Tom Cable The Same Pictures that Lane Kiffin Has

You know, the ones where USC's AD is having sex with that monkey.

Seriously, though, how in the hell does this guy still have a job? He's not just bad, he's unqualified to be a NFL head coach. Completely and utterly unqualified. I guess that 5-11 season Oakland had really convinced Al Davis.

Then again, Davis is a goddamned moron at this stage in his life. Him drafting Darius Heyward-Bey over Michael freakin' Crabtree confirmed that shit. Him taking JaFatAss Russell first overall int he draft confirmed that shit, too.

Back to Cable for a bit. I'm a bit loathe to ask, but would he still have a job if he were black? Holy hell, people would be screaming about affirmative action if Davis decided to keep Tyrone Cable after his first losing season. Cable's had two, and it's probably safe to bet on the Raiders sucking next year, too. Given this, scratch the beginning of this paragraph; Oakland's problem is its owner, not the coach. Doesn't change the fact that Cable should've never been offered the HC position-- and has no business keeping it for breaking an assistant's jaw earlier this year--but Al Davis is the worst owner in the NFL, even worse than William Clay Ford.

Stardust's One and Only Hit

House Music FTW:

Mos Def on the "Blackstar" Album

It's still the best album of 1998. Period.

On a more specific note, there aren't too many emcee who could touch Kweli lyrically back in the day, but Mos Def (also back in the day) was one of them. For me, there are two specific instances on this album that make me believe that Mos > Kweli during that period. One is his long verse on "RE: Definition," and the other is his even longer verse on "Thieves in the Night." Saying that he murders it on both would be an understatement here, particularly on the latter track. The "Thieves" verse is probably the best example of Mos' blend of technical skill and raw emotion. The "Long barrel automatics released in short bursts/
The length of black life is treated with short worth" couplet is especially poignant. Anyways, that's all I got.

"Yo, I'm sure that everbody out listenin agree

That everything you see ain't really how it be
A lot of jokers out runnin in place, chasin the style
Be a lot goin on beneath the empty smile
Most cats in my area be lovin the hysteria
Synthesized surface conceals the interior
America, land of opportunity, mirages and camoflauges
More than usually -- speakin loudly, sayin nothin
You confusin me, you losin me
Your game is twisted, want me enlisted -- in your usary
Foolishly, most men join the ranks cluelessly
Buffoonishly accept the deception, believe the perception
Reflection rarely seen across the surface of the lookin glass
Walkin the street, wonderin who they be lookin past
Lookin gassed with them imported designer shades on
Stars shine bright, but the light -- rarely stays on
Same song, just remixed, different arrangement
Put you on a yacht but they won't call it a slaveship
Strangeness, you don't control this, you barely hold this
Screamin brand new, when they just sanitized the old shit
Suppose it's, just another clever Jedi mind trick
That they been runnin across stars through all the time with
I find it's distressin, there's never no in-between
We either niggaz or Kings
We either bitches or Queens
The deadly ritual seems immersed, in the perverse
Full of short attention spans, short tempers, and short skirts
Long barrel automatics released in short bursts
The length of black life is treated with short worth
Get yours first, them other niggaz secondary
That type of illin that be fillin up the cemetary
This life is temporary but the soul is eternal
Separate the real from the lie, let me learn you
Not strong, only aggressive, cause the power ain't directed
That's why, we are subjected to the will of the oppressive
Not free, we only licensed
Not live, we just excitin
Cause the captors.. own the masters.. to what we writin
Not compassionate, only polite, we well trained
Our sincerity's rehearsed in stage, it's just a game
Not good, but well behaved cause the ca-me-ra survey
most of the things that we think, do, or say
We chasin after death just to call ourselves brave
But everyday, next man meet with the grave
I give a damn if any fan recall my legacy
I'm tryin to live life in the sight of God's memory
Like that y'all"