As I toiled beneath the sun this morning, pushing my lawnmower in patterns, I found myself falling into a trance.
My body worked as my kind was filled with a gloriously funky vision of Lamont.
"You must go to the people of the 'verse," he told me, "and to them you must bring tidings most funky."
"Today, I give to you a glimpse at the future of your tribe through the loving embrace of the #cybrefunk music of the past, for it has surrounded you for your entire life."
I was aghast. How could I have missed the glory of the #cybrefunk genre?
"I am kind of riffing on this as I go along," Lamont responded, reading the pages of my soul like a back issue of Spin, "but just because you haven't recognized it doesn't mean you don't understand it."
"#Cybrefunk is a spectrum, a state of mind, an all-encompassing groove that seeps from all your kind," he rhymed in time sublime. "#Cybrefunk needs no more describing, my 'dog, just listen now and then post it on your microblog."
And who am I to argue with Lamont?
This first is The Commodores with their #cybrefunk instrumental "Machine Gun" to get the groove percolating through the 'verse.
That should be enough of the #cybrefunk to get things rolling, for now.
Keep the fire burning, I've other things to which I must attend, but know my inner groove thang resides here, with you all.
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