Plus, I still expected Karen to stop tripping
I’m always thinking about rhythm as I write: the flow of sentences and thoughts, the way you break up a lengthy sequence of clauses with a short, punchy sentence (and sentiment) like this one. Dondi can wax expansive one second, and boil everything down in simplest terms the next.
On a larger level, the relationship of flow and rupture is absolutely crucial to the way I think about hip hop aesthetics on the page. The embrace of rupture by hip hop generation artists is one of the most brilliant and distinctive moves in the arsenal, and it exists in all the artforms, from deejaying to b-boying: the kids who invented all this shit understood that their lives and their art would be interrupted by outside forces – criminalized, basically. So rather than allow the rupture to destroy and disrupt, they folded it into the artforms, took pleasure in it. Think of the way the flow of a b-boy routine always ends in a freeze that summarizes the entire performance, or the way that cutting a record literally interrupts the forward progression of time. Or the way graffiti artists dissected letters into fragments. These are ways of embracing rupture, making it fly.
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