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"It seems to me that Juggalos misunderstand why people don't like them. They all seem to think it's because they're "different", but in reality it's most likely because they're dumb and are proud of it. I think to many, they are one of the many tangible examples of the movement towards anti-intellectualism in America."
they may not all be scum of the earth, but anyone i've ever run into who is in icp clothing or a fan, has always fit my comprehensive definition of scum of the earth.
Apathy as a general philosophy is just plain silly. While I agree with the director's portrayal that Juggalos are largely misunderstood, I still believe they are in fact, scum.
I don't base this off the fact that they attend festivals and do lots of drugs (I strongly encourage this if one is responsible enough to do so); after all, the strong parallels between Juggalo culture and Hippy culture are striking. The reason why I condemn Juggalos yet am only mildy kerfuffled (save moments of intoxication) is because Juggalos listen to music which I find intellectually offensive. Hippies on the other hand (see Burning Man) lean more towards rock and roll/blues/jazz/bluegrass/etc.
So really, I hardly see any moral or philosophical difference between stinky hippies demanding eternal love for five bucks a tab and benighted juggalos saying "fuck the world, lets party." I just really, really hate juggalo art of all kinds.
That was very interesting. Yet, it made me sad. To be so fucking stupid and then be stoked on that seems like that is quickly becoming the norm in American Society.
"We're all a puzzle. And everyone is an INTERVAL part. Just see the big picher." That pretty much says it all.
I have absolutely PWNED Shaggy 2 Dope in the following:
Volleyball
Laser Tag
Softball
We were playing volleyball and I was just raining spikes on his head over and over. He was getting all frustrated and talking shit so I said, "You know your music is absolute shit, right?". And he laughed a little bit and jerked his head in the direction of his candy painted, tv in the headrests, dropped caddy and said, "That's cool....I'm a millionaire and I fuck more bitches in a month then you will in your life".
I just sort of nodded and honestly gained a little bit of respect for the dude, because after all, he was right. I went back to dominating his little ass (no homo) in volleyball.
The next day we were at this miniature little mall in bumble fuck upstate NY somewhere outside of Albany...or Amsterdam...and he was swarmed by a bunch of little juggalos. It was hilarious, but I will say that his stupid ass knows how to act "famous".
I spent every day for about 3 weeks sharing a room with the dude and I'm pretty sure that he wore (and slept in) a huge b ball jersey and b ball shorts every day. He carries himself like a thug, gangster, wigger, but his music is goofy shlock rap...I never understood that. Like...do you want to be slip knot, marilyn manson, or ice cube?
He throws like a girl....he has t rex arm syndrome. Like those kids in gym who take red rubber balls to the grill daily.
good post, and I would add that I find hippy music intellectually offensive as well.
Liking overly intricate, self-indulgent jam band music is like saying a trick is better because there were more rotations and two grabs. There's nothing more monotonous and soul sucking then 99% of this hippie fuckery known as jam band music. I seriously cannot at all understand the popularity of bands like String Cheese, Phish, etc. I'm sorry but scales and technical difficulty mean fuck all to me. See how I managed to rant in a totally irrelevant fashion?
Is this actually true? Why were you in a room with him for three weeks? Also I would maybe go to gathering if it wasn't a bunch of fucking juggalos, because I Hagen them.
"Some old man told me there was nothing good in the world. I actually believed that shit until I came here, I mean look at this shit! Aaaaaaaaaaaallllllll the titties, aaaaaaaaalllllllllll the weed, alllllllllllllllllllll the fast food!"
I was in rehab in.....'05? '06? I forget...they've blended together, if you catch my drift. It was a treatment center in up-state NY, in a little town called Hagaman. At the time it was called St. Jude's Retreat, but I believe it's called something else, now. Shaggy 2 Dope, aka Joey, was my roommate. He actually left the program for a few days to go participate in the gathering. He came back with a destroyed knee after he fell off the stage.
Picture me and Joey lying on our backs, hands folded behind our heads, sharing our pain and our hopes and our fears with one another as night became dawn and sleep found us finally.