by The Spin
We pride ourselves on our reckless abandon, our flagrant disregard for our own safety and our unflagging willingness to do stupid shit to keep you, our dear readers, entertained in the face of adversity. We are an unstoppable force on a incorruptible mission -- we stare adversity in the eyes, inhale its foul breath and rip off its nose with our teeth. We are The Spin and there is no way that we'll be impeded by something as silly as inclement weather! Well, except for this week. We totally bailed on the Clipse show at Phatkaps this Friday.
But we'd like to report that it did, in fact, happen, and there was, in fact, a crowd, and we are, in fact, total chumps for thinking the show wouldn't be worth risking life and limb. How do we know this, you ask? Because it was on the frakkin' Interwebs, that's how! Yep, thanks to that venerable ol' set o' tubes -- the live vodcasting site Ustream, to be exact -- we know that we are officially the biggest cowards in town and that we shouldn't have let a little thing like a three-car pileup at the end of our block -- or a 17-car pile up on I-24 -- deter us from a catchin' a sweet show. (Also, we learned that just because the cops are on our street, they might not be looking for us. Who knew?)
We're not saying that a 400-pixel rectangle of streaming video was even a passable substitute for attending an actual show -- it's a single camera shot, and the sound is so distorted it made Clipse sound like Throbbing Gristle, which is kinda cool. But after an entire day spent working ourselves into a tin-foil-hat, paranoiac lather -- complete with mental images of the Spin-Mobile wrapped around the pylons at the Bell Rd. I-24 interchange and the voice of Mama Spin scolding us, "You shoulda got dem brakes fixed!" -- it was a relief to see that somebody -- anybody -- else made it out to the show. Those four dudes at the bottom of that little video frame were proof that at least some in this town weren't afraid of the big bad Snowpocalypse.
By the time the Twitter pics started making the rounds, showing the Phatkaps' lounge full of people, we were kicking ourselves for not going. When we saw the picture of Clipse's Pusha standing out in the parking lot, we knew we had missed the biggest opportunity for bad puns in our young lives -- y'know, Clipse and cocaine and frozen precipitation ... the jokes just write themselves! And by the time Malice and Pusha T walked offstage and beyond the sight of that little pixel window, we knew that technology had saved the day. When nature had done its worst, when the universe had aligned to stop us from enjoying what we love most, Phatkaps and the Internet stepped in to make everything A-OK. Good looking out, Internet. Good looking out, Phatkaps. From here on out, nothing short of the earth opening up and swallowing us whole is going to keep us from doing our job.