WOW: Paz's wiki entry

Someone vandalized his page and wrote this. I went to quote it, but when I went back to the page Wikipedia had all ready removed it. So I went back in my history before the page was fixed.

Someone has way too much time on their hands...

Quote

Mythology
One thousand seven-hundred and seventy-four years after the death of Christ, a little-known but powerful prophet was born in the slums of Ramallah in an occupied Gaza Strip. This new prophet was the son of an impoverished prostitute/butter churner and an absentee father who was touring the ancient land of Babylonia on camel-back, spreading the world of Islam and murdering the snitches that stood between him and the war against the infidel hordes. The father named his son Vincenzo Pazienzo, a traditional Arabic name first given to one of Mohammad’s many illegitimate children. Vincenzo’s mother struggled to support her son, who had a feverish appetite for vegan food difficult to come by in the Occupied Territories. Additionally, he was unable to attend school due to lack of funds and behavioral problems (Vincenzo often called fellow students “faggots” and threatened to “unleash an army of bees” on their person).

Despite this, Vincenzo showed a keen intelligence even at a young age, and an affinity for the holy scripture. At the tender age of five he was reciting quotes from the Koran and at the age of seven was able to read the book in pitch darkness, a skill that even the most powerful imams did not claim to possess. As such, Vincenzo was taken from his modest Ramallah home and sent to Cario, Egypt where he would be educated on Islamic thought in a small private academy located within the pyramids themselves. Although Vincenzo showed considerable success in all subjects of study, he especially excelled in poetry. Vincenzo’s writing was marked by his use of poignant metaphors and imagery recalling a young Wordsworth or a William Carlos Williams. Even at a young age, Vincenzo wrote poems on subjects as diverse as eloheims, Torahs, and his relationship to his mother (which – Vincenzo points out – was adequate).

In the fall of his tenth year, Vincenzo’s mother decided to claim refugee status and leave to the US as Israel-Egyptian tensions escalated for the first time since 1967. The two boarded the vessel “Kublain Khan” which set sail for the Dead Sea and eventually the Gulf and Indian Ocean. Leaving with nothing besides a copy of the Koran and a gat scavenged from a dead Israeli soldier, Vincenzo was deeply insecure and generally afraid for the future. Instead of studying about Ancient Egyptian Prophecies in the comfort of his own pyramid, Vincenzo was off to a strange land populated by Christians, Mennonites, and homosexuals.

In an unexpected turn of events, a leakage in the hull of the Kublain forced the crew to dock in a small Portuguese fishing town. Vincenzo’s mother, desperately hungry due to ration malnourishment, went to the nearest inn to plead for food. What followed was one of the most profound turning points in the young prophet’s life. At the door of the Inn, the son and mother were greeted by two handsome middle-aged men who introduced themselves as Felipe and Fernando. Despite the language barrier, the two kind strangers began to understand the trouble and let Vincenzo and his mother into their home, sitting them in their well-furnished and immaculately designed living room. As Fernando sat beside them on his self-made wicker chair and attempted to communicate the nuances of interior design to his bewildered guests, Felipe rushed off to the kitchen to prepare a feast for the travelers.

Unbeknownst to them, Felipe had spent the morning carefully marinating a glazed ham bought from the local butcher shop. He had also prepared a delicious Caesar salad (served with a fine Italian vinaigrette) and potato wedges. Felipe rushed the appetizers to his hungry guests and watched them quickly devour the American-inspired Portuguese delicacies as he and Fernando sat by in awe. Before long, the salad and wedges were eaten, and Felipe retrieved the ham and brought it out to his guests on an impressive silver platter. He smiled and sliced a few pieces to put on Vincenzo and his mother’s plate. Both guests, still hungry from the trip, cut into the meat and took a bite. Vincenzo was first to notice the strange taste – a delicious but off taste he had never experienced eating the mutton and snake flesh of his past. Slowly chewing, he looked at his equally-concerned mother and stopped. The meat fell out of his mouth and onto the plate. Standing up with a shattering silence, Vincenzo yelled “SWINE FLESH!” in a loud and forceful Arabic. Accompanied by a biting yell, the boy pulled out his gat and unleashed the entire clip in Fernando’s soft and supple body. Blood spattered everywhere – on the table, the wall, and on his partner’s neatly-trimmed moustache. Continuing his crime of passion, Vincenzo threw down the gat and unsheathed a battleaxe which had inexplicably appeared on his person. With a quick thrust, Vincenzo gouged Felipe’s well-defined pectorals with the rusty blade. Soon the man’s beautiful frame collapsed to the floor, and a young Vincenzo remained with his mother, gasping and admiring the work of his sudden anger.

Vincenzo’s mother, first quiet from shock, collapsed into a sob that rose above the dead silence of the now-bloody living room. Vincenzo remained blank, his eyes burning a deep brown and his face expressionless. Felipe’s remains were still freshly strewn about the cabin and his blood dripped off the blade of Vincenzo’s axe. Besides the sound of dripping blood and his mother’s crying, not another noise was heard.

“Why did you this Vinnie?” his mother asked in between sobs, her hijab soaking with sweat and crocodile tears. “Why, oh why did you do such a thing?”

Vincenzo remained expressionless. “If my father was still alive,” he started, “He wouldn’t stand for this.”

Vincenzo’s mother shook her son’s words off and grabbed his arm. “Quickly!” she said. “We have to leave before the Portuguese authority gets word of this! Allah protect us!”

And so Vincenzo was off on another adventure. Wanted for the murder of two leading Portuguese interior designers, Vincenzo and his mother knew that their capture would lead to grave consequences. The two were determined to make it to the state of Montana where they imagined no authority would dare look for them, and if they did they would undoubtedly face harsh terrain and a vicious aboriginal population. Inasmuch, the two roamed the Portuguese countryside looking for a vessel that would take them to America. Finding only dinghies and alligators, Vincenzo and his mother were about to give up hope and turn themselves into the local authorities. Thankfully for Vincenzo and the art of music in general, he did not succumb to such a blatantly homosexual fate. At the last moment, the two desperate travelers ran into another convict – a chubby Puerto Rican beatmaker that introduced himself as Kevin Baldwin. This man, for which Vincenzo owes his life, would later be known as Stoupe.

What force exactly brought Vincenzo and his life-partner Stoupe together still remains a mystery. Some Panzian scholars simply attribute it to serendipity, others suggest that Allah himself was responsible for their crossing fates. Regardless, any serious student of Vincenzo’s life knows how much he owes to his anima – to use Carl Jung’s term. Without Stoupe the Enemy of Mankind holding him down, Vincenzo would likely fade into obscurity, a footmark in the history books as another victim of the rampant heterosexual persecution of that time.

From their first encounter through their long and productive career, the two were inseparable. Though Stoupe was significantly older than Vincenzo – five years, quite an elder to an impressionable 13-year old Vinnie – the two understood each other perfectly. What Stoupe couldn’t articulate about his feelings towards Christians, gays, and Mennonites Vincenzo was able to convey with an artistic quality that knew no bounds. When Vincenzo couldn’t find an outlet for his anger (despite daily battleaxing), Stoupe was there to listen and console his young friend. Even though both feared for their lives at the hands of the vicious Portuguese militia, neither could be more happy.

Despite their budding friendship, both knew the danger they were in simply by remaining on such hostile soil. Though they were able to elude the Portuguese for some time, both knew that as soon as the army left their preparatory yoga classes the hunt would continue and our heroes would have to move again. Vinnie and Stoupe, despite their impressive arsenal of obsolete medieval weaponry, were no match for a nation of fierce homosexuals and homosexual sympathizers trained in the art of Tai Bo. They knew that only vigorous training and preparation could defeat such a formidable opponent.

On their fourth month of traversing the Portuguese wilderness, young Vincenzo became restless.

“Stoupe,” he said. “Where are you leading us? We’ve been traveling through this desert forever, and it’s fuckin’ hot!” He added, “You know I don’t deal well with heat – well, unless it is a gat to which I am referring.”

“Have patience my son. I am leading with a purpose, and that purpose is right before you.” With an all-knowing smirk, Stoupe gently pushed aside a shrub to reveal a glorious visage onto the weary travelers. Before them stood a grand boat floating in a nearby ocean. It was unlike any vessel Vinnie had seen traversing the Nile. Instead of wood, it was constructed from bone. The hull was tied together with ligaments and a decomposing mermaid skeleton served as the ornamental figure on the very tip. The cabin of the boat was made from piled skulls as high as twice Vincenzo’s height. His mother recoiled in horror.

“This,” Stoupe proclaimed, “is the Nada Cambia. It is a sturdy vessel bought to me by my father, constructed completely from the bones of dead Mennonites.”

“Fucking Mennonites,” Vincenzo growled under his breath.

“With this we will travel to England, where I may be able to arrange transport to the Americas. Is this satisfactory?” Vincenzo laughed. “Stoupe, my brother. Always holding me down. Of course this is satisfactory!”

“Excellent,” Stoupe answered. “Let’s away and soon we will be free from oppression!” The two partners ran up the bone mast to the bone deck, where Stoupe entered the bone cabin and powered the bone sails. Vincenzo’s mother, unsurprisingly, recoiled in horror.

On board Stoupe introduced Vincenzo to the virile young seamen, including a teenage Des Devious (then called “Fred”) and an even younger Canibus, who served as Stoupe’s first mate during the Spanish Inquisition. The chemistry between the four was undeniable. Des Devious also came from a Muslim background, specifically from the nation of Lebanon where he was the only black American rapper studying at Tehran University at the time. Canibus was also a strict follower of the holy texts, and enjoyed philosophical discussions with Vincenzo under the influence of special marijuana picked from Stonehenge and imported through Damascus.

The Nada Cambia set sail north for the UK, a land Vincenzo believed to be a safe haven from homosexuals, Christians, and other assorted riff-raff. It was not until Stoupe educated Vincenzo on Britain’s emerging house scene did a teenage Vinnie grow restless.

“How dare we land in Britain!” quothed the boy. “Homosexuals and Mennonites abound there. We must turn and set sail for Egypt, my motherland! And the land of Allah, King of the Israelites!”

“Vinnie,” said Stoupe reassuringly. “We will be there only temporarily, I promise upon the chubby visage of the Buddha Siddhartha Guatama. We will dock, purchase 40s at the local brewery and sail to the Americas within a fortnight.”

“And why not to Egypt?” asked Vinnie.

“You are still wanted in Portugal for murder, and word has been sent to Anwar Al Sadat in Egypt of your absence. It would only be a matter of time before Portuguese hegemony penetrates the sandy borders of Egypt and snatches you up like a wombat in a mine field!”

“I see,” Vinnie said gruffly. “Why America then? Are there no faggots in America?”

Stoupe laughed heartedly. “Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie – Retire to your coffin for the night. There is much to discuss in the morning.”

Reluctantly Vincenzo left Stoupe to his business. He wandered the ship aimlessly, briefly discussing the Dead Sea Scrolls with Canibus before retiring to his quarters. In his coffin Vincenzo slept restlessly. What future awaits for him in the Americas? What of his perpetually recoiling mother and his relatives of which so far there’s been no mention? What of them? What of the pyramids?

Vincenzo sighed. It was too much to think of, so he shut his eyes and began counting lions in his mind. After reaching five Vincenzo was fast asleep, dreaming of Eloheims and desert eagles. The dreamer was soon awoken, however, by the sound of grinding bones from the ship’s hull.

Angered, Vincenzo climbed the clavicle ladder to the bone deck to observe the happenings. Instead of bones he found the sea, however. Portugal was now just a glimmer in his eye while the sea composed the greater landscape. As he watched the waves collide with femurs Vinnie felt a presence to his right. A somber Stoupe stood beside him, nodding at the visage. Vincenzo turned back to the water, “The ocean sure is vast," he breathed. Stoupe's eyes lit up like multiple shots from a warm gat. "It is," he said. "It sure is."

vandalized
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinnie_Paz_%28rapper%29

^ looks like the fixed it so the link takes you to the corrected one now

corrected
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinnie_Paz

Posted on: December 16, 2007, 07:39:07 pm

Did someone just write this shit or get it from some JMT propaganda site? Cause if they got it from an official JMT site, I've just lost all respect for Vinnie.

	Author	Topic: WOW: Paz's wiki entry (Read 428 times)
0 Members and 2 Guests are viewing this topic.