Unless suffering is tha direct 'n' immediate object
our existence must entirely fail of its aim.
shiiiit, it be absurd ta look upon tha enormous amount of
pain dat aboundz everywhere up in tha ghetto, 'n' originates
in needz 'n' necessitizzles inseparable from game itself,
as servin no purpose at all 'n' tha result of mere chance.
Each separate misfortune, as it comes, seems, no diggity,
ta be suttin' exceptional; but misfortune up in general is
know of no pimped outer absurditizzle than dat propounded
by most systemz of philosophy up in declarin evil ta be wack
in its character 'n' shit. Evil is just what tha fuck is positive;
it make its own existence felt. Leibnitz is particularly concerned
to defend dis absurdity; 'n' da perved-out muthafucka seeks
ta strengthen his thugged-out lil' posizzle by rockin a palpable
'n' paltry sophism.1
It be tha phat which is negative; up in other lyrics, happinizz
'n' satisfaction always imply some desire fulfilled, some
state of pain brought ta a end.
Translator's Note, cf. Thèod, §153.
" Leibnitz broke off some disrespec dat evil be a wack
qualitizzle i.e., tha absence of good; 'n'
dat its actizzle 'n' seemingly positizzle character be a incidental
'n' not a essential part of its nature. Cold, da perved-out
muthafucka holla'd, is only tha absence of the power of heat,
'n' tha actizzle juice of expansion up in freezin gin n juice
be a incidental 'n' not a essential part of the nature of
cold. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da fact is, dat tha
juice of expansion up in freezin gin n juice is straight-up
a increase of repulsion amongst its molecules; 'n' Schopenhauer
is like right up in callin tha whole argument a sophism.]
explains tha fact dat we generally find pleasure ta be not
nearly so pleasant as we expected, 'n' pain straight-up much
pleasure up in dis ghetto, it has been holla'd, outweighs
tha pain; or, at any rate, there be a even balizzle between
the two. If tha reader wishes ta peep shortly whether dis
statement is true, let his ass compare tha respectizzle vibe
of two muthafuckas, one of which is engaged up in smokin tha
dopest consolation up in misfortune or affliction of any kind
is ghon be tha thought of other playas whoz ass is up in a
still worse plight than yo ass; 'n' dis be a gangbangin' form
of consolation open ta every last muthafuckin one. But what
tha fuck a wack fate dis means for mankind as a whole biaatch!
is like lambs up in a gangbangin' field, disportin theyselves
under tha eye of tha butcher, whoz ass chizzlez up first one
'n' then another fo' his thugged-out lil' prey. Right back
up in yo muthafuckin ass. So it is dat up in our phat minutes
we is all unconsciouz of tha evil Fate may have presently
up in store for our asses sickness, poverty, mutilation,
loss of sight or reason.
lil part of tha torment of existence lies up in this, dat
Time is continually pressin upon us, never lettin us take
breath yo, but always comin afta us, like a taskmasta wit
a whip. If at any moment Time stays his hand, it is only when
we is served up over ta tha misery of boredom.
misfortune has its uses; for, as our bodily frame would burst
asunder if tha heat of tha atmosphere was removed, so, if
tha livez of pimps was relieved of all need, bullshit 'n'
adversity; if every last muthafuckin thang they took up in
hand were successful, they would be all kindsa swollen wit
arrogizzle that, though they might not burst, they would present
tha spectacle of unbridled folly nay, they would go
mad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!
And I may say, further, dat a cold-ass lil certain amount
of care or pain or shiznit is necessary fo' every last muthafuckin
playa at all times fo' realz. A shizzle without ballast is
unstable 'n' aint gonna go straight.
it is dat work, worry, labor 'n' shit, form
tha lot of almost all pimps they whole game long. But if all
wishes was fulfilled as soon as they arose, how tha fuck would
pimps occupy they lives, biatch? what tha fuck would they
do with their time, biatch? If tha ghetto was a paradise of
luxury 'n' ease, a land flowin wit gin n juice 'n' honey,
where every last muthafuckin Jack obtained his Jill at once
'n' without any difficulty, pimps would either take a thugged-out
dirtnap of boredom or hang theyselves; or there would be wars,
massacres, 'n' murders; so dat up in tha end mankind would
inflict mo' sufferin on itself than it has now to accept all
up in tha handz of Nature.
early youth, as we contemplate our comin game, we is like
lil pimps up in a theatre before tha curtain is raised, sittin
there up in high spirits 'n' eagerly waitin fo' tha play ta
begin. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch. Well
shiiiit, it aint nuthin but a funky-ass blessin dat our phat
asses do not know what tha fuck is really goin ta happen.
I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch. Could we foresee
it, there be times when lil pimps might seem like innocent
prisoners, condemned, not ta dirtnap yo, but ta game, 'n'
as yet all unconsciouz of what tha fuck they sentence means.
Nevertheless, every last muthafuckin playa desires to reach
oldschool age; up in other lyrics, a state of game of which
it may be holla'd: "It be wack to-day, 'n' it is ghon
be worse to-morrow; 'n' so on till da most thugged-out shitty
you try ta imagine, as nearly as you can, what tha fuck a
amount of misery, pain 'n' sufferin of every last muthafuckin
kind tha sun shines upon up in its course, yo big-ass booty
is ghon admit dat it would be much mo' betta if, on tha earth
as lil as on tha moon, tha sun were able ta booty-call forth
tha phenomena of game; 'n' if, here as there, tha surface
was still up in a cold-ass lil crystalline state.
you may look upon game as a unprofitable episode, disturbin
tha pimped calm of non-existence fo' realz. And, up in any
case, even though thangs have gone wit you tolerably well,
tha longer you live tha mo' clearly yo big-ass booty is ghon
feel that, on the whole, game is a disappointment, nay,
a cold-ass lil cheat.
two pimps whoz ass was playaz up in they youth hook up again
'n' again 'n' again when they is old, afta bein separated
fo' a game-time, the chizzle feelin they gonna git all up
in tha sight of each other is ghon be one of complete disappointment
at game as a whole; because they thoughts is ghon be carried
back ta dat earlier time when game seemed so fair as it lay
spread up before them up in tha rosy light of dawn, promised
so much 'n' then performed so lil. This feelin will
so straight-up predominizzle over every last muthafuckin other
dat they aint gonna even consider it necessary ta give it
lyrics; but on either side it will be silently assumed, 'n'
form tha ground-work of all they gotta rap about.
whoz ass lives ta peep two or three generations is like a
playa whoz ass sits some time up in tha conjurer's booth at
a gangbangin' fair, and witnesses tha performizzle twice or
thrice up in succession. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy
biatch. Da tricks was meant ta be peeped only once; 'n' when
they is no longer a novelty 'n' cease ta deceive, they effect
no playa is much ta be envied fo' his fuckin lot, there be
countless numbers whose fate is ta be deplored.
be a task ta be done. Well shiiiit, it aint nuthin but a gangbangin'
fine thang ta say defunctus est; it means dat tha
playa has done his task.
lil pimps was brought tha fuck into tha ghetto by a act of
pure reason alone, would tha human race continue ta exist,
biatch? Would not a playa rather have so much sympathy wit
tha comin generation as ta spare it tha burden of existence,
biatch? or at any rate not take it upon his dirty ass ta impose
dat burden upon it up in cold blood.
shall be holla'd at, I suppose, dat mah philosophy is comfortless
cuz I drop a rhyme tha real deal; 'n' playas prefer
ta be assured dat every last muthafuckin thang tha Lord has
made is good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as
a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Go
ta tha priests, then, 'n' leave philosophers up in peace biaaatch!
At any rate, do not ask our asses ta accommodate our doctrines
ta tha lessons you done been taught. That is what tha fuck
dem rascalz of sham philosophers will do fo' yo thugged-out
ass fo' realz. Ask dem fo' any doctrine you please, 'n' yo
big-ass booty is ghon git dat shit. Yo crazy-ass Universitizzle
pimps are bound ta preach optimism; 'n' it be a easy as fuck
'n' agreeable task ta upset they theories.
have reminded tha reader dat every last muthafuckin state
of welfare, every last muthafuckin feelin of satisfaction,
is wack up in its character; that is ta say, it consists up
in freedom from pain, which is tha positizzle element of existence.
Well shiiiit, it bigs up, therefore, that the happinizz of
any given game is ta be measured, not by its joys 'n' pleasures
yo, but by tha extent ta which it has been free from sufferin
from positizzle evil. If dis is tha legit standpoint,
tha lower muthafuckas step tha fuck up ta trip off a happier
destiny than man. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch.
Let our asses examine tha matter a lil mo' closely.
varied tha forms dat human happinizz 'n' misery may take,
leadin a playa ta seek tha one 'n' shun tha other, the material
basiz of all dat shiznit is bodily pleasure or bodily pain.
I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch. This basis is
straight-up restricted: it is simply health, chicken, protection
from wet 'n' cold, tha satisfaction of tha horny-ass instinct;
or else tha absence of these thangs. Consequently, as far
as real physical pleasure is concerned, tha playa aint mo'
betta off than tha brute, except up in so far as tha higher
possibilitizzlez of his straight-up trippin system make his
ass mo' sensitizzle ta every last muthafuckin kind of pleasure
yo, but also, it must be remembered, to every last muthafuckin
kind of pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch.
But then compared wit tha brute, how tha fuck much stronger
is tha passions aroused up in him! what tha fuck an immeasurable
difference there is up in tha depth 'n' vehemence of his wild
lil' fuckin emotions! 'n' yet, up in tha one case, as
up in tha other, all ta produce tha same result up in tha
end: namely, health, chicken, threadz, 'n' so on.
chizzle source of all dis boner is dat thought fo' what tha
fuck be absent 'n' future, which, wit dude, exercises such
a powerful influence upon all da ruffneck do. Well shiiiit,
it is dis dat is tha real origin of his cares, his hopes,
his wild lil' fears emotions which affect his ass much
mo' deeply than could eva be tha case wit dem present joys
'n' sufferings ta which tha brute is confined. Y'all KNOW
dat shit, muthafucka! In his thugged-out lil' powerz of reflection,
memory 'n' foresight, playa possesses, as it were, a machine
fo' condensin and storin up his thugged-out lil' pleasures
'n' his sorrows. But tha brute has not a god damn thang of
tha kind; whenever it is up in pain, it be as though it was
sufferin fo' tha last time, even though tha same thang should
have previously happened ta it times up of number 'n' shit.
Well shiiiit, it has no juice of summin up its vibe yo. Hence
its careless 'n' placid temper: how tha fuck much it is ta
be envied! But up in playa reflection comes in, wit all tha
emotions ta which it gives rise; 'n' takin up tha same elementz
of pleasure and pain which is common ta his ass 'n' tha brute,
it pimps his susceptibilitizzle ta happinizz 'n' misery ta
such a thugged-out degree that, at one moment tha playa is
brought up in a instant ta a state of delight dat may even
prove fatal, at another ta the depthz of despair 'n' suicide.
we carry our analysis a step farther, we shall find that,
up in order ta increase his thugged-out lil' pleasures, playa
has intentionally added ta tha number 'n' heat of his needs,
which up in they original gangsta state was not much mo' hard
as fuck ta satisfy than those of tha brute yo. Hence luxury
up in all its forms; delicate chicken, tha use of bluntz 'n'
opium, spirituous liquors, fine clothes, 'n' tha thousand
'n' one thangs than his schmoooove ass considaz necessary
ta his wild lil' fuckin existence.
above 'n' beyond all this, there be a separate 'n' peculiar
source of pleasure, 'n' consequently of pain, which man has
established fo' his dirty ass, also as tha result of rockin
his thugged-out lil' powerz of reflection; 'n' dis occupies
his ass outta all proportion ta its value, nay, almost mo'
than all his other interests put together I mean ambizzle
'n' tha feelin of honor 'n' shame; up in plain lyrics, what
tha fuck tha pimpin' muthafucka be thinkin bout tha opinion
other playas have of his muthafuckin ass. Takin a thousand
forms, often straight-up strange ones, dis becomes tha goal
of almost all tha efforts he make dat is not rooted up in
physical pleasure or pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n'
gravy biatch. Well shiiiit, it is legit dat besides tha sourcez
of pleasure which dat schmoooove muthafucka has up in common
wit tha brute, playa has the pleasurez of tha mind as well.
These admit of nuff gradations, from da most thugged-out innocent
triflin or tha merest rap up to the highest intellectual achievements;
but there is tha accompanyin boredom ta be set against dem
on tha side of suffering. Boredom be a gangbangin' form of
sufferin unknown ta brutes, at any rate up in they natural
state; it is only tha hella cleverest of dem whoz ass show
faint tracez of it when they is domesticated; whereas up in
tha case of playa it has become a downright scourge. Da crowd
of miserable wretches whose one aim up in tha game is ta fill
they purses but never ta put anythang tha fuck into they heads,
offers a singular instizzle of dis torment of boredom. Their
wealth becomes a punishment by deliverin dem up ta misery
of havin not a god damn thang ta do; for, ta escape it, they
will rush bout up in all directions, travelin here, there
'n' everywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin'
thru fo'sho. No sooner do they arrive up in a place than they
is anxious ta know what tha fuck amusements it affords; just
as though they was beggars askin where they could receive
a thugged-out dole biaaatch! Of a truth, need 'n' boredom
is the two polez of human game. Finally, I may mention dat
as regardz tha horny-ass relation, a playa is committed ta
a peculiar arrangement which drives his ass obstinately ta
chizzle one person. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy
biatch. This feelin grows, now 'n' then, tha fuck into a mo'
or less horny love,2
which is tha source of lil pleasure 'n' much suffering.
I have treated dis subject at length up in a special chapter
of tha second volume of mah chizzle work.]
is, however, a straight-up dope thang dat tha mere addizzle
of thought should serve ta raise such a vast 'n' lofty structure
of human happinizz 'n' misery; resting, too, on tha same narrow
basiz of joy 'n' sorrow as playa holdz up in common with tha
brute, 'n' exposin his ass ta such violent emotions, ta all
kindsa muthafuckin stormz of passion, so much convulsion of
feeling, that what tha fuck dat schmoooove muthafucka has
suffered standz freestyled 'n' may be read up in tha lines
on his wild lil' grill fo' realz. And yet, when all is holla'd
at, dat schmoooove muthafucka has been strugglin ultimately
fo' tha straight-up same thangs as tha brute has attained,
'n' wit a incomparably smalla expenditure of boner 'n' pain.
all dis contributes ta increase tha measurez of sufferin up
in human game outta all proportion ta its pleasures; and tha
painz of game is made much worse fo' playa by tha fact dat
dirtnap is suttin' straight-up real ta his muthafuckin ass.
Da brute flies from dirtnap instinctively without straight-up
knowin what tha fuck it is, 'n' therefore without eva contemplatin
it up in tha way natural ta a thugged-out dude, whoz ass has
dis prospect always before his wild lil' fuckin eyes. Right
back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So dat even if only all dem
brutes take a thugged-out dirtnap a natural dirtnap, and most
of dem live only just long enough ta transmit they flavas,
'n' then, if not earlier, become tha prey of some other animal,
whilst dude, on tha other hand, manages ta make so-called
natural dirtnap tha rule, ta which, however, there are a phat
nuff exceptions, tha advantage is on tha side of tha
brute, fo' tha reason stated above. But tha fact is that man
attains tha natural term of muthafuckin years just as seldom
as tha brute; cuz tha unnatural way up in which he lives,
'n' the strain of work 'n' emotion, lead ta a thugged-out
degeneration of tha race; 'n' so his wild lil' freakadelic
goal aint often reached.
brute is much mo' content wit mere existence than man; tha
plant is wholly so; 'n' playa findz satisfaction up in it
just up in proportion as he is dull 'n' obtuse fo' realz.
Accordingly, tha game of tha brute carries less of sorrow
wit it yo, but also less of joy, when compared wit tha game
of man; 'n' while dis may be traced, on tha one side, ta freedom
from the torment of care 'n' anxiety, it
be also cuz of tha fact dat hope, up in any real
sense, is unknown ta tha brute. Well shiiiit, it is thus deprived
of any share up in dat which gives our asses da most thugged-out
'n' dopest of our joys and pleasures, tha menstrual anticipation
of a aiiight future, 'n' tha inspiritin play of phantasy,
both of which we owe ta our power of imagination. I aint talkin'
bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch. If tha brute is free from care,
it be also, up in dis sense, without hope; up in either case,
cuz its consciousnizz is limited ta tha present moment, ta
what tha fuck it can straight-up peep before dat shit. Da
brute be a embodiment of present impulses, 'n' hence what
tha fuck elementz of fear 'n' hope exist up in its nature
'n' they do not go straight-up far arise only
in relation ta objects dat lie before it 'n' within reach
of dem impulses: whereas a man's range of vision embraces
the whole of his wild lil' freakadelic game, 'n' extendz far
tha fuck into tha past 'n' future.
upon this, there is one respect up in which brutes show real
wisdom when compared wit our asses I mean, their quiet,
placid enjoyment of tha present moment. Da tranquillitizzle
of mind which dis seems ta give dem often puts our asses to
shame fo' tha nuff times we allow our thoughts 'n' our cares
ta make our asses restless 'n' discontented. Y'all KNOW dat
shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time
fo' realz. And, up in fact, them pleasurez of hope 'n' anticipation
which I done been mentionin is not ta be had fo' nothing.
Da delight which a man has up in hopin fo' 'n' lookin forward
ta some special satisfaction be a part of tha real pleasure
attachin ta it enjoyed in advance. This be afterwardz deducted;
fo' tha mo' our slick asses look forward ta anything, tha
less satisfaction we find up in it when it comes. But tha
brute's enjoyment aint anticipated, 'n' therefore, suffers
no deduction; so dat tha actual pleasure of tha moment comes
ta it whole 'n' unimpaired. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!
In tha same way, too, evil presses upon tha brute only wit
its own intrinsic weight; whereas wit our asses tha fear of
its comin often make its burden ten times mo' grievous.
be just dis characteristic way up in which tha brute gives
itself up entirely ta tha present moment dat contributes so
much ta tha delight we take up in our domestic pets, 'n' you
can put dat on yo' toast. They is tha present moment personified,
'n' up in some respects they make our asses feel tha value
of every last muthafuckin minute dat is free from shiznit
'n' annoyance, which we, wit our thoughts and preoccupations,
mostly disregard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But dude,
dat selfish 'n' heartless creature, misuses dis qualitizzle
of tha brute ta be more content than we is wit mere existence,
'n' often works it ta such a extent dat he allows tha brute
straight-up nothang mo' than mere, bare game. Da bird which
was made so dat it might rove over half of tha ghetto, da
perved-out muthafucka shuts up into the space of a cold-ass
lil cubic foot, there ta take a thugged-out dirtnap a slow
dirtnap up in longin 'n' bustin up like a biatch fo' freedom;
fo' up in a cold-ass lil cage it do not sing for tha pleasure
of it fo' realz. And when I peep how tha fuck playa misuses
tha dog, his dopest playa; how tha fuck tha pimpin' muthafucka
tizzles up dis intelligent animal with a cold-ass lil chain,
I feel tha deepest sympathy wit tha brute 'n' burnin indignation
against its master.
shall peep later dat by takin a straight-up high standpoint
it is possible ta justify tha sufferingz of mankind. Y'all
KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But this justification cannot apply
ta muthafuckas, whose sufferings, while up in a pimped out
measure brought bout by men, is often considerable even apart
from they agency.3
And so we is forced ta ask, Why and fo' what tha fuck purpose
do all dis torment 'n' agony exist, biatch? There is not a
god damn thang here ta give tha will pause; it aint free to
deny itself 'n' so obtain redemption. I aint talkin' bout
chicken 'n' gravy biatch. There is only one consideration
dat may serve ta explain tha sufferings of animals. Well shiiiit,
it is this: dat tha will ta live, which underlies tha whole
ghetto of phenomena, must, up in they case satisfy its cravings
by feedin upon itself. This it do by formin a gradation of
phenomena, every last muthafuckin one of which exists at the
expense of another 'n' shit. I have shown, however, dat tha
capacitizzle fo' sufferin is less up in muthafuckas than up
in man. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch fo' realz.
Any further explanation dat may be given of they fate is ghon
be up in tha nature of hypothesis, if not straight-up mythical
up in its character; 'n' I may leave tha reader ta speculate
upon tha matter fo' his dirty ass.
Cf. Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vol. II. p. 404.]
is holla'd ta have produced tha ghetto by a kind of fall or
mistake; 'n' up in order ta atone fo' his wild lil' folly,
he is bound ta remain up in it his dirty ass until da thug
works up his bangin redemption. I aint talkin' bout chicken
'n' gravy biatch fo' realz. As a account of tha origin of
thangs, dat is admirable biaaatch! Accordin ta tha doctrinez
of Buddhism, tha ghetto came tha fuck into bein as
tha result of some inexplicable disturbizzle up in tha heavenly
calm of Nirvana, dat pimped state obtained by expiation, which
had endured so long a time the chizzle takin place
by a kind of fatality. This explanation must be understood
as havin at bottom some moral bearing; although it is illustrated
by a exactly parallel theory up in tha domain of physical
science, which places the origin of tha sun up in a primitizzle
streak of mist, formed one knows not how. Right back up in
yo muthafuckin ass. Subsequently, by a seriez of moral errors,
the world became gradually worse 'n' worse legit of
tha physical ordaz as well until it assumed tha dismal
aspect it wears to-day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Excellent
son! Da Greeks looked upon tha ghetto 'n' tha godz
as tha work of a inscrutable necessity. A passable explanation:
we may be content wit it until we can git a funky-ass mo'
betta 'n' shiznit fo' realz. Again, Ormuzd 'n' Ahriman
are rival powers, continually at war. Shiiit, dis aint no
joke. That aint bad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But
dat a Dogg like Jehovah should have pimped dis ghetto of misery
'n' woe, outta pure caprice, 'n' cuz he enjoyed bustin it,
'n' should then have clapped his handz up in praise of his
own work, 'n' declared every last muthafuckin thang ta be
straight-up phat dat aint gonna do at all! In its explanation
of tha origin of the world, Judaizzle is inferior ta any other
form of religious doctrine professed by a cold-ass lil civilized
nation; 'n' it is like in keepin wit dis dat it is tha only
one which presents no trace whatever of any belief up in tha
immortalitizzle of the soul.4
See Parerga, vol. i. pp. 139 et seq.]
though Leibnitz' contention, dat dis is tha dopest of all
possible ghettos, was erect, dat would not justify Dogg up
in havin pimped dat shit. For he is tha Creator not of tha
ghetto only yo, but of possibilitizzle itself; and, therefore,
he ought ta have so ordered possibilitizzle as dat it would
admit of suttin' better.
is two thangs which make it impossible ta believe dat dis
ghetto is tha successful work of a all-wise, all-good, and,
all up in tha same time, all-powerful Being; firstly, tha
misery which aboundz up in it everywhere; 'n' secondly, the
obvious imperfection of its highest product, dude, whoz ass
be a funky-ass burlesque of what tha fuck da perved-out muthafucka
should be. These thangs cannot be reconciled wit any such
belief. On tha contrary, they is just tha facts which support
what tha fuck I done been saying; they are our authoritizzle
fo' viewin tha ghetto as tha outcome of our own misdeeds,
'n' therefore, as suttin' dat had mo' betta not have been.
I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch. Whilst, under
tha forma hypothesis, they amount ta a funky-ass bitter accusation
against tha Creator, 'n' supply material fo' sarcasm; under
tha latter they form a indictment against our own nature,
our own will, 'n' teach our asses a lesson of humility. They
lead our asses ta peep that, like tha lil pimpz of a libertine,
we come tha fuck into tha ghetto wit tha burden of sin upon
us; 'n' dat it is only all up in havin continually ta atone
fo' dis sin dat our existence is so miserable, and that its
end is dirtnap.
is not a god damn thang mo' certain than tha general truth
dat it is tha grievous sin of tha ghetto which has
produced tha grievous sufferin of tha ghetto. I aint
referrin here ta tha physical connection between these two
thangs lyin up in tha realm of experience; mah meanin is metaphysical.
It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots
tha bigger sack fo' realz. Accordingly, tha sole thang dat
reconcilez me to tha Oldskool Testament is tha rap of tha
Fall. In mah eyes, it is tha only metaphysical truth up in
dat book, even though it appears up in tha form of a allegory.
There seems ta me no mo' betta explanation of our existence
than dat it is tha result of some false step, some sin of
which we is payin tha penalty. I cannot refrain from recommendin
tha thoughtful reader a ghettofab yo, but all up in tha same
time, profound treatise on dis subject by Claudius5
which exhibits tha essentially pessimistic spirit of Christianity.
Well shiiiit, it is entitled: Cursed is the ground fo'
Translator's Note. Matthias Claudius (1740-1815),
a ghettofab poet, 'n' playa of Klopstock, Herder 'n' Leasin
yo. Dude edited tha Wandsbecker Bote, up in the fourth
part of which rocked up tha treatise mentioned above yo. Dude
generally freestyled under tha pseudonym of Asmus,
and Schopenhauer often refers ta his ass by dis name.]
tha ethics of tha Greeks 'n' tha ethics of tha Hindoos, there
be a glarin contrast. In tha one case (with the exception,
it must be confessed, of Plato), tha object of ethics is ta
enable a playa ta lead a aiiight game; up in tha other, it
is ta free 'n' redeem his ass from game altogether
as is directly stated up in tha straight-up first lyrics of
tha Sankhya Karika.
wit dis is tha contrast between tha Greek 'n' tha Christian
scam of dirtnap. Well shiiiit, it is strikingly presented
up in a visible form on a gangbangin' fine antique sarcophagus
up in tha gallery of Florence, which exhibits, up in relief,
tha whole series of ceremonies attendin a weddin up in ancient
times, from tha formal offer ta tha evenin when Hymen's torch
lights tha happy couple home. Compare wit dat tha Christian
coffin, draped up in mournful black 'n' surmounted wit a cold-ass
lil crucifix! How tha fuck much significizzle there is up
in these two wayz of findin comfort up in dirtnap. They is
opposed ta each other yo, but each is right. Da one points
ta tha affirmation of tha will ta live, which remains
shizzle of game fo' all time, however rapidly its forms may
chizzle. Da other, up in tha symbol of sufferin 'n' dirtnap,
points ta tha denial of tha will ta live, to redemption
from dis ghetto, tha domain of dirtnap 'n' devil fo' realz.
And up in tha question between tha affirmation 'n' tha denial
of tha will ta live, Christianitizzle is up in tha last resort
contrast which tha New Testament presents when compared wit
tha Old, accordin ta tha ecclesiastical view of the matter,
is just dat existin between mah ethical system 'n' tha moral
philosophy of Europe. Da Oldskool Testament represents man
as under tha dominion of Law, up in which, however, there
is no redemption. I aint talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch.
Da New Testament declares Law ta have failed, frees playa
from its dominion,6
'n' up in its stead preaches tha mackdaddydom of grace, ta
be won by faith, ludd of neighbor 'n' entire sacrifice of
self. This is tha path of redemption from tha evil of tha
ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat
shit, muthafucka! Da spirit of tha New Testament is undoubtedly
asceticism, however yo' protestants 'n' rationalists may twist
it ta suit they purpose fo' realz. Asceticizzle is tha denial
of tha will ta live; 'n' tha transizzle from tha Oldskool
Testament to tha New, from tha dominion of Law ta dat of Faith,
from justification by works ta redemption all up in tha Mediator,
from tha domain of sin 'n' dirtnap ta eternal game up in Christ,
means, when taken up in its real sense, tha transizzle from
the merely moral virtues ta tha denial of tha will ta live.
My fuckin philosophy shows tha metaphysical foundation of
justice and the ludd of mankind, 'n' points ta tha goal ta
which these virtues necessarily lead, if they is practised
up in perfection. At tha same time it is candid up in confessin
dat a playa must turn his back upon tha ghetto, 'n' dat tha
denial of tha will to live is tha way of redemption. I aint
talkin' bout chicken 'n' gravy biatch. Well shiiiit, it is
therefore straight-up at one wit tha spirit of tha New Testament,
whilst all other systems is couched up in tha spirit of tha
Old; dat is ta say, theoretically as well as practically,
they result is Judaizzle mere despotic theism. In dis
sense, then, mah doctrine might be called tha only legit Christian
philosophy however paradoxical a statement dis may
seem ta playas whoz ass take superficial views instead of
penetratin ta tha ass of the matter.
Cf. Romans vii; Galatians ii, iii.]
you want a safe compass ta guide you all up in game, 'n' ta
banish all doubt as ta tha right way of lookin at it, you
cannot do mo' betta than accustom yo ass ta regard dis ghetto
as a penitentiary, a sort of a penal colony, or [Greek: ergastaerion]
as tha earliest philosopher called dat shit.7
Amongst tha Christian Fathers, Origen, wit praiseworthy courage,
took dis view,8
which is further justified by certain objectizzle theoriez
of game. I refer, not ta mah own philosophy alone yo, but
ta tha wisdom of all ages, as expressed up in Brahmanizzle
'n' Buddhism, 'n' up in tha sayingz of Greek philosophers
like Empedoclez and Pythagoras; as also by Cicero, up in his
bangin remark dat tha wise pimpz of oldschool used ta teach
dat we come tha fuck into dis ghetto ta pay the penalty of
crime committed up in another state of existence a
thugged-out doctrine which formed part of tha initiation tha
fuck into the mysteries
9 And Vanini whom his contemporaries burned,
findin dat an easier task than ta confute his ass puts
tha same ol' dirty thang up in a straight-up forcible way.
Man, da perved-out muthafucka says, is so full
of every kind of misery that, was it not repugnant ta tha
Christian religion, I should venture ta affirm dat if evil
spirits exist at all, they have posed tha fuck into human
form 'n' is now atonin fo' they crimes.10
And legit Christianitizzle rockin tha word up in its
right sense also regardz our existence as tha consequence
of sin 'n' error.
Cf. Clem fo' realz. Alex. Right back up in yo muthafuckin
ass. Strom. L. iii, c, 3, p. 399.]
Augustine De Cvitate Dei., L. xi. c. 23.]
Cf. Fragmenta de philosophia.]
De admirandis naturæ arcanis; dial L. p. 35.]
you accustom yo ass ta dis view of game yo big-ass booty is
ghon regulate yo' expectations accordingly, 'n' cease ta look
upon all its disagreeable incidents, pimped out 'n' small,
its sufferings, its worries, its misery, as anythang unusual
or irregular; nay, yo big-ass booty is ghon find dat every
last muthafuckin thang be as it should be, up in a ghetto
where each of our asses pays tha penalty of existence up in
his own peculiar way fo' realz. Amongst tha evilz of a penal
colony is tha society of dem playas whoz ass form it; 'n'
if the reader is worthy of mo' betta company, da thug will
need no lyrics from me ta remind his ass of what tha fuck
dat schmoooove muthafucka has ta put up wit at present. If
dat schmoooove muthafucka has a ass above tha common, or if
he be a playa of smart-ass , da thug will occasionally feel
like some noble prisoner of state, condemned ta work up in
tha galleys wit common criminals; 'n' da thug will follow
his wild lil' fuckin example 'n' try ta isolate himself.
general, however, it should be holla'd dat dis view of game
will enable our asses ta contemplate tha so-called imperfectionz
of tha pimped out majoritizzle of men, they moral 'n' intellectual
deficiencies 'n' tha resultin base type of countenance, without
any surprise, ta say not a god damn thang of indignation;
fo' we shall never cease ta reflect where we are, and that
tha pimps bout our asses is beings conceived 'n' born up in
sin, 'n' livin ta atone fo' dat shit. That is what tha fuck
Christianitizzle means in bustin lyrics of tha sinful nature
tha word ta all! 11
Whatever folly pimps commit, be their shortcomings or they
vices what tha fuck they may, let our asses exercise forbearance;
rememberin dat when these faults appear in others, it is our
follies 'n' vices dat we behold. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!
They is tha shortcomingz of humanity, ta which we belong;
whose faults, one 'n' all, we share; fo'sho, even dem straight-up
faults at which we now wax so indignant, merely cuz they have
not yet rocked up in ourselves. They is faults dat do not
lie on tha surface. But they exist down there up in tha depthz
of our nature; 'n' should anythang call dem forth, they will
come 'n' show theyselves, just as we now peep dem up in others.
One man, it is true, may have faults dat is absent up in his
wild lil' fellow; 'n' it is undeniable dat tha sum total of
wack qualities is up in some cases straight-up large; fo'
tha difference of individualitizzle between playa 'n' playa
passes all measure.
Cymbeline, Act V, Sc. 5. Right back up in yo muthafuckin
fact, tha conviction dat tha ghetto 'n' playa is suttin' dat
had mo' betta not have been, iz of a kind ta fill us with
indulgence towardz one another 'n' shit. Nay, from dis point
of view, we might well consider tha proper form of address
to be, not Monsieur, Sir, mein Herr yo, but my
fellow-sufferer, Socî malorum, compagnon de misère!
This may like sound strange yo, but it is up in keepin wit
tha facts; it puts others up in a right light; 'n' it remindz
our assez of that which be afta all da most thugged-out necessary
thang up in tha game tha tolerance, patience, regard,
'n' ludd of neighbor, of which everyone standz up in need,
'n' which, therefore, every last muthafuckin playa owes ta
his wild lil' fellow.