RD 1: dead man vs NYCSPITZ - DEAD MAN WINS!

[sral]

Welcome aboard motherfuckers!

This is the netcees.org S.T.I - named primarily because the majority of the board believe the topical side consists of homoerotic man poetry about rainbows and unicorns. We're here to hopefully dispel that myth once and for all! ...or confirm it, which would be equally lulzy for the casual reader but not so great for your reputations, I'd imagine.

Regardless, if you find yourself still here you can put that down to either my utter stupidity, blind belief you'll show up, or the fact you're a pretty sought after writer. Take your pick. I've assembled the greatest talent to still be doing this hallowed hobby of ours. This may well be the final opportunity for some of you to go out with a bang before retiring from text all together. For others this may be their greatest crowning achievement so far. Whichever category you fall into, I promise to pit you against some of the very best writers online and over the coming month I want you to prove why I was write to have invited you here ahead of an array of other writers that were denied their spot. It's time to show and prove, ladies.

This is where shit gets real!

House Rules:

16 lines minimum, 48 lines maximum. (if agreed upon by both participants, you may go beyond the limit at your own risk.)

Check Ins are due: Wednesday 11:59 PST (You MUST check in!)
Verses are due: FRIDAY 11:59 PST.
Votes are due: The following Monday!


PLEASE VOTE ON EVERY OTHER BATTLE! I'm not here to police you guys, but it doesn't hurt to vote and it also helps ensure we keep things moving around here - these tournaments are nothing without the support of you guys. Modding is often a thankless task, and I've put in a lot of work to make this happen for you all, don't let me down!

There is NO RECYCLING, BITING ETC. Pretty standard. I shouldn't have to tell you folks that.

First to post may edit verse until opponent posts his verse. Second to post may edit their verse up until the first vote is received.

TOPIC:
@dead man @NYCSPITZ

[dead man]

ok

[NYCSPITZ]

K

[dead man]

goodbye



Goosefeather pillowcases, California king
i never ask this sort of thing. but are you worth it?
Forever 21 the rings you stole to prove to your friends
you were something less than perfect. i confess
you confided. let's be honest, there was passion and soul
a shaky kitchen table and a bag of Merlot
a speaker and an ashtray and 2 boxes of smoke
a different color filter at the end of our ropes
we made a mental note to keep eachother engrossed
so i stared directly through you at the dinners we toasted
to friendship, scented candles and your husband's cologne
garlic chicken and okra. together here all alone
vanilla bean afterdinner coffee creamer and cake
sweating through the polyester, lying awake
i know that i'm the mistake. another habit to break
you only know me as a walk to the lake, and nevermore
traversing yards and alleys towards Chicago and State
vodka straight like residents at YMCA
speaking in languages like a secretive braille
you've got a world to share and yet i've kept it myself
i rejoice when you fail. although it's prideful as hell
the only thing depressing is depression itself.
i found you as an adolescent cradling dreams
acne on your forehead and a fade in your jeans
living for the 3:15 where life can resume
4-wall bedroom and a 20,000-league solitude
waiting for the crackle that a vinyl produces
palmside sobs at sundown. stay asleep until noon
lose faith, gain weight. alcohol and Gatorade
soak in salty serenade. in a panic to paraphrase
articulate anxiety. parents there to interrogate
spit into your face. wait a minute to let it marinate
blank face to strangers and your lovers alike
getting up from bed to leave your husband at night
another gel capsule for a moment of rest
snap photographs of moments that you hope to forget
i'm a stone in your chest. nosy and possessive at best
stay with me. stay alone. stay or face consequence
you're an island in the rain. and you're an island in sun
the tattoo on your wrist should be reminder enough
surrounded in sorrow by all the people you love
so you lie and say you only need some time to adjust
what a joke. i've been questioning the point of it all
flip a coin, let it fall. that's the choice you're presented
i'm the voice. i'm a question mark. to live or to liberate
you haven't emptied a dinnerplate since we started to speak
talk to me. talk to nobody but cradle me slow
we're only free if we escape. this much i know.



- dead man

[NYCSPITZ]

Well,



I keep the peace in Centra-2, steady deforming the truth
Helped by legions of Sentrel Troops - "PLEASE CONFORM AS A GROUP"
in this bubble, the last domed city, they're docile as sheep
- but the latest person whose mind started throbbing is me.
No thoughts of retreat; you could just read the dockets and weep!
so the masses never ever connect their dots to a dream...
as CHANCELLOR OF THOUGHTS SUPREME I'm in control of the ship
so they inject NoxFloid-6 (read:may cause carnal bliss and chortling wits)
they'll never know the whole that exists so let them rest in their lies
cuz we're alllllll that's left of the bio-war. Earth is destined to die.
but...I did just meet a woman in the flow of a dream
her eyes bore into my own in loving knowing, serene
but the image is cloudlike; and since has presided as phantom -
while I bang hordes of prosti-borgs inside of my mansion
I think about the high council and its odorous lies
...how we painted the inside of our dome as a sky
cyber-tubes morph to moon or light's greatness inside
and as construction finished - became man's last place to reside.
so as I sit injecting pure NoxFloid (crystal 12) I start to laugh with my pain
as blood clouds into that tube then rushes back to my veins
wracking my brain, the pressure seeps out into willowy bliss
and my mind sharpens til all the little pieces brilliantly fit
dignity shift - all these small puppets are fidgety shits
I'm the man, GOD IN THIS SHIT and their captivity's slick
we're just aberrations of nature, just facsimiles clipped
out of consciousness - whose fabric was eventually ripped
born of pressure from nothingness, a trick of death or the hare?
life or the reaper; sight this creature who was made self-aware
born to control and climb, I simply heed to the call...
wonder without giving a fuck whether there's meaning at all
so my men calculate in high science - amidst this rubble they rush
we've got at least...eight years before we crumble to dust
but as the rush fades away I delve inside of my fears
stumbling upon a vial of Vera-Tru that I've been hiding for years
in an instant I concocted a strange plan which might be feeble to try
grit my teeth - smiled a bit and plunged the needle inside
500 milligrams of banned substance then pumped to my veins
I didn't feel euphoric glory - but the rush was insane
****SIRENS BLARED****. My droids' eyes all flashed red and poised for attack
hmmm...it seems certain high council members left this joyous old trap
dodging lasers and claws I ran upstairs, my face swelling enflamed
dispatching bots. I learned well from my hallowed neighbor HEAD BRINGER OF PAIN
I felt the wind from deadly beams flying by my temples and ears
made it to the control room! Slammed the door and stood with trembling tears.
I pushed the big red button which gave life to my Visi-Board
which connected to all the others. Necks snapped to attention as I talked to the many hordes:
"That we've been living a lie is the first fact. But there are many more..."




.

[Vulgar]

dead man - A word that springs to mind is 'analog' and 'beatnik' as well when thinking over what I just read. Memories of youth, teenage flings, adolescent romances, culminate into the domain of adult affairs. You portrayed the lessons and inherent frailties of cheating, and why it confuses and sets us back. Sexual satisfaction goes away quickly. "Together here all alone" was a great snippet that captures the main theme of the verse. A temporary, baseless rendezvous, reoccurring over weekends and half holidays. The structural style, I feel, gave it more of an open window feel. The room for interpretation seems to extend when lines and rhymes aren't regimented, controlled. My other favorite piece was '20,000 league solitude' in a bedroom. It captures the sensation of being alone in a room, and how that room becomes the world, so detached from everything else outside of it. Especially if the walls are white, for some reason. As far as the topic goes, you were on target, of course. This was a nicely written verse with a patient, light effect. The beginning, middle, and end were all solid.

NYCSPITZ - This was a fairly vintage verse from you, I thought. The first scenes explain the environment and the character's identity, and from there, he narrates his way into an exciting fighting sequence (not samurais this time, jk) and you implement an interesting genre device. In this case, science fiction, where a dome houses humans and robots, or everyone is a cyborg in their own way. This is a panopticon where the thought chancellor controls what is perceived as truth. It's the allegory of the cave, but the futuristic version and with less space for philosophical dialogue. The mechanics weren't as tight as dead man's, I felt. In some spots, i.e. 'fidgety shits' and 'odorous lies' you seemed to sacrifice content for flow. 'Chortling wits' was also a slight let-down from the other stellar build up you were producing. One of the things is you love to rhyme, so you focus heavily on transmitting a certain cadence consistently. I think in order for your more ambitious ideas to get through successfully, you might have to adapt to a less rhyme-heavy style, at least for the intricate sci fi storylines. Just my two cents. You have pulled off the approach before with other work, but the lines were shorter and there wasn't a final action sequence like here. Let me try an analogy here... in James Bond movies, there's usually a vacation scene, like when he's on the beach with Halle Berry. I think intermissions like that add to an overall piece, and slow down the pacing enough for us to enjoy the journey more. Even if it's a microfiction action flick, a small sub-plot can't hurt. The god of this dome world becomes a whistleblower at the end, and it suggests that they will be liberated or destroyed; reminds me of the end of the film I, Robot which has a cliffhanger, but we know what's probably going to ensue afterwards. Overall, I liked it, but I don't think it got the best of dead man's verse.

Vote - dm

It held together as a hivework collage of contemporary cheating. NYC had ambitious eyes set on the horizon of a sci fi thriller, but it lacked tendon strength, and I wasn't completely convinced due to some loose ends with rhyme schemes and diction.

[Pinot Grij]

Dead Man. You're making me work pretty damn hard to understand what's happening here.

I think the pillows themselves would be made of goosefeathers, not the pillowcases, right?

I like the description in this verse - lines chopped up, banal details given center stage.. it really captures the feel of a fucked up relationship that messes with you for being in it. Like, the continuing confusion of being a part of something that one know is wrong - that feeling resonated throughout the piece.

i know that i'm the mistake. another habit to break

I like this a lot.

i found you as an adolescent cradling dreams
acne on your forehead and a fade in your jeans
living for the 3:15 where life can resume
4-wall bedroom and a 20,000-league solitude
waiting for the crackle that a vinyl produces
palmside sobs at sundown. stay asleep until noon
lose faith, gain weight. alcohol and Gatorade
soak in salty serenade. in a panic to paraphrase
articulate anxiety. parents there to interrogate
spit into your face. wait a minute to let it marinate
blank face to strangers and your lovers alike
getting up from bed to leave your husband at night

I feel like the verse loses its way somewhere in here. Like, the progression of the female from an adolescent and then suddenly she's slipping out of bed to cheat on her husband. It felt weird to me. I think the "paraphrase, interrogate, marinate" section doens't really help your storyline.. I don't know what you're getting at with this part, but I feel like the story could've been more lucid here to help me get over the story's hump. Also, all bedrooms have four walls - I would've liked 4-wall apartment better.

snap photographs of moments that you hope to forget

This felt a little self-indulgent to me. Like, poetically it sounds nice but that's about it.

i'm a stone in your chest. nosy and possessive at best
stay with me. stay alone. stay or face consequence
you're an island in the rain. and you're an island in sun
the tattoo on your wrist should be reminder enough
surrounded in sorrow by all the people you love
so you lie and say you only need some time to adjust
what a joke. i've been questioning the point of it all
flip a coin, let it fall. that's the choice you're presented
i'm the voice. i'm a question mark. to live or to liberate
you haven't emptied a dinnerplate since we started to speak
talk to me. talk to nobody but cradle me slow
we're only free if we escape. this much i know.

I thought you finished very strongly.. there's a lot of conflict and tension in these lines. Your speaker knows that he's wrong for the female, but still wants more. Neverthelss, he is willing to exist in this stasis because he's waiting for her to make the decision, for her to choose.

Spitz, this storyline is right up my alley with the dystopian future angle. character is introduced strongly.. I have a big problem with the phrase "chortling wits" though. Sounds awful. There were other great turns of phrase in here though.

as blood clouds into that tube then rushes back to my veins
wracking my brain, the pressure seeps out into willowy bliss
and my mind sharpens til all the little pieces brilliantly fit

Great description and the line's cadence brings the message home strongly.

500 milligrams of banned substance then pumped to my veins
I didn't feel euphoric glory - but the rush was insane

once again, this just feels like great storytelling.

The resolution was really good, I think. This has the feel of Logan's Run or Total Recall but still totally stands apart as its own unique narrative. The Vera-Tru being left as bait is a fun angle.. its as if your speaker flew too close to the sun. I had a lot of fun reading this verse.

I'm leaning more towards Spitz because of the playful, engaging nature of his narrative. I felt like I was in a sci-fi movie. I also envy the thought and construction of Dead Man's dense emotional drama. Overall, I'm somehow touched by its hazy, ethereal feel and how that relates to the nature of the wrongness of the relationship in the verse. That correlation between style and content is pretty cool.

This is a hard one to judge but I'm edging my vote to NYCSPITZ

[Pent uP]

Deadman - I dont remember how to vote....I just read your verse several times and enjoyed it. Specifically the wording, but I feel like praising a writer for good wording is like praising a chef for using fresh ingrediants. I guess what I liked about this (and your writing in general) is that the themes are very human and come from raw expierence or observation. Cinematic flashes of interesting points in a long term, unofficial, relationship and the narrators internal turmoil towards their affairs. I dont know what else to say other than it was an enjoyable read.

NYC - i took this as an allegory more than anything. Masses of people kept distracted by noxfoid - though in your verse its a regulated drug it could stand for anything from sheepy tv channels to drugs themselves. Whatever popular things are keeping the masses distracted such as the coincidental release of pokemongo the day hilary clinton was announced to not be prosecuted for treason. Though the narrator was the man in charge here (seemingly) he saw that, through banned substances (real news outlets, maybe?), life was worse off than it seemed. Something (assumably, you didnt get there) that could be fixed.

I know my interpretation of NYCs verse isnt 100% and its skewed by my own imagination, but I feel the point is more than driven here. When it comes down to choosing its difficult for me. Deadman had something that hooked me and tempted me to re-read and re-enjoy. NYC had a thought provoking concept that I re-read to reimagine. Nothing necessarily wrong with either but I enjoyed

Deadman more


All typos are because fat thumbs new phone

[UnbornBuddha]

This was a nice battle.

Deadman: The verse was nice, but it did read similar thematically to some of your other verses. The ambiance of Chicago streets, for example. But I enjoyed it, it was more tightly knitted than NYC's. And it had much more emotion to it, that was more internal. But it wasn't as large scope as NYC's.

NYC: Like I commented to Deadman, your verse was less filtered. It extended itself more, but sometimes to a fault. There was also some strange wording that I'm not sure even this dystopian leader would say. That said this reminded me of this Sylvester Stalone movie I recently watched. Your verse also had flashes of Aldous Huxley's dystopian novel, Brave New World. And despite some of the knee jerk wording, I loved the premise. And though it conveyed emotion, it was more bombastic. Therefore less relatable, but I love these kinds of themes.

So I think Deadman had the more concise writing, but NYC was more daring and bold in his approach.

I give it to: NYCSPITZ

[RichardCorey]

I'm starting to notice a pattern here.

There are a lot of guys here who are good, like fine. They're great.

But then there's this group who're on a whooooole different level.

Holy shit dead man.

I could sit and just talk about the subtle rhyme scheme alone. Those false hanging rhymes tho'!:

Originally Posted by dead man

vanilla bean afterdinner coffee creamer and cake
sweating through the polyester, lying awake
i know that i'm the mistake. another habit to break
you only know me as a walk to the lake, and nevermore

Some people would think that "nevermore" ain't supposed to be there, but that's masterfully played right there.

The flow. The rhymes. The cadence and imagery, all next level shit.

The story itself seemed to be from the perspective of the speaker and his relationship with a married woman (one he's known since they've been kids) who seems unable, or unwilling to admit she needs to get her life together.

the story is in the description of this woman's life. And we get a very well rounded individual: all her good points and bad, from youth to adulthood. The basic question of the piece comes from the speaker simply asking: Are you worth it?

My interpretation of the piece is that it's a way to prove that one's worth is proven through his or her own life's works. In the end, it's up to you to prove your own worth.

Now this isn't to say that NYCSPITZ was bad, hell no, his shit was good. I loved the piece as a sci-fi dystopian view of how things can go bad when the general populace stops asking questions and allows the controlling few free reign.

This story reminds me a lot of my Utopia series withe the same mood and themes and, for hip hop heads at least, it should always be a story that one of us tells.

That being said (and just like I mentioned in another vote) dead man was just the better writer. And it had NOTHING to do with Spitz being bad. He had a way more imaginative story (I loved the idea of the serum), dead man just had a better grasp for technique and more sound writer's voice.

good shit from both tho'

v/ dead man

[Cimmerian]

dead man

I took your take on the topic to be that it's more convenient to stay in a dysfunctional relationship rather than face the harsh reality of the dysfunction and break up. You displayed a great flow, voice, and flashes of detailed imagery to convey emotion. Beyond being a nice way to set the stage with imagery, I'm not sure if goosefeather pillow cases on a California-king sized bed fit in the piece when compared to the rest of the imagery which depicted a more middle class lifestyle with a "shaky" table and a bag of merlot as opposed to a bottle.

Anyway, it was a good verse.

NYCSPITZ

I read it as a mash-up of Equilibrium, starring Christian Bale, and Rowdy Roddy Piper's cult classic, They Live. It had a cool cliff hanger. It was difficult to follow some the intri***ies. There was also some phrasing that could be improved. For example, "odorous lies."

It was a good verse but I enjoyed the flow and imagery of dead man's verse a tad more.

Vote: dead man

[PancakeBrah]

Quick vote.

Battle of the week and it's not particularly close. What a show. We knew dead man would write like he did, same for NYC. Almost a coin flip. Not just saying that, most battles this week were pretty obvious to me. Dead man wrote a dead man verse, with the perfect one off one liners sprinkled in between perfect phrasing and subtle, complex rhyme mechanics. A high percentage of quotables in this one, all hitting on the themes he's always on about. NYC wrote a straight narrative, one of the best verses I've seen from him in some time. All very smooth, creative flourishes that enhance the futuristic scene. A great flow. My only problem I found was that I felt the first half was noticeably better than the second half. Both were good, but noticeable. Dead man was even through out, consistent. A strong momentum to the piece. A shame one of these verses have to be a loser. Sorry for quick breakdown, with such hackneyed critical concepts. Deserves in depth. Thanks for the reads fellas.

V/dead man

[Eŋg]

black - vintage form. i read this from the ambivalent perspective of a conflicted lover making a triangle of a hollow, somewhat false marriage where the female is inevitably damaged. aren't we all, though? there was an element of preying on her hurt - that could be way off, but there are a few reasons why i came to this conclusion - ultimately, the narrative is secondary to the writing for me. yet, the two existing in synergy can bolster certain lines:

i'm a stone in your chest. nosy and possessive at best
stay with me. stay alone. stay or face consequence

the duality here, particularly of chest (and to a lesser extent stone) just worked almost perfectly for me. a really resounding couplet. a few lines after, the subtle tattoo on the wrist as failed suicide note was stellar. a few hiccups in the cadence, if i'm being a pedant, but this was very good throughout. i'm liking your slightly less formulaic shit -- more inconvenient truths than reassuring lies.

nyc - this was some gangsta shit. even if it has a slightly ridiculous setting (which you invented perhaps for creative freedoms idk) the premise of the innate unrest even for an intoxicated official immersed fully, if ignorantly, within a conforming dystopia was profound. it speaks on a human condition many could, or should relate to at varying degrees. the writing rang with the idea of 'relax and consume' and there was a fairly solid arc formed, in verse, from beginning to end - though conceptually i question the necessity of a different drug to self-substantiate. i guess there's some precedence if already pumping your veins full of chemicals, and there was a fail-safe (the robots turning) to punish such an action. top notch storytelling throughout, good imagery, consumable narrative with real energy in its rhythm and movement. i think you might have lost a bit of general steam toward the end, but was satisfied with the resolution. as an aside: if the drugs were a reassuring lie, as per the topic, where was the possibility of an inconvenient truth? not swallowing the pill?

a close one, if nyc had kept the initial venom he started with throughout, i'd have probably tossed him the vote on this one. gonna go with black instead.

[Certain]

dead man: Your verses often come across as nonspecific collages of emotional portraits. What I loved about this one is that it never did. Here, you stayed within your safety net of metaphorical relationship angst and growing up and ennui mixed with deep regret, but you kept the story line in place with a specificity that didn’t feel like a gimmick but instead fleshed out all the details that sometimes come across as so vague in your work. Basically, this is the best version of the prototype dead man verse. Among my favorite lines:

Forever 21 the rings you stole to prove to your friends
you were something less than perfect. i confess
you confided. let's be honest, there was passion and soul
a shaky kitchen table and a bag of Merlot
a speaker and an ashtray and 2 boxes of smoke
a different color filter at the end of our ropes
we made a mental note to keep eachother engrossed
so i stared directly through you at the dinners we toasted
to friendship, scented candles and your husband's cologne
…
i know that i'm the mistake. another habit to break
you only know me as a walk to the lake, and nevermore
traversing yards and alleys towards Chicago and State
i rejoice when you fail. although it's prideful as hell
the only thing depressing is depression itself.
…
blank face to strangers and your lovers alike
getting up from bed to leave your husband at night
another gel capsule for a moment of rest
snap photographs of moments that you hope to forget

The extended metaphor is what makes it all so special. You whisper toward it. You never come out and say it. But the verse reads so clearly and cleanly when it’s presented and realized. I was about halfway through the second read when it clicked. I needed some form of explanation for the line about the teen years, and the entire verse came together all at once. (Alas, I’ve been wrong about these things before, so I may be reading into something unintended.) If I’m wrong, shame on me. From my skimming to count the other votes, it did not appear anyone else put it together.

Either way, this verse was beautiful. It holds up with or without the metaphor. There is an argument to be made that the article avoided the visual cues of the topic in favor of its meaning, which I also chose to do. I’m not a fan of image topics that include words, but I think this verse jibes well with the meaning of the cartoon. I would warn you, though it was not the case here, that if NYCSPITZ had captured the image better as a whole even with a lesser verse, this match could have swung against you because you did not match the tone or the visual and instead stuck strictly to the meaning.

NYCSPITZ: You are a great world-builder. You developed a very well-built science fiction backdrop here, somewhere between The Matrix, Battlestar Galactica and Harrison Bergeron. Your choice of fictionalized proper nouns showed a lot of thought into how people would interpret those things and form their own mental images. I don’t know if this is the first time you’ve considered the world this stuff was set in, but that was great.

You also are a very good —not quite great —storyteller. You move action well, and you maintain lyrical technique and unique turns of phrase, though not at the same level as when you have less plot-heavy content. Still, you’re good at telling the story, keeping the reader engaged. What you’re not as good at is figuring out where you want to take the reader. Here, you built up this spectacular world in a short space, then led us to an anti-conclusion that felt rushed. A little more exposition, either direct or indirect, would have helped us place what happened when your narrator took the truth serum.

Anyway, this story was rather impressive. You made me think for a second about my vote, which says a lot considering you were going against a top-level verse by this site’s best writer. You did a good job of building off the topic, but I think a more tonal and literal interpretation with the same level of storytelling and world-building would have been necessary for me to let that lead to my vote. You could have beaten most people this round —I’d say your verse was the sixth-best, off the top of my head. So there’s no shame here. It was a tough matchup.

Vote: dead man

[sral]

7-2 DEAD MAN WINS