The year was 96 and the trunk was raw

Today, on my facebook status, I wrote “I can’t decide which song is better, Tupac’s Changes or David Bowie’s Changes”.

That led to a heated geek argument (geek-bate) between two sides, each taking the snobby “you don’t know nothing about music” stance, which is, really, the only stance one can take when arguing movies/music/art/culture (nothing is more pretentious and weaksauce than fake-polite debates over music and then throwing a IMHO at the end. Fuck that, you argue, you gotta take the snobby “Man you taste is crap, I’ve forgotten more than you know” approach).

Almost as if this was playing the stereotype to a tee, a brotha is arguing the rap is better side while the Bowie side is backed by a British dude and some other chicks with British-backgrounds.

As I scrolled down my status to see comment after comment with subtle jabs, I wanted to crack a comment about them taking things way too seriously,  but then I realized OH YEAH, I DO THE SAME WITH BASKETBALL TALK, only 7 times more intense.

this goes on for a bit longer. We go on to talk about how The Roots are one of the few legit hip hop acts…until last year when they sold their soul and mortgaged their credibility to be JIMMY FALLON’S HOUSEBAND. Then we got to talk about the relevance of rap-rock. A good ol’ music debate, on my status. I think we at 15 comments now.

But obviously, still no match for THIS.

This was taken at 96, the number blew to 100+ before it got too heated between my friends and I and we both apologized afterwards. That’s what we do. We argue about basketball, both taking the “I know more than you” approach, it always gets a bit chippy and personal because both of us are cocky motherfuckers (when it comes to sports, anyway) at heart, and then a day or two later we apologize to one another because we’re great friends and we secretly respect one another for not backing down from our respective stance. Hell, I once threw a punch at this friend–over basketball, of course–and then three days later we bumped fist like nothing happened.

And that’s the point. When you like something, you gotta be passionate at it, to a point that you’re willing to argue over it. Otherwise, GO HOME.

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