Admission to the fame party‚ that 24/7 bacchanal of tangled limbs, free shit, Schedule IV drugs, paparazzi strobe, chlamydia, tiger pets, emotional illiteracy, macchiatos and mug shots‚ always follows its own inscrutable metric. It’s available to anyone lucky, talented, intrepid or proximate enough to be donked on the head by the magic wand, which is why you might sometimes find Mario Lopez and Mick Jagger in the same sentence, and maybe even the same room. Lately, though, things have gone a bit haywire. Hemorrhaging cash and desperate to stay relevant, the triptych of industries traditionally responsible for furnishing the party‚ music, print media and Hollywood‚ have shed all dignity and are openly hunting the internet for fresh blood, virgin talent and the carcass of originality. Now you can get donked by the wand while sitting at your mom’s house, doing your thing. The frontier is open and lawless and it’s being colonized as we speak. Which brings us to the music industry in general, California rap in particular, and our lupine case studies of the hour, Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All (OFWGKTA) from LA, and Lil B and Young L of The Pack, out of the Bay Area, who perfectly illustrate the possibilities and dangers and radical ingenuity and whiplash speed of the whole stinking deal.