Death Of A Fool(io)
A chap called Charles Jones, but known to many (not to me) with his non-art name as Julio Foolio, was killed in Tampa on Sunday morning.
You can click the link and see whether this guy looks like an intelligent member of society. To me, he looks merely like another idiot who just happened to get the inevitable on his birthday celebration.
You will notice the smartness here. Guy was open about being a gang member, but also was ready to give the address of his birthday celebration to every idiot who asked. Most likely, so many people turned in that he was kicked out of the AirBnB place, or venue, by the police. Then the quest for a place to keep the party going went on until, at 4 in the morning, the guy was gunned down. Whilst I don’t have the details, it seems that Einstein here absolutely wanted his killers to know about his whereabouts in real time.
But this post is not about this idiot. This was just another cretin who bargained a short phase of some luxury and excess for his life. This is about the whole world that is around this, and feeds this rubbish.
One million Spotify monthly listeners. Don’t tell me this is for artistic or musical reasons, because in rap there is neither. This is about gangster fantasies, and the glorification of a criminal lifestyle, and the fact that apparently there are people who love to idolise these cretins. Heavens, look at that picture! How can such a tool be idolised by anyone other than his (likely single) mother and his 65 IQ friends!?
Go back to 1960, or 1910, or 1860. Can you imagine an age in which a “singer” could be a criminal, admit it, and make money not in spite of it, but *exactly because of it*? Of course, criminality has always fascinated a certain, often low-intelligence segment of the population. Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde, the Mafia always had a sort of selling power, and the domestic servants loved to heart about their antics. But you did not have a guy saying: “I rob banks, hear me sing!”, and make a lot of money because of it. When singers were famous, it’s because they still had talent, and the alleged more or less direct, more or less true, link to criminality (think of Frank Sinatra, or Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons) were not the reason why they were famous. The reason why they were famous was the sheer talent.
Not in 2024. In 2024 you can look and sing like a troglodyte, and get 1 million Spotify hits a month.
Until you get gunned down, of course.
But then the next genius is already waiting.
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Posted on June 24, 2024, in Traditional Catholicism. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.
Mundabor's Blog 
Nothing helps a rap “singer’s” fame and career like getting murdered.
We live in insane, even diabolical times. I was talking to a friend after Mass yesterday about her daughter, a mother of 13 and grandmother of many, a lovely and devout Catholic mom. Her three oldest children won’t speak to her and tell her she needs counseling. Many other parents at our chapel are experiencing the same thing with some of their adult children.
This event you speak of is one more example of the rotten fruit of the breakdown of the family and the attack on both the unborn and parental authority. Many of the criminals of today were raised in fatherless homes without authority. Many go to gangs for the sense of belonging to a family. Even the terminology of the Mafia dons confirms it.
A priest recently said during a Marriage Mission, “If you want to fix the culture fix marriage.” The family starts with two young people in love. But how many marriages are finished in only a year or two or even two weeks.
I’m praying for marriage today. A culture is only as strong as its first building block — the family. And the strength of the family starts with the quality of the marriage. Every week at the end of the rosary we pray for “many holy priests, many holy religious vocations, and many holy Catholic families.” I make that my frequent petition. We need holy Catholic marriages to raise holy Catholic children, to have a holy society recognizing the reign of Christ the King.
The dear departed looked like someone only Hieronymus Bosch could have imagined in former times. I could never have conceived of even a cartoon caricature like this poor fellow before seeing the photo (to put it mildly.)