Turns out that spaceships stand in for slave ships:

Echoes of Sun Ra and NOI [Nation of Islam] are audible in the music of George Clinton, who must have had both in mind when he transformed Parliament from a doo-wop group into a mother-ship-worshipping acid-funk congregation in the 1970s. Clinton’s mother ship, of course, was likelier to drop megatons of booty and cocaine than warheads, but hedonism wasn’t the only goal. In the opening bars of “Mother Ship Connection,” Clinton announces, “We have returned to claim the pyramids”—a nod to paleocontact theories, which hypothesize that ancient astronauts shared technological secrets with North Africans. Perceptible in this ripple of the Afronaut impulse is the yearning for and fantastical reclamation of an ennobling African history: A trip to space doubles as a return to roots.

The Afronaut universe, of course, comprises more performers than those mentioned here and extends beyond music, from the hero of Brother From Another Planet to Astronaut Jones, Tracy Morgan’s ridiculous SNL creation. Where hip-hop is concerned, though, the first Afronaut to speak of is Afrika Bambaataa. A gang leader turned community activist and DJ, Bambaataa spun Parliament-Funkadelic records alongside reggae, techno, and rock vinyl and wore elaborate African-Samurai-Cherokee-cyborg costumes doubtless inspired by the Arkestra. In the burnt-out South Bronx of the early ’80s, Bambaataa’s Afronaut mythology—championing Zulu valor and an interstellar utopianism—offered both racial pride and an escapist-hatch out of the bleak, inner-city quotidian.

The article failed to mention my personal favorite megaton of booty: Galaxy.

He’s mean! He’s like: “Oh what the fuck are you laughing at? You want some too? Huh?” And I love how he stops for a second to scratch his butt. Via Andrew Sullivan.

Some amazing pics from Brent Stirton, who documented the search party for four mountain gorillas killed in Eastern Congo last year. One of them was a silverback alpha male, the leader of the group, who was shot.

via we make money not art

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Thou shalt not get high and shoot guns while being shot at, k?

Via Rape Memo. It gets awesome when the blood starts flowing.

Patches

Great story with slideshow, about the homemade patches used by black ops troops:

Skulls. Black cats. A naked woman riding a killer whale. Grim reapers. Snakes. Swords. Occult symbols. A wizard with a staff that shoots lightning bolts. Moons. Stars. A dragon holding the Earth in its claws.

No, this is not the fantasy world of a 12-year-old boy.

It is, according to a new book, part of the hidden reality behind the Pentagon’s classified, or “black,” budget that delivers billions of dollars to stealthy armies of high-tech warriors. The book offers a glimpse of this dark world through a revealing lens — patches — the kind worn on military uniforms.

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“It’s a fresh approach to secret government,” Steven Aftergood, a security expert at the Federation of American Scientists in Washington, said in an interview. “It shows that these secret programs have their own culture, vocabulary and even sense of humor.”

One patch shows a space alien with huge eyes holding a stealth bomber near its mouth. “To Serve Man” reads the text above, a reference to a classic “Twilight Zone” episode in which man is the entree, not the customer. “Gustatus Similis Pullus” reads the caption below, dog Latin for “Tastes Like Chicken.”

Image by the book’s author, Trevor Paglen.

Gucci Gas MaskLouis Vutton Gas Mask

For you to wear with your bullet necklace while you sit on your Fully Loaded chair waiting for your Chanel guillotine.

Via Agenda.

Gun

From the source:

The laser light generated by this weapon illuminates or “dazzles” aggressors, temporarily impairing individuals and their ability to see the laser source.

Faaaabulous!!! Via Dark Roasted Blend.

prn.jpg

Someone with some limited photoshop ability proposes that porn is actually super heroines trying to kill each other. Whether you agree or disagree; suspend for a moment in internet weirdness with this Flickr set.

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DG superfriend Zack Soto pointed me towards this photo set of bow and arrow warfare in Kenya. It’s amazing how the tribes people seem to exist in two moments in time; one where bows and arrows are still a way of life and another where swatch watches and Abercrombie gear gets worn to the battlefield. Check out the link at the end of the post to the poor guy who got one in the face, or click here. Warning, graphic.