From the verses of Shakespeare to the violence of Football, a soft hand on the nape of my neck to a rim's hard rattle after a dunk, the mute of Miles to the rhymes of Rakim, Hershey's chocolate to a garlic peppered, cedar-planked salmon, Joel Dias-Porter's thoughts scatter like grains of black sand across a wind-blown beach.
Monday, June 17, 2024
The HyperQBist Revolution is Here
Can’t won’t don’t stop rocking to the rhythm, because I get down, because I get down.
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