So how do y'all feel about multies?
  • So how do y'all feel about multies? Personally, I like them. I use them and they offer a more creative challenge to your writing, especially when starting out. I find them easy when staying simple, but once you add more syllables to rhyme to like 4 or 6, well, I sometimes find myself stuck in a rut after that. Then once you use certain rhyme schemes like a..."ABBACC" rhyme scheme, you get a kinda good feel about yourself. For the record, I've never done that.

Support my boy LSD Aka Leftside Deafinit’s new debut album The Stone Deaf LP

Pure Hiphop at its finest, Multisyllabic is one of the best ways to describe the style. Few of us MC’s can pull it off proficiently but we got it on point…download or buy a physical copy!/profile.php?id=100003384773037

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If you're using syllable structured form in poetry....

newyearsjay answered your question: I get confused with syllables…is the word neon one or two?

I would say two

elibird replied to your post: I get confused with syllables…is the word neon one or two?

2 in my book. Knee-on.

That’s what I thought, but the first and third syllable counters I tried indicated one. I guess with poetry, you can play hard and fast with the specifics of syllables to make the phrase work.

So I’m trying out creating some Tanka poetry. It’s a five line Japanese form in which the syllables you use in each line works like this; 5, 7, 5, 7, 7. I had the bare bones of a poem sitting in my drafts page for over a year, and decided to restructure it into Tanka when I couldn’t get to sleep last night.

"Neon" is a strange one, because if you think of the sounds of a word starting and ending with the opening and closing of the mouth, then neon would just be one syllable. If you say it faster than you would usually say it, it feels like just one syllable, but in regularly speed it feels like it should be two.

Dammit SMTM3. 

You just had to make it a popularity contest. Between a mainstream idol rapper and an emcee. This has been a publicity stunt for YG. 

Might as well have that kid that B-Free shat on come on next and win the damn thing. 

Iron. Must. Win. (I don’t see CJamm winning against Iron… Iron’s more rawwwwwwwww than two fuckers going rawdog in the back of a ‘69 Ford). 

He’s the only hope left. 


Ok. The kid has a good voice. Unique delivery. Money? I guess? He’s got a good deal.

What does he lack? Rhymes, flow, multisyllabics, imagery, storytelling, etc etc. All the technically difficult aspects that make a true emcee. (and also why Masta Wu being on the show makes me puke)

Rat tat tat tat. Rat tat tat tat. Slowing things down, speeding up rhymes… that isn’t flow. Flow is how you play with the beat. It’s not BPM or anything to do with the speed of your words. Flow is how you enunciate, how you play with the words, twisting it, curving it (think YDG, Iron, San-E in particular) to shape the song line by line, word by word. 

Rhymes. My god this show has been the WORST in terms of rhymes. Particularly internal and pattern rhymes that are the pride and joy of any true Korean hip hop fan. P-Type, MC Meta, Nachall, Huck P, B-Free… those guys would just…. dlfak;dslfas;lasfjsa;djfjlasjf;asldf

Storytelling? No need to go further than Defconn’s “Seoul City Deep Cover”, in particular Dconn and Born Kim’s verses, and Defconn’s “소멸”. CHILLING is the word that comes to mind when storytelling is done right. 

No need to go on about the genre shit. discoveringkoreanunderground has written about it before. 

Naturally… I still watch the show because it gives gems like Snacky, Iron, and Zizo a chance to shine. Still.

The Good in Standardized Testing

“Without standardized testing—and lacking any other basis for comparison in their own educational experience—the students’ families had no way of knowing what I had assumed was obvious: that eighth graders on the other side of town were well past working on multisyllabic words or improper fractions. They had no way of knowing that their hardworking, solid-GPA kids were already far behind.”

D.C. teacher Lelac Almagor weighs in on the good and the bad.

anonymous said:

So? You're better than that

I also have no intent to repeatedly use such a powerful and spiritual drug. I understand how from an uninformed-outside-of-commercial-white-media individuals point of view a multisyllabic drug sounds like an end of the line burnout point for a druggie, but DMT is nothing more than, well, the spirit molecule, and from the mindset with which I take my approach to psychedelia there is no way in which this negatively affected my body, or my character.

30 Days of TAH #14: Recruitment

Have you ever gotten someone else to listen to TAH?  What did you or say do to convince them to listen?  Are there any resources you’ve used or gotten anyone else involved in getting them to listen?  Any great memories of someone you’ve convinced to listen reacting to the show?

I’ve gotten a couple people into The Thrilling Adventure Hour. I have two basic avenues.

First, I have a lot of comedy-nerd friends. They’re easy, because they’re bound to be fans of a convenient guest star. Or if they like comedy podcasts, they like Paul F. Tompkins.

But I also have friends who are fans of old movies. They like to call themselves “cinephiles,” but that’s just because multisyllabic words with Latin roots sound fancy. It goes back to the Norman Invasion. Anyway. They like The Thin Man (incidentally, if you like Beyond Belief and haven’t watched at least the first Thin Man movie, you are not living your best life) and recognize the tropes of old Western movies. And Tales from the Black Lagoon is basically written for them.

a set of cravings, multisyllabic

hold your
breath hold your
breath hold your breath
hold your breath breath breath

insatiable, tongue-tied,
set of claws, clauses puncturing
woodwork, zen steps calculated,
matter a pattern well worn, hold

the dharma a law
bury your head in patterns
automation is the future of industry
please hold

unnatural heat travels diffusely
enclosed spaces disembody friction
sexless waltzes on summer pavement
please hold

the scent of establishment guesses
air tarred / enthralled in motion,
the assertions of others, the youth
making slept-on attempts, the divinity
of youth, please hold

your breath is important to us
please hold - 1 hr free transfer
your mouth is important to us
please hold - 30 min delay
due to track maintenance
your touch is important to us
please hold - m4w / m4m / w4w
strictly platonic - for next arrival
please call - hold - hold - hold

Editor’s Note/Major Spoiler Alert: If you’re one of the unfortunate souls who has yet to see Guardians of the Galaxy, we suggest not watching the video above or reading any further. Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel in a phenomenal performance that’s still just barely multisyllabic) heroically sacrifices himself for fellow Guardians Star-Lord, Gamora, Drax, and Rocket. Director James Gunn, already hard at work on Guardians of the Galaxy 2, kindly lent some extra insight on the scene. He told Yahoo Movies that dancing Baby Groot was something that was in the script from the very beginning.

“I can’t stop thinking about your ‘How do you want to be loved?’ question,” my student Wilson said to me two weeks ago. “And I was just wondering, when you asked yourself that question, what did you come up with?” I teach at Vassar College, an educational institution where resources, need-blind admissions, multisyllabic disengagement, cocaine and curious students are in relative abundance. This semester, I challenged myself to do more than move my 60 students beyond traditional “either/or” binaries of feeling or thinking, critical analysis or creative writing, intellectualizing or confessing, radical or capitalist praxis. I was less invested in cultivating students who could critically interrogate text, faithfully imitate text, or courageously innovate text, and more concerned with making sure my students and I left the classroom, sentimental as it sounds, better at dreaming and loving unreasonably. Initially, I sourced my pedagogical shift to the freedom that accompanies publishing two bluesy black books in one year. But on November 3, a day after Renisha McBride was murdered with a shotgun blast through a screen door outside of Detroit, I realized that my pedagogical shift could be sourced to the reasonable murder of Trayvon Martin. - See more at:

Historic Hip Hop Album #8: Paid in Full by Eric B. and Rakim

(I’ve been looking forward to this one.)

If you’ve listened to the other entries in this series so far, you’ll notice that they’re rooted either in drum machines or RnB-style production. Paid in Full changed all that with the beginning of sampling exclusively, particularly that of the Godfather of Soul James Brown’s discography. Marley Marl’s innovation of doing so would become the standard template for beat production for the next several years.

But that’s not all. This record introduced the world to Rakim, an emcee who did something no other rapper is able to claim: Laying the foundation for rhyme and flow as we understand it today. Multisyllabic and internal rhyme first appeared extensively here, as well as the innovation of placing rhymes outside of the standard cadences that had been in use since the 70’s. A mere three years after Run-DMC revolutionized hip hop albums, they were old-school, and this record is the reason. The creation of so many new avenues for hip hop (and debatably elevated rap lyrics into an artform in and of themselves) gave this work the reputation of being one of the greatest and most quotable hip hop albums of all time. Did I mention a line from the title track also inspires my header quote?

On Spotify

On YouTube

My Linguistic Autobiography

For a town just shy of the Osage Reservation in northern Oklahoma, Bartlesville was predominately Caucasian. Imagine, for example, a loose-leaf paper—the town—and the white spaces in between the lines—the people. Native Americans were considered to be blots of ink to paper that the white spaces found disruptive. They wanted to stay between their lines—that is, without the blots. I grew up in that town for the first half of my adolescence; I was a white space on a loose-leaf paper, and I, unfortunately, never heard firsthand the tongue of the Siouan-speaking people, even though they practically were my neighbors. It’s a tongue that I’ve heard sounds earthly, the words rocks and the mouths speaking them the slow-moving barrel of a rock tumbler … earthly. So, no, I was not fortunate enough to hear organically such a dialect. Instead, I grew up around a southern drawl; any vowel, really, was stretched so that even the simplest of words sounded multisyllabic. Moving to Houston, Texas, was not too different from living in Bartlesville in that case—well, except for the many ethnicities and cultures that opened my ears to their dialects just by, proverbially speaking, putting pen to paper. I hadn’t heard before the syrupy thickness of a Hispanic dialect and accent; I hadn’t heard before the rough, boxy speech of someone from, what Houstonians would colloquially call, “the ghetto.” But for a white space like myself, those dialects wrote out the most beautiful stories, stories that spoke of a culture outside of the lines. There were some accents, though, that sounded so phonetically similar that they, like the letters of a cursive scrawl, were hard to separate. Even as an observational person, I can’t wave my finger of thought now and point out distinct differences between a Louisianan accent versus a Texan accent, though I know they are there, and I know that at some point I heard them. I can, however, distinctly remember one instance in elementary school when my teacher, a young woman with everything-is-bigger-in-Texas hair, a dimpled smile, and a twang to her voice, used the contraction “y’all” quite liberally, and I went home with the most curious expression on my face, informing my mother that my teacher yodeled in class. That was my first week in Texas, y’all. Imagine that.