Limbo

Limbo

A game of lowering the bar.

In many fields, there is a skill gap that arrives from repetition, an advantage that benefits newness and disqualifies pioneers from maintaining a top spot (sorry Mark Spitz). Bun B visited Complex with this in mind, using inflation to neutralize this recency effect in crowning the hip-hop G.O.A.T. In nearly every matchup, Bun’s rationale relies on precedence to inform prowess—an artist’s future influence magnifies (and overshadows) the value of their work and their innate capacity for their craft. Though this adjustment accounts for the shoulders-of-giants effect, it makes earliness, rather than talent, the standard for excellence. To properly honor Biggie as #1 after two decades, influence and ability need to be considered, equally and as independent variables. Without doing so, the Top 5 will always resemble Mount Rushmore—a monument that commemerates founders rather than geniuses.

Limbo

No man’s land.

Neutrals don’t occupy the moral high ground—especially when it comes to modern football’s infamous barbershop debate. In fact, the Messi vs. Ronaldo discussion has such distinguished hemispheres that diplomats are forced into a lonely orbit. The nonpartisans-turned-extraterrestrials among us fail to understand that their perspective is, by nature, alien—far enough from the surface to see both sides. Where impartiality traditionally bridges distances, refusing to choose between #10 and #7 emphasizes the space between the uninvolved and the passionate. Simply posed, the question is about the existance of a best player. To pick neither is to disagree with the whole world.