinter)

Bastian had let Elizabeth down before she had answered the question. She appeared frustrated with Elizabeth's answer. The woman’s words cut like a knife. But being headstrong, it only dulled the blade attempting to pierce a solid stone block. “I could have easily fought someone off with my arms tied behind my back! I’m not going to have someone like her make a fool out of me!” Bastian thought briefly glancing at Elizabeth to check her distance from him, clenching his fists and stepping forward with an adamant stomp. Grabbing and drawing his blade halfway out of the strap with his opposite paw. Her reaction speed outpaced his, swiftly lifting her long leg, performing a 180 degree twirl. Holding a small dagger in-between her toes, centimeters away from Bastian’s neck. Before Bastian could even finish pulling out his sword, causing him to cease his actions. Bastian clenched his teeth, retaining a reserved expression, watching the woman smirk.

“Not dumb enough to try fighting an expert in killing dum-dum’s with all brawn and no brains are we?” She chided. Analyzing her eyes reflecting an impending desire for bloodlust, her patience seemed tested by restraining herself from sticking his jugular vein with the dagger. Answering with begrudging silence, Bastian sheathed the sword, clenching the hilt. Rubbing the back of his neck with his other paw, before scratching a sudden itch coming from his chest. She dropped her foot down, letting out her own sigh, prancing over to Elizabeth. Suddenly disrobing, revealing casual street clothing underneath, tossing the extra layer over Elizabeth’s soaked dress. She gave her a warm smile.

“Dum-dum di’ant pak yall spare clothes? Yall cat your death of cold.” The woman spoke with her previously broken dialect, chiding him again for failing to bring extra clothes. Bastian crossed his arms, hardly being able to see anything from inside the gate, being shrouded by fog.

“I would’ve had her change clothes, if whoever transported my wagon would have left my stuff present-” Bastian said.

“Yes, leaven em ya stuff, for bandats to rob ya blind. Smart thought dum-dum.” She interrupted, turning to face Bastian, just understandable enough for Bastian to realize the mocking continued.

“Why did you go back to speaking that way, if you only did that to catch us off guard? How would know anything about my father? Why would he associate himself with one of the assassin’s guilds?” Bastian questioned, crossing his arms. The woman gave him a prolonged glare, before taking the dagger and shoving into the dirt. Watching her meticulously crafting an image within the dirt. Creating another skull similar to before, closing her eyes briefly, the skull on the ground and the tattoo on her leg both started glowing red. She proceeded to gently tap her forehead then her neck, letting out a sharp breath.

“Because, I only use manipulation magic for language when I wish to intimidate. Otherwise, it’s wasting my reserves. Especially, when it’s spent talking to someone who shelters rocks inside their skull.” She explained putting her hands on her hips, words dripping with contempt. Licking the blood from her upper lip, coming down from her nose. “Everything’s already prepared, just step through the fog and you can be on your way and out of my sight.”

Post a random fact about yourself.

Fact: I've had so many lies successfully spread about me, it's kind of disgusting how little anyone tries.

I've noticed people will just fucking fall or believe fucking anything told to them by clear bullies and terrible people. When literally just a single step back, or some basic common sense would pick it apart immediately...

It's happened to me so many flipping times...every single rumor ever spread about me. No matter just how fucking stupid it is. It's just bought, hook line and sinker...always.

Sure, most of it was "kids/teens being horrible people", but it wasn't -always- that. Adults have been apart of it too. But even then, it's happened at least a dozen times in my life now?

One of the shortest periods, so thereby the smartest group of people. (how fucking ironic.) Was about a week or so, of an entire school of people hating me for no reason. 16-17 year old's mind. They were offended because I -supposedly- said. "Everyone who goes to this district school's are stupid."

Now, must I even explain the obvious flaw with that insult?

No, I don't. Even without context, you should understand the problem...

And, because one of more thick people at the school actually directly told me the contradiction, but STILL didn't get it. "You know the school you're currently going to, is in this district too!"

Yes, asshat. Yes, IT is...So either you're offended/hurt at someone stupid enough to call themselves stupid. Or maybe you're all fulfilling a self-fulfilled prophecy!

Thankfully, most apologized and I befriended nearly all of them afterward. Because shock of all shock, getting to know me made them all like me quite a bit. But fuck me, it was a school I not only didn't need to go to, but it was the start of their year. So I didn't need -another- untrue rumor that was so blatantly false.

And I vent about this now, because this curse has clearly not left me yet...

Post a random fact about yourself.

I have the opinion that anyone who watches The Good Doctor and actually thinks that's how High-Functioning Autistics behave or even unironically likes the show should be flogged...

Explain an Anime Plot Badly

A bear brainwashes a girl into a regressive state.