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Papier​-​M​â​ché Chalet

by Andrew Mbaruk & Th' Mole

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naked and nameless the truth disabusing the naive and neutral nigh this uniquely unnatural navel gazing unstable raving nevermore Nagasaki nuclear as the family nonstop these notoriously big novel invisible men their nooks and hovels as up the nostrils these narcotics navigating inwardly nostos of the navy spitting N words into the sea the nomenclature under N replete with nigger words, nonconformistical neologistic words. here came the KKK painting over these paintings in the cave, that matrix named in Plato's debate these shadows these demons at play as their delusions and the reason of day lock horns, parsing the world's verse from Mars's surface, these white hoods were once darker, diverser, this white congregation chanting rap faster white pastor and act blacker supplant the black rappers and transport their asses back to Madagascar. those understood as dark matter and energy his Satanic majesty let it bleed. this lactose intolerant pescatarian this black soul admonishing those aryans this man woke as God hip to Berryman's application of blackface to his fair skin. a little rock of crack in his pipe a little later fainting this passionate Christ. the newspapers painting it black and white, microphonic, riding along this Whyte Ave on his bike. reading Black Skin, White Masks tonight dealing crack to his kin and white trash alike his raps provoked by Frantz Fanon delight as the grass his smokes, a William Gaddis on the mic. he's a metaphor for our excess our habits our hubris precious as the metal ores and plastic in our computers. he's a man banned from reddit as the idiot. bananas his saga this epic as the Aeneid though Virgil's pals with Caesar Augustus dig these media deconstructed this news this Al Jazeera discussing his state approved art correctly putting the horse before the cart and stepping in unison these nazis these hippies hallucinating oddities illicitly lucidly dreaming illogically. (every word contributes to a picture of reality the rapper distributes, redistributes the reality into surreality, using the language incorrectly correctly disseminating revenge on the manufacturers of consent, the Bill Cosbys, manufacturers of consent, the disc jockeys who never play the best rap of today, that Lil Ghostwriter we so need.)
Th' Soul 02:32
Paradiso 04:31
Aleph 04:03
Black Athena 02:33
Yellow Dogs 03:08
8. Yellow Dogs (peeling this clementine, I can almost remember a simpler time, when there were no words for orange and everything orange was called red or yellow, are you hip? dig, there was no orange) these craven bores depend upon the salient gore of this X-rated life painted orange, this red delicious delight these naked whores peddling entertainment at the Sony Store whether hated as the phonies or sacred as David Bowie your dust is blended with Jimi Hendrix's, whether poor or rich as the metal detected on the shore those Metallicas and Tools of yore anciently before the table of the lords. where Ossington and Bloor intersect, philosophies as pure as the wetness collecting under this drip ... the best Vedic texts disseminated among the literature silvern and velour. these raps opulent and godly free as the bat is black magic, throwing knives swallowing swords imploring these pirates all aboard deplorable crimes, these modern wars these drones and droids orange noise poor by choice these radical pacifist girls and boys and trans activists certain of the nicely handled randomness nerdily voiced and rapped in a candlelit world antique like Sanskrit in the hourglass the metaphysique of spacetime, its curvature nonunique as brain rhymes with brain identical our identity as the wholly ghostly healthful our mentally ill souls as lonely as the dragon in a tailspin *
Inferno 02:57
Minor Ghost 04:55


Download includes lyrics transcription, audio interview, and audio album exposé by Andrew Mbaruk.

Papier-Mâché Chalet is not for everyone. It’s not for most. It supposes an audience familiar with literary modernism and postmodernism, approaching its topics as Gertrude Stein approaches objects, food and rooms in Tender Buttons. So, it’s probably not for you.

Following hundreds (possibly thousands) of self-published songs and a dozen books, poet Andrew Mbaruk, in collaboration with composer Th’ Mole, presents Papier-Mâché Chalet as a kind of sonic effigy – it’s a record of who he was at the time of its recording, and a record you’ll likely love to hate.

Despite disinterest upon disdain, the Weird Rap label continues to herald Mbaruk (previously known as Lil Ghostwriter) as a post-post-postmodern literary genius and considers Papier-Mâché Chalet a masterpiece of high art rap.

In partnership, Audio Recon, Weird Rap, and the artists humbly unveil Papier-Mâché Chalet this May the 19th without regard for acceptance, much less popularity.

But that is a lie. In truth, our hearts contain a dim hope for a small, appreciative audience. For those few disposed listeners, if they exist at all, Papier-Mâché Chalet awaits.


released May 19, 2021

Verses by Andrew Mbaruk
Instrumentation by Th' Mole


all rights reserved



Andrew Mbaruk & Th' Mole Vancouver, British Columbia

Mbaruk, rap poet, of the metropolitan, unceded Coast Salish territories.
Mole, beat poet, of the rural, unceded Nisenan territories.

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