Maggot Brain drowns in his own sh*t.

Uncle Jam himself, George Clinton, was arrested Saturday in Tallahassee for possession of cocaine and a crack pipe. Clinton admitted to the charges, so we can't treat him as President of Stankonia, political prisoner, but rather as an aging hipster whose considerable luster is fading fast.

What the hell, George?

I mean, acid, pot, shrooms, peyote, even straight coke was excusable for a man of your station. It was the '60s. It was the '70s. It was the '80s. You're Starchild, Mr. Wiggles, The Long Song, The Bop Gun, leader of the Funkonauts and purveyor of the wisdom of the pyramids. You found the One. You backed up the booty and spanked that ass. Your face is on the funky dollar bill. Your mother did the Cosmic Slop. You entered the Nappy Dugout and the Witches' Castle and came out alive. You tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe. You turned on the flashlight and funkatized millions. You're the greatest huckster, talent scout, songwriter, and pussy hound a barber college ever produced. You made William "Bootsy" Collins into BOOTSY COLLINS, Funkzilla. You made Bernie Worrell's right hand into Beethoven and his left hand into a porn star. You made Mudbone Cooper, Gary Shider, Eddie Hazel, and a cast of thousands into a host of multicolored angels. When Dre and Snoop boosted your sound, that was cool. They brought you along for the ride. You're a king to us all.

You made doo-wop into funk, and funk into funkadelic. You put the funk into rock and the rock into funk. You put Three Blind Mice and Old Macdonald on the dancefloor.

Even when your powers diminished, we kept faith. We bought "Hey Man.... Smell My Finger" and "T.A.P.O.A.F.O.M." We came to see you again, and again, and again, as the P-Funk All-Stars Tour Without End kept rolling like the greatest medicine show, tent revival, circus, and swingers' party the world has ever seen.

And yet, in the end, maybe you didn't rise above it all like you vowed you would back in '71. Even then we knew it was a huckster thing, but it's still sad to see.

Crack?

Crack? I mean, dude. You know who does crack? Crackheads.

Posted by Johno Johno on   |   § 0

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