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Rating: Date July 27, 2012, 4:00 in the morning, I'm in the bathroom, sîrsâsana position teetering on my toilet; suddenly a figure about a meter and twenty tall approaches, it's been there for 20' … continues to stare at me without saying a word … it will make me lose concentration and I will lose more than half an hour of meditation.
I won't let a damn gray ruin everything.
I've never understood if it was meditation; in these moments, every time I sweat and work like crazy to maintain this damn position.
It keeps staring at me … suddenly it pulls out a CD, and tells me telepathically “I'll put it here” … it walks away, quick and quiet steps, walking backward, still staring at me, it’s at the door... my blink will do the rest, I'll see it disappear in an instant.
5:30 in the morning, I remain motionless, only a few seconds left and I’ll be done.
I grab the CD, run and immediately put it in my PC, always on, always connected, my chair, my throne, underneath it, logical, right?! a surfboard … I'll navigate the depths of the net later.
I haven't seen anyone, heard anyone, talked to anyone, listened to anyone for over a month…
Project: Artificial Kid (Danno aka Jake la Motta - StabbyoBoy - dj Craim)
Year: 2009
Album name: Number 47
The Artificial Kid, pump in the speakers, stuff that’s not for educated minds; educated minds not to disobey the clichés.
A futuristic album that outlines science fiction scenarios as disturbing as they are damn real.
To hell with the usual gangster rap, mafia rap, self-celebration rap, cliché rap, here it’s serious, methods of treatment and granite themes carve futuristic atmospheres, whose black holes are epicenters that transcend the paths of the soul.
No expense spared, no cheating on the price, here we talk about us, about you; if R. Scott heard it, he'd go crazy and make a film about it.
Instead, we've already made our films, it’s useless to listen if you don't have a Soul, useless to listen if you don't have Stamina, we live on recommendations from grandma, from mom, from auntie, everything will be fine, but nothing gets fixed.
But nothing breaks, and then those pieces that need changing … those noises you hear? Nothing, live and let live, a piece of sheet metal gone bad, a smashed sphenoid, a burnt neuron.
Now get a ticket from the repair staff because in a few weeks an innovation is ready, the new entry costs a fortune, but everyone pays the price.
What’s your problem? I no Have any problem. Have you got a ticket? I no Have any problem. It seems like watching Totò and Peppino, and in the meantime, the carousel goes round, everything spins and who cares if it jams, so in the end, everything gets fixed and the crap via cable gets injected.
Your soundtrack? These are the titles: Il sistema, Assurdo, Deragliamento personale, Ipercubo, U-topia, Rollerball, La verità, CPSOM, Dis-u-topia; but tomorrow you'll forget, so another ride, another turn.
I stay grounded out of necessity, who stays grounded out of greed, better to observe, then if it's worth it I collude and take off, colluding that I'm not alone, colluding that I'm a damn venal, as if the system gets screwed, I won't be the only one paying.
But here nothing gets screwed, everything is the same, damnably the same. The system doesn't jam, doesn't get screwed, it's already ahead of you by 50 years, predicts, calculates, in case reserves for better times, the great Matrix has foreseen everything, the great Matrix does not allow diversification in principles of standardization, standardized in indignation, in truth, in poverty, in hilarity, in ignorance, in discordance … while everything is missing and substance is nowhere.
What the hell will 47 be, an archetypal number?
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