They let me write (pretty much) whatever I want, which is chill af. I recently was offered the opportunity to contribute to the new Ride Channel site that launched a couple months ago in conjunction with Complex. I just knew I never wanted to be one of those dudes that started a blog, updated it for a couple months, and then lost interest or whatever. When I started FiC I had no expectations. So, consider this post that–or some shit. The seven-year anniversary of this site passed on November 12, and I failed to post a “happy anniversary” post. Along those lines, I present a review of Gold Goons via #relevant quotes from If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late.
Snowed in most of the following fortnight, I had ample time to contemplate these two works while staring out the window at the sheet of ice that had covered the street in front of my house. Like most things in life, I found out about it via the Twitter monoculture as I do most nights, I had passed out watching the NBA and, reflexively, checked Twitter only to find literally everyone tweeting about a new Drake mixtape and quoting quotable lyrics ‘n’ shit. Subsequently, the Drake mixtape/album/escape method from his Cash Money Records contract If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late dropped in the middle of the night the very next day. The week ending 2/13/14 yielded two milestones in hip-hop white guy content.įirst, the highly anticipated Gold Wheels video #goldgoons premiered on Feb. follow Frozen in Carbonite on twitter and instagram Since then, my perception of Brazil has been further shaped by that one Patrice O’Neal (RIP) bit and Brazilian skateboarders, who, qualitatively, may be better per capita than any country in recorded civilization. RIP “the music industry.”ĪNYWAY, City of God made an impression both for its visceral storytelling and depiction of Brazil as a land that sustains itself on a potent admixture of violence, mysticism, and partying. I don’t know if you remember, but physical compact discs were like $25 then. Hey-we took what we could get in the pre-Internet era.Ī few years earlier, my dad used to run that song “The Girl From Ipanema” non-stop on one of the first CDs ever, like in 1985 or ’86. Even though I was too young to process what the hell was going on in the Mickey Rourke “classic,” I was able to conclude that there was some “crazy” shit happening. Up to that point, the main influence on it was a VHS copy of Wild Orchid that one of my dad’s coworkers taped off of Cinemax (I assume) and lent to him. It was sick, and, more importantly, it marked a paradigm shift in my whole perception of Brazil. I first saw City of God in Ohio in 2003 or so. Case(s) in point: Purple Rain, Top Gun*, Heat (the one with Pacino and DeNiro, natch), and, yes- City of God. However, I keep a mental list of a handful of films that, if they appear on cable, it’s mandatory to begin watching no matter where the narrative is. Truth be told, I prefer visual narrative entertainment in one-hour chunks, like they do on the HBO. Under protest! Do what I gotta do, I guess.
Frozen in carbonite movie#
The last film I saw in a physical movie theater was 50 Shades of Grey.
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