So is anyone else blown by the priorities that were displayed during week three of the NFL besides me?!! I saw the reopening of a sports arena (and Canal St. businesses, mind you) in the middle of a city that is still ravaged from the destruction of Hurricane Katrina and government negligence. While the people of New Orleans can be uplifted and encouraged by the Saints having a home again, I can’t help but notice the paradox. First and foremost, how is it that the NFL was able to drudge up $15 mil. three weeks into the season for last minute renovations when the government’s been unable to properly allocate funds raised in the last 14 months to restore homes? How has the NFL shown more initiative and implementation in a month’s time that FEMA, the FBI and all the federal acronyms combined have been unable to do in over a year’s time? Secondly, if in fact, a saint is just a sinner who’s fallen down, why the h*ll would we chose to help the saint (the iconic representation of the fallen sinner) versus reaching out our hands to the real victims? Are we so distracted with celebrating domes reopening and one year ‘anniversaries’ of tragedies (is anyone else disturbed how we reflect on and commemorate disasters with the same celebratory term used for weddings and birthdays?) that we’ve all turned a blind eye to the devastation that still haunts New Orleans? Should the saints have a winning season this year, what profit is really gained when uplifted souls have to pay cover charges to celebrate in the French Quarter businesses because their homes haven’t been rebuilt yet? “Inundated: The Katrina Demi-Epic” a.k.a. “The Big Uneasy” ACT I For the past few months or so We’ve been engulfed with shows That put the Gulf Coast on front pages. Yet it’s not for the love of folks That most have covered the scope… It’s to exploit the struggles and woes in a front of the ages. So who in the hell left the floodgates open Long enough for tear duct substrates to remain broken? Who duct taped the notion on our eyelids to keep us watching? Who in the hell left the blood tapes rollin’ Long enough to let the rush take over ‘em But quick enough to escape the overrun of escapees flockin’?!! It’s the legalized gossips that keep ratings high for profits. Why else would eagle eyes wade in waste-high toxins?!! – Human interest pieces keep us dry as we watch them – viewed from a distance. These reporters seem neither in harm’s way Nor deeply moved by the parts they play… Their words are facades for the stage – mere props for the news edition. Their eyewitness is a wry gimmick. I can’t just blindly listen to ‘fly by’ night vision. Let them SURVIVE in it – don’t just drop in, get dropped off and stay in the trenches. Besides, how can they film folks stranded in regions And then walk away from where they’ve landed and leave them?!!… This isn’t Cannes season – such abandoned reason is tainted and twisted. I hate the media’s tracking tactics When grief or tragedy happens. They’re all tactless fascists with cameras flashin’ immodestly. To keep dailies blatantly current Men and ladies like Katie Couric Invent shameless circuits with circus-like followings. This is where the government sows a seedy advantage – They love to control us by what’s seen on the bracket. The media’s magic deceives with manic smoke and mirrors. That’s why FEMA was so inactive When Katrina was first seen on the planet… There’s no need for immediate panic unless planted by the overseers. ACT II Resting 10 ft. beneath sea level, Once New Orleans was besieged by that she-devil, Everyone suddenly saw its deeply disheveled quality of life. But if not for the French Quarters Becoming weatherworn and drenched by water, The existence of the poorer gives little incentive for reporters to get falsities right. We’ve got families so accustomed to poor conditions That some scuffle to pour back into them. They know nothing of heir conditioning – laws work best upon insignificant ignorance. It’s only when you don’t know or want better, That you don’t seek to go beyond your measure… Such pawns are treasured – as they’re better suppressed by indignant indifference. Though this is a tragedy we’ve certainly faced, The hazards seen go beyond this hurricane. When poverty’s only shown on a certain face, bigger stories lie beneath. As Black looters were exposed as tasteless vagrants The coverage shown hurts my race’s patrons And worsens my faith in this nation as a less racist society. When both Blacks and Whites are scavengin’ for sandwiches But only Africans are shown scatterin’ like savages, The averages we’re battlin’ make me feel a bit queasy. So near the integral rigs of Gulf and Texaco, When sincere interest is shown for the Gulf of Mexico… I’m more prone to question the motives that focus reels on the Big Easy. ACT III Supporting a quarter of our domestic oil’s network, Louisiana’s ports are vested in a major part of its net worth. This info’s not off the record – FX documented it. Two months before Katrina, it aired Oilstorm: A movie release that dared to forewarn… Subpoena this mediaware tour de force – it’s evidence that the odds were significant. What’s crazier is how the news incriminates the hands that feed them As they demonstrate the fragments they seethe in. Each picture paints a fabulous thesis: this system devours itself from within. Tell me, what’s wrong with the picture exposed to the public Where evacuated dogs were depicted in coach buses While exasperated grandmas exploded in low budget buckets with less than an hour to print. This is American priorities at its best – Our embarrassed authority’s been outed by its press. Newspapers have routed out the threat for the sake of the story. Apparently, the red, white and blue’s been […]

Last month around this time I was on the interior of the New Jersey penal system and today once again I’m typing a bi-weekly column for the most respected Hip-Hop website in existence. My name is Serius Jones. Those of you who are familiar with my work know that I am far from the caliber of dude that uses my criminal record or street relationships as a gimmick. However, when you live a life as volatile and high risk as mines you might start feeling the urge to express yourself and use any given opportunity as an outlet to the world and hope that someone can benefit from your experience. If you are the type that thinks because a brother is equipped with this Harvard aptitude and extensive vocabulary that there’s something sweet or “industry” about me you better ask somebody because you obviously are not in the “loop.” Many people are confused about what the loop actually is. Is it the regular population of people that just watch the news and television? Is it those of you who are searching the internet for information? Or maybe the group of those who know the newest music, fashion and gossip when it comes out? The answer to all of those is probably no. Being that we are kept on a need to know basis, the average American has no clue of what’s going on behind the scenes in the streets, the government, corporate America or the entertainment world. We believe what we see and hear because most of us have no other source of information about the industry besides videos, radio and websites such as AllHipHop.com. I was always the type that wanted to know the REAL. If somebody gets robbed I want to know who’s behind it. There’s no power like information. Being that I have basically become a well known name within the industry and the streets without even having a major record released yet, I’ve gotten to see the machine known as the “industry” from an inside angle. From the outside looking in it may seem as if the industry is a big conspiracy, a cult or some club that you have to know someone to join. Well in all actually it is kind of like a club. I call it the “Club club.” In this industry your name becomes your all access pass to all the clubs and events. So when I started moving around from club to club, city to city I began to notice something. That song that Nate Dogg and Tupac was singing was real. “Every other city we go every other video I see the same….” Now everyone knows that wherever there’s money you will find the baddest of the bad b######, but I kept meeting and running into the same girls and each time it was the same story. You dudes who are reading this with some kind of game can relate to the invigorating feeling of securing some new thoroughbreds on your roster. However, with the diverse entrepreneurial activities of a young pimpish brotha such as myself the task of orchestrating my schedule so I can find some time to capitalize off each of these dimes without slowing my hustle can be a challenge. I wound up at an industry party where five of the chicks I bagged in separate venues were ALL there lingering around VIP looking all thirsty and extra trying to catch the eye of one of the many celebrities in attendance popping bottles. Disgusting! I realized all these entertainers are literally smashing the same chicks. I wish I could tell y’all some of the actual situations where I had certain rap stars’ chicks laying in my bed with their weaves twisted. Haha! I’m not in high school though and smashing some dudes chick is really not a big deal in 2006. I’ve realized that this is just standard industry procedure. So what exactly makes some one “industry?” It’s almost like a programmed protocol that they use to communicate. It’s not real and is annoying how fake it is sometimes. I was mad at it at first until I realized this is the same psychology that applies to any game. When I was involving myself in certain extracurricular underworld activity some of the same rules apply. The power of relationships is what makes the world go round. Therefore what many industry insiders do is meet at a designated venue or club and have surface level conversations with each other to facilitate business. This is an example… Industry dude says “Hey how you doing Serius, what’s going on with you?” Translation :(Oh, you again. You look like your getting money, I want in.)” Serius Jones says “Same s### different water, you know working hard.” Translation: (Here we go again!) Industry dude says “Yeah that’s what’s up. How that deal coming along?” Translation: (How much money you got??) Serius Jones says “It’s good actually. I got a lot of offers I’m just waiting for the right look naamean?” Translation: (None of your business) Industry dude says “Right right, well we need to get up, you got my contact right? You got a Blackberry? Translation: (Your going to be getting some real money soon so let me pretend that I’m actually cool with you.) At this point is where I give them my manager’s number and keep it moving. Real talk in the last seven months I’ve had at least 150 of those conversations! Not only can that s### be draining as watching a Bush speech, but it also teaches you to lie. One example could be when that sucka emcee asks me to feature on his new song. I really wish I could say, “Naw dog, no disrespect but I’m not really feeling your style or your music like that.” But instead for the sake of professional courtesy and good business etiquette what comes out is a nice lie like, “Well I’m real busy working on a few projects but […]

At the conclusion of “Silence of the Lambs,” Hannibal Lector daftly informs the young FBI rookie Clarice that she is spared from his ultra-violent, methodical murder spree. “The world is a better place with you in it,” he said to her just before the cannibal went off to eat his next prey. Hip-Hop is its own little society and we’ve come to police certain people while others are subjected to the mercy of the court. This isn’t always a forceful expulsion, but sometimes a derivative of a lack of support. The Silence of the Lames is powerful as well. I, illseed, proclaim a few character that should be permitted to remain among us should the powers-tha-be permit it. MURDER INC. Ja Rule, Irv Gotti and Murder Inc: OK, 50 Cent proved his point. Now, that the resounding point has been made and we all got a few laughs, it is high time for Ja Rule and the Inc crew to make their return. I found it quite interesting that Hip-Hop fans, television, radio and other such forces were quite tolerant of Murder Inc until 50 came along with disses and jokes. And then 50 Cent flipped it and even sang to your accepting ears. Well, without requesting the wrath of G-Unit, I think that Ja, Ashanti and others have put out some heat since the beef. Still, nobody seems to care. Well, I think it is time to care again and time to let bygones be bygones. M.O.P. I’m scared for M.O.P. Ah, I know Laze, Fox, Billy Danz and Lil’ Fame aren’t scared of anything. But for me, M.O.P. represents one of the best groups that the 90’s had to offer on the hardcore front. But, it would seem that they are getting the Charli Baltimore treatment, so close to mainstream success yet so far. Fans know, the First Fam has been around for years, but when they signed to pre-breakup Roc-A-Fella Records, that meant the whole world was about to get a taste of what made us wildout to for years. But the mosh pit in my soul turned into a Kenny G party as time went by and I got nothing from the Mash Out Posse. Sure, there were indie releases, but I wanted that industry-driven, amped up brand-positioning that only a major could bring. Now, on G-Unit, I see the same thing happening. Its not necessarily 50’s fault, because M.O.P. said themselves – it’s the problems with game! The game needs balance and I don’t mean Jayceon Taylor on a tightrope. I mean, M.O.P. on Interscope Records in the same manner that 50 Cent, Eminem and others are. Oh, sure, we know the routine about marketability or supposed lack of it, but make it happen, cap’n! JEAN GRAE The state of women in Hip-Hop is terrible. All the top chicks appear to be a variation of the same person. Even if they aren’t the same chick, there is one that is boldly different. The problem is, Jean Grae was unable to get any real traction in the rap game even though she had the illest wordplay, a cute face and an the critical acclaim beyond sales. She’s appeared on this website and even had a column that had readers tickled pink. Well in the last few years, the mixtapes, the hype and the AHH column are all gone. Most fanatics like myself know that Jean inked with Talib Kweli’s Blacksmith Records, but will the support be there in force like the love? Will the rap music industry allow for a new cog to enter the machine even though it doesn’t quite fit? Only time will tell, but if she gets in she is going to give every rap chick a run for their Prada. WILL.I.AM, FERGIE & THE BLACK EYED PEAS You haters. You so-called gatekeepers. You fair-weather frauds! I know I am going against all that is sacred, but I happen to love the Black Eyed Peas. THAT’S RIGHT! I enjoy their clean, poppy form of Hip-Hop that knows no bounds, musically or creatively. See, I been coppin’ BEP albums like Bridging The Gap and Behind The Front. That was B.F. or Before Fergie. That was also before the pop phenomenon, the support of the masses and the multi-platinum sales. But, even with the addition of Fergie Ferg, the Black Eyed Peas have continued to craft a brand of Hip-Hop that is totally necessary. I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like being angry all the time. Nor do I always want to hear perverse profanity in every other rap lyric. BEP is fun. Fun to listen to and they have a chemistry that reminds me of the days of old. Remember when MC Hammer was so corny and now people love and respect him? You’ll regret dissin’ the Black Eyed Peas one day. I promise! RAY BENZINO AND DAVE MAYS People don’t like Benzino and Dave Mays. I personally find them to be two of the most intriguing people that Hip-Hop has ever seen. Think about it. Somehow these guys get into a passionate, bitter war with Eminem, 50 Cent and Interscope Records, a place they deemed "The Machine." The war was as bloody as any conflict and ultimately resulted in Dave and Ray being ousted from their own company and treated as pariahs. I know that people like Kim Osorio and Julia Beverly would completely disagree with my next notion, because some of the things that have transpired and allegedly happened with these ladies. What I have heard and read regarding “s### monkeys” and alleged sexual harassment makes me cringe as well. On the other side, what good is Luke Skywalker without Darth Vader? How great is Superman with no Lex Luthor? Batman is a nerd in leotards without The Joker. Not to liken Zino and Dave to the criminally insane, but they have been fashioned into that, in part, from the industry. The other part is a matter of fact. While far from […]

Greetings readers and Hip-Hop fans, I go by the name of Serius Jones. Many of y’all know me from my classic battles and Serius music that’s saturating the streets. However, before I was introduced to the mic, the pif, the liquor, the women and all my extracurricular activities in the streets, I was a gifted wordsmith and writer. So when AllHipHop.com asked me to write this column I jumped at the opportunity. As a youngster growing up in Englewood, New Jersey, before they started the restructuring in my hood the lines of class were clearly separated by the train tracks. Being that we mostly stayed in our section, I never had an understanding of how people on the other side of the tracks perceived our lifestyle. The only perception I knew that existed for us was confirmed by petrified expressions, rolled up windows and doors locks clicking whenever they passed by. It wasn’t until I saw the response to this phenomenon that was so natural and second nature to us that we never even stopped to wonder its power and potential. Most of y’all know this universal power as Hip Hop. I must say this art form has went beyond the expectations of even those such as myself that have lived and breathed it from childhood. Hip-Hop was once reserved for those from the wrong side of the tracks. It was created by rebels left without a voice and a culture who needed an outlet to express ourselves to the world. Nowadays any person with internet access can simply type in AllHipHop.com on a keyboard and dive in into this culture at the click of a button. Now for those that are just finding out about Hip-Hop through websites like AllHipHop.com and feeling like you discovered something new, you obviously have been under a boulder for the last 20 years and it is safe to say you are what we call WACK. For those of you that are continuing to read like okay get to the funny part, well I have an interesting topic that always entertains me. SUCKA EMCEES. Now this title has been used since the beginning of Hip Hop, but to this day some people still remain unclear as to exactly how to recognize or define a sucka emcee. Being that I am not only a TRUE emcee but also have a reputation for murdering sucka emcees, allow me to break it down so it shall forever be broken… You be the judge. If you or anyone that you know fits the following descriptions then he or she is a Sucka emcee… 1. An overall corny, wack, or swaggerly challenged individual that has no presence, personality or business attempting to do anything other than lose their virginity. (Doesn’t have to rap either.) 2. Still has a name that begins with MC in 2006. 3. Steals bits and pieces of others styles, rhymes or overall swag and incorporates them into his own trying to upgrade his/her wackness. (Also known as “Biting”) 4. Fabricates fantasies of a criminal lifestyle and portrays a “tough guy” image in effort to gain “street credibility” and respect, when in reality the only laws they’ve broken regard Meagan’s or traffic violations. 5. Goes into a recording studio and tells a producer I want a song that sounds “just like such and such.” (FYI: The majority of the industry does this. See 3) 6. Raps in loud aggressive tones and seems tough on records when they have been documented victims of robberies on multiple occasions. (Anybody can get caught out there, but more than twice? Daaamn homie!!) 7. Sold drugs unsuccessfully and only began to get money after the record deal but still uses the cliché “Im not a rapper im a Hustla” to seem more gangsta and have an excuse to be less nice lyrically. (When did it become more cool to be a drug dealer than a multi-platinum rap star??) 8. Buys top notch fake ass jewelry because fans and media will automatically think its real. (Can you say monzenite?) 9. Appears on DVD’s brandishing firearms at a helpless camera lens while yelling threats to try and trick you into being scared of them. All in an attempt to take attention away from their garbage ass raps. (Refer to the average street DVD) 10. Rides around with 4 armed muscle head bodyguards in a bulletproof car, vest, hat, and pants but picks fights with pedestrians at crowded police infested industry parties. (Trust me I’ve seen it) 11. Sends cheap shots and challenges at other rappers and then turns around and apologizes the next day. (U already know! Haha) 12. Rehearses raps with his/her entourage and comes to rap battles with prepared chants, ad-lives, routines and choreographed moves looking and sounding like the Harlem Boys Choir. (Refer to Serius Jones Smack battle) 13. Any rapper who thinks they can f**k with Serius Jones…. (In 2005 Fight Klub 12 victims in a row. Don’t get it twisted!!) Now that you have the official documentation on the characteristics of a SUCKA emcee, this is how you can identify a TRUE emcee. A TRUE Emcee is…… 1. A Mover of Crowds or Master of Ceremonies. 2. A rapper who surpasses the level of just “rapping” and applies artwork and next level skill to his craft. Also know as being “nice” (Refer to Serius Jones “King Me” street album.) 3. A trendsetter whose opinions, style and taste is so hot and original it influences others to want to live and act and even dress the same. (Example. Pac had dudes wearing leather vests and getting their nose pierced) 4. Creates his/her own lane, is comfortable being themselves and doesn’t need to explain themselves or try to duplicate or “Bite off” someone else to be accepted. 5. A musician that understand Hip-Hop and uses his/her voice as an instrument. 6. One who can study the game and be the voice that has been missing. To sum this up, it’s […]

Tupac Amaru Shakur was many things to many people. Rebel. Poet. Sex Symbol. Skinny dude with a big mouth. But to most of our generation, Tupac was an icon that represented both the promise and the trappings of youth. A man who teetered on the cusp of truly taking a leadership role in the direction of his people, still chained to the ignorance of reckless young adulthood. On that fateful September 7, 1996, those shots precipitated the end of a life that showed flashes of brilliance and rage. It took from us a galvanizing, yet polarizing presence from both our music and our culture. Here, on the tenth anniversary of his passing, we ask the question: What if Tupac survived that day? Damn, gotta keep my eyes open. Can’t f**king believe I left the hotel with no f**kin vest. [Cough] I gotta cut this s**t out, man, I just went through this two years ago. I don’t even know where the nearest hospital is, we in the motherf**kin’ desert. Didn’t even want to go to this fight man, it’s been crazy out here. This Death Row s**t really got me over my head. Man, I just wanted out of that cell man I didn’t sign on for all this. This aint…. And then I blacked out. Next thing I know, it’s tubes and s**t. Machines. It was worse than New York. All I could think about was, “What if this was it?” Man I figured two more albums, I can get off this s**t, start my own label, see if me and Biggie could get back up. Hope he knew I was just trying to sell some records. Suge and them is cool man, but this s**t ain’t what I’m about. We been through some s**t, but momma taught me way better than that. Just play the role man. Two…more…albums. Like the robbery in New York, two years earlier, Tupac recovered. He went on to release his much-heralded Makaveli: The Phoenix double album, which quickly shot to number one on the charts and went on to sell three million copies. Tupac and Death Row, seemed unstoppable. But there was something different about his music.  There was a renewed sense of energy and purpose to it. Not as drenched in machismo as All Eyes on Me, Makaveli presented a combination of street game and Black power not seen since Ice Cube’s first two solo albums. Then came the announcement we all thought we would never see: Tupac decided he’d had enough. He would not renew his Death Row contract, much to the chagrin of Suge Knight, who had already lost the genius of Dr. Dre. ‘Pac definitely put the pressure on me, ya know? Duke hit us hard with the Makaveli album. Man, I was mad as hell at duke, but I couldn’t even front man, I scrapped my whole album ya know? At the time, I was laid up or whatever. Cease crashed the car and s**t, I couldn’t even standup in the booth, dog. I didn’t have that energy, that same force, ya know? I wasn’t gone’ drop no bulls**t, I had to put out the best s**t. Life After Death was my baby, and the first round ‘Pac crushed what we had, I knew I was up against the wall. Then I got that call… House of Blues, Chicago. February 17, 1997. A day most of the world had thought impossible. During a set promoting some new songs from the upcoming Life After Death album, the unthinkable happened: Tupac emerged from the audience during a performance of the party-themed track, “Hypnotize.” The crowd was buzzing. The feud of the last two years, forcing almost the whole culture to take sides, had finally come to a head. It was almost like Wrestlemania, watching Hulk Hogan walk towards the Macho Man, wondering if it was friend or foe. The DJ scratched the record and tension was high. Tupac grabs the mic from Lil’ Cease and does his verse from that freestyle which seemed so long ago in New York… Man, I don’t even think Biggie knew what to do. The look on his face was priceless. I guess I gave him no choice but to keep up, so he kicked his verse. You know that seven Mac-11 s**t. Fronting ass. But he had it right. N***as is actors…n***as deserve Oscars. It was time for me to take a bigger stage. And with that, Tupac and Biggie repaired their damaged relationship. ‘Pac even hopped on a Bad Boy remix or two. They had planned a tour. The reunion. They even shot dice for headliner rights. As luck would have it, Tupac was a bit luckier than his larger friend and got headlining rights. Life After Death, which featured two cameos with ‘Pac, and a ridiculous guest-spot by burgeoning Brooklyn vet Jay-Z, subsequently went to the top of the charts. After the tour, something began to trouble Tupac. As they toured from city to city, he began to notice some real problems in the communities where they stopped. The amazingly high rate of illiteracy in New Orleans. The problems between Black and Brown bubbling on the West Coast. The escalation of gang violence across the country. Tupac felt obligated to try and fix some of these things, and while music was an effective vehicle and acting allowed him a greater visibility, he thought he could do something more. So he made the rounds. Sought out all the old players. Met with Sharpton. Jackson. Minister Farakhan. Each meeting left him more deflated. More of the same rhetoric. More of the talk that seemed to run concurrent with the disintegration of the Black Panther lineage that ran through his veins. It was time to act. Unsure of how to act, he did what he did best: He went to the studio. Calling in favors and making connections with newer, bolder artists, including the fledgling militant group dead prez, and the outspoken Immortal Technique, Tupac […]

“See the things that irritate me about race and color is it seems a lot more colored people are racist than whites now. It seems as of years of feelings from colored people regarding racism is now turning into them being racists and not white people anymore. I am a white guy with a lot of black friends and we talk about this all the time. Nothing is owed to the people of NOW, they were not affected by things that happened a long time ago, so why are the feelings of mistakes by white people held to such a degree of hate and it does not allow anyone to move forward.” TL, a reader of illseed’s rumors Hip-Hop was built by Black people. Now, that is something I want to state up front only for clarity’s sake. That’s not a braggadocios statement – it just is. So, let us be clear – Black people created this art and, as it went grew and gained momentum, others became apart of it. Some of these people were early bird visionaries, others were late, but eventually it became the multiracial melting pot we see today. That being said, Hip-Hop, as revolutionary as it is, is not the Civil Rights Movement. When purported “outsiders” entered the Civil Rights Movement, some were generally people with a genuine interest in the overall well being of “Negroes,” who at the time were subjected to all sorts of injustices from a lack of voting rights to safe living conditions to violent racist acts to discrimination. Others merely had an interest in maintaining the integrity of the Constitution and the accompanying laws of the land. Many were young, devoted, vigilant, and at least on some level – sympathetic to the Black struggle. These White people often endured horrific conditions themselves and were victims of brutality and even murder. Times have changed. Unlike the Civil Rights Movement, the typical non-Black Hip-Hop fan (or the Black fan for that matter) doesn’t concern themselves with the politics of race like their 60’s counterparts. They have finally achieved equality, in that the word n#### is distributed equally among the whole culture. In fact, if Hip-Hop was considered a house, you could say these newer representatives comes into the house with no real historical reference for both the word, and the conditions attached to it’s usage. Those times are considered relics; old news. I’ve witnessed the racial dynamics of America in my own way. In the 80’s, I saw a disproportionate amount of Black children shepherded to Special Ed classes(guilty only of having bad parents) and prevented from having a quality education, so when my parents moved me out of certain classes – I knew something was up. Later, I would see the KKK rear an uglier form of racism locally. Racism was always a black cloud that partially blocked the sun’s brightest rays. Nowadays, I see a changing face in Hip-Hop. Gone are the fresh, White friends I had grown up with on Run DMC, the Fat Boys, Boogie Down Productions and Public Enemy. Gone are the days of intellectual discourse. Gone are the days of the educated consumer. Now we have a cult of victimhood. Now, in the era of political correctness, we have a situation where it’s impolite to bring up the issues that actually helped fuel the beginnings of Hip-Hop. These days, I have been called a racist more times than I’m comfortable with for merely raising the topic of race. I’ve been called racist even though it’s quite normal for a White person to call me a n#### (or n#####) in my face, a hate word that has been Optimus Primed into one of endearment. Now, I am a n##### if you love me, and a n##### if you hate me. Go Figure? Stranger, as my reader so eloquently stated, some Black people are now considered racists without even taking into consideration the violent and discriminatory history of America towards our people, including the destruction of our family, the truncation of association with our history and lineage, and the refusal of this country to grant us the rights as citizens while we pay the same taxes and work as hard as anyone else. What these outsiders forget, is that we let you come into our house. Even though some of you use the “N-word” more than we do. Even though some of you aren’t concerned with our people, only bobbing your head to our music. Even though Hip-Hop music constantly bears witness to the self-hatred, rampant social dysfunction, drug issues, misogyny and a laundry list of other woes. “Our status is the saddest so I care where you at, Black” – Chuck D, “Louder Than A Bomb” More recently, I’ve been suppressing feelings of pseudo hatred towards my own Black people. Saddest of all, some of what can be said about so-called “outsiders” can also be applied to so-called “insiders,” who I still deem sell-outs. These are the Black people that only support the degenerative parts of Hip-Hop, while the White guys at the famed Black August concert recite dead prez lyrics word-for-revolutionary-word. (In fact, these people even buy the music like the 90% buying power of the mainstream audience.) These are the Black folk that couldn’t care less that their kinfolk and fellow humans were washed out of their homes and lives during Hurricane Katrina. These people know the staggering statistics of AIDS in the Black community; yet keep it business as usual. Perhaps most disheartening is that these Black people are unresponsive to the preservation of the music that feeds so many families, employs so many people, and has sparked the rise of a new class of millionaire, both Black and White. None of them care, I do declare. Whether you are Black or White, this is a house – the house of Hip-Hop. If you visit somebody’s home, you need to know and respect the social mores of the culture and the people in that […]

AIDS in Black America:  I’m Liftin’ Your Skirts   In a move that may shock America, ABC News aired a primetime special report on the epidemic of AIDS within the African-American community.  "Out of Control:  AIDS in Black America" primarily focused on the fact that African-Americans constitute roughly 50% of AIDS cases; more to the point, out of all women infected with the disease, reports exist that show 68% consist of Black women.  While such staggering numbers should all too familiar for us, they seem to be conveniently skirted by the very people whom are supposed to address and represent the issues affecting society.  Aside from raising awareness, this program boldly exposed a dirty and problematic secret:  even those at the highest sociopolitical level remain conveniently ignorant and distanced from the ravaging effects of AIDS.  This was most evident in the vice presidential debate between Dick Cheney and John Edwards where both illustrated oversights of obliviousness to the plight of HIV positive Black women in America.   If you missed this program which aired on Thursday, August 24, 2006, you missed an extremely poignant and sobering piece.  A piece which has afforded a second chance to readdress the ideologies behind the ignorance of our government which publicly disrespected and disturbed the existence of AIDS among African-Americans on the night of October 5, 2004: In America, “Black women between the ages of 25 and 44 are 13 times more likely to die of AIDS than their [white] counterparts”                                                       — Gwen Ifill "I have not heard those numbers with respect to African- American women.   I was not aware that it was — that they’re an epidemic"  — Vice President Cheney   "On the Outskirts of Ignorance"a.k.a. "I’m Liftin’ Your Skirts" So the Vice President of these United States Didn’t know that this AIDS disease is heightened in my race? Our women have the highest stake – and he didn’t know that statistic?!! Though African-Americans are 70% of all female cases, This @ss’ awareness failed to place this… This data is famous – even rock hermits know the specifics! Where was AIDS back in the day When Black slaves got tragically raped? That would’ve been hapless fate for his great-great-grandfathers. If HIV had been created by mankind then, Cheney’s stakes would be mad high then… As a cure could ratify the sin of date-raping our land’s daughters. But since he turned and copped a blind eye and spit in mine, I’m liftin’ skirted topics sky high with Dick in mind. It’s not just his justice that’s blind – social bifocals need to be added to the Senate, too. They’ve ridden for so long in tinted Cadillacs That they’ve developed intense cataracts… That’s why this written battle ax extracts with no local anesthetics used. Just imagine the impact of this epidemic If it’d been in the past when slave masters sexed our kindred. Their best would’ve been infected and blacklisted – Jefferson would’ve been a definite denizen of an AIDS clinic. It’s interwoven in his lineage, I’m not outing Thomas – It was his stolen privilege to p#### his black roses’ flowering content… While Big Momma’s momma couldn’t even inherit his lousy monik’ – just the shame of being a temptress. But just envision it – such justice would’ve been splendid. For every 10 Black women that died – 7 white lives would’ve also ended. If you’re offended or defensive, good – I intended to p### you off. My eulogizing something so mortally fatal Is how Edwards and Cheney utilized it as a sordid debate angle… They both evaded it with the same bull – forget politics, John and Dick, I must insist that you both screw off. Neither wanted to address the dire straits Of Black women infected in the United States. That fight was fake – democracy’s a hypocrisy. If I took the time, I could use logic to catalog it, But that’d only prove to be catastrophic… I’d be glad if Bush lost the office – but there will always be a philosophy of forgotten needs. That’s why I’ll always write hostilely As long as poor folks struggle with the cost of hospital fees. I believe in that like the Apostle’s Creed – forget a presidential oath! I felt so dissed and neglected When this d*ck, Cheney missed and blatantly disrespected The fate of my women with AIDS so reckless – with numbers rising since the 90’s in exponential growth. As johns and d**ks, they’d better pay attention The second that AIDS is mentioned. Cheney’s daughter is gay, he may want to listen – she may date interracially, too. Why does it have to touch home first Before these folks attest to a subject’s whole worth?… How can they corrupt the whole earth yet have the nerve to turn away as they rape our seeds, too? Click here to discuss "Out of Control:  AIDS in Black America" in the Ill Community. © 2006 Reggie Legend Steel Waters, Inc. reggielegend@hotmail.com  

Everyone needs to calm down. Everything is going to be okay. Hip-Hop is alive and well, and here to stay. I know I’m not the only one who is tired of people complaining about the "State of Hip-Hop." Hip-Hop is doing just fine. Actually, it’s doing better than just fine. Why is it that every interview with an artist, in every Hip-Hop publication and every blog, consist of someone crying about the state of this culture? When asked "How do you feel about the current state of Hip-Hop?" you hear answers like, "White corporate America is destroying Hip-Hop," or "Hot 97 is destroying Hip-Hop," or Jimmy Iovine and the powers that be are destroying Hip-Hop," or "50 Cent is destroying Hip-Hop." Enough already! No one is destroying Hip-Hop! There is nothing wrong with Hip-Hop’s current status. If you look back at any musical genre or culture you’ll find that the people who were there in the beginning and who have watched it grow will favor the beginning. They’ll say it was more creative and real, and artists just had more passion and love of the art than the artists of today. You know what? They might have a point, but things change. Times change, people change, power changes, taste changes, money changes, and the world changes. Now that Hip-Hop is a multi-billion dollar business and dominating everything in pop culture, everyone wants to be a critic. What’s funny is I bet the same people who have such a problem with the current state of Hip-Hop would be the first ones crying if rap wasn’t being played on the radio, or on MTV, or BET. You know that would be the case. I could hear it now, "Corporate America and the rich white people in the high rise offices are racist and prejudiced against Hip-Hop not allowing it to grow and succeed in the mainstream." Come on, this is an art form and a way of life, but above all this is a business. For a business to be successful there has to be people with money and people who are in a position to make big moves. It just so happens that some of the behind-the-scenes guys are white businessmen. I bet if you ask Jay-Z if he would have rather continued to sell crack for the rest of his life or have a white dude that may not be very interested in the music pay him millions to be a rap star, he would choose the latter. People need to understand that if it wasn’t for the higher ups right now Hip-hop would not be where it is today. If Jimmy Iovine wasn’t in the position he’s in, then Dr. Dre wouldn’t be who he is today. And If Dr. Dre wasn’t as talented he is, Jimmy Iovine wouldn’t be getting paid. They need each other. I don’t think Jimmy Iovine is going to start rapping if he can’t find talented artists. And maybe guys like Jimmy Iovine do like Hip-Hop, and maybe they do truly want it to grow for the love of the culture, but even if they didn’t, would it really matter? People say that it’s guys like Iovine who determine what’s going to be hot. Well like I said, he’s not making the music. I would like to think we as individuals have a mind of our own and won’t just agree with whatever a guy like Iovine likes. Interscope and companies like them put out what the people want. We buy these albums by the millions. Hip-Hop is fine. No, it’s better than fine, it’s great! We have such a variety to choose from today. It’s like there are different genres within a genre. If you like hardcore street rap there’s some of that. If you like pop-friendly radio songs there’s some of that. If you like conscious, in-depth cultural and political-awareness rap there’s some of that, too. There is something for everyone and it’s all there generating interest and revenue for the culture to grow and expand. And you know what that does? It provides more jobs for the inner-city youth, as well as provide more money and funding for schools in the hood and low poverty areas. Every damn rapper out has some sort of charity that gives to people in need. So why not let it grow and expand? It doesn’t take a genius to figure that artists making a particular type of music won’t go on to sell multi-million. So when Talib Kweli speaks on socially conscious issues he’s not appealing to the twelve-year-old girl listening to "Country Grammar" in the car pool line. And it’s not that Mos Def, Little Brother, or dead prez, aren’t all amazingly talented artists in their own right, but they can’t complain when they put out an album that doesn’t go platinum because the message doesn’t reach to the masses. And if they want to reach them, then they have to make a club anthem and a song for the ladies. It’s not that the machine necessarily is monopolizing the music industry to be that way, but I don’t think little Susie from Ohio cares to hear about the man holding you down. Some artists don’t want to sacrifice their artistic expression or sell-out, which is highly admirable but don’t complain when your record doesn’t reach platinum status. It’s not 50’s fault, it’s just that he makes music to reach a broader audience. My whole point is that Hip-Hop is doing very well for itself right now and that shouldn’t be overlooked. There’s so much whining and complaining that I’m afraid that we’re going to overlook a lot of good things. We have to remember that Hip-Hop is now a business. There are going to be things that are shady and unethical, but it doesn’t mean that we’re in any kind of danger. Lets just enjoy what we have and not sweat the small things.

With all the discontent, b####### and town hall meetings that people participate in, I figured it was my civic duty to offer some concrete solutions that people can follow to make quantifiable change. This sucks, that sucks, the music, Black people, White people, the industry, the "man" – it all sucks. All our effort is for naught or is it? Read below and let the revolutions begin. MENTOR A CHILD OR AN IDIOT Most of you reading this probably know good from bad, right from wrong – at least in a general sense. With that information, you might go and do something stupid, but have the ability to recover. You know why some of us don’t understand those “other people?" It’s because they are young, ignorant (as in uninformed) or straight up stupid. So I am preaching to the choir in many ways just by writing this. It is still important to reach out to that idiot and mold him into a viable member of society as well as one of the intelligent people. Whether it’s a child or an idiot, they will listen to your words. You will be a better person and so will they. Or they can be the ones hitting you with a brick as they try to rob you – your choice! The Morlocks are coming, trust me. STOP KILLING YOURSELF! If you see somebody smoking, drinking or doing drugs in an uncontrolled manner, talk to them or try to get them help. I know we are in a culture that is ass backwards, where weed is illegal, but liquor (far more dangerous) is readily available. I know we celebrate drugs on many levels, whether it’s sizzurp or Ecstasy or legal prescription drugs, but you see what happens. Hell, 50 Cent doesn’t even drink or smoke like that, but he rhymes about it because it’s entrenched in our cultural landscape. (Ever notice how prescription drugs are legal and easy to get despite having a myriad of side effects that they whisper in the commercials?) ASSOCIATE WITH PEOPLE OUTSIDE OF YOUR CULTURE – EVEN IF THEY ARE IDIOTS. In the near future, I plan to disseminate these writings to other publications and websites that have nothing to do with African Americans or Hip-Hop. I know they probably hate me like the uppity people at Cristal, but I think it’s important to engage in an uncomfortable discourse of dialogue that allows us to familiarize ourselves with "foreigners." I’d like to think that we have started to move beyond race and find commonalities in class struggle. I truly think that if I sat in a room with a Ku Klux Klansman, I could get him to like me. Right after I kill his…I mean, right after we find that we have common enemies. STUDY YOUR HISTORY AND THAT OTHER BORING STUFF This particular point is one of my weaker spots. I’ve never been a history buff, with the exception of the Civil Rights Movement. I have a vague understanding of African History, even if its simply "we are the children of Kings and Queens," Shaka Zulu and Nefertiti. After my previous editorials, people eschewed me for dwelling in the racial past, even if it was in the context of the "n-word." Cliché as it may sound, those that don’t know history, will repeat it. Just look at the correlation between slavery of old and the modern prison systems. Look at how the disenfranchised, the American Black male and other unfortunates have become a valuable asset to the bottom line of the justice business – pardon me, system. They need minorities to keep the system moving the same way the automobile industry needs gasoline. Studying American and World history can be quite tiresome, but it’s not that boring. In my old age, I tend to focus on one particular individual rather than generalities as they teach in school. The story is important if we’re going to learn from their mistakes. ACTIVATE CHANGE – AND STICK WITH IT! The enemy is patient so why shouldn’t we be as well? If you don’t like the music that’s being put out, don’t support it. Boycott what you don’t like. That involves patience! Patience is a virtue that goes unappreciated, but is still one of the most rewarding. Just ask the other team…its paying off for them, while the shortsightedness of Hip-Hop, Black people and the muted masses continues to be a detriment to all. IN CLOSING… Hip-Hop has adopted the term “movement” to represent ambitions, sounds, unachieved dreams and any particular whatever-it-is-that-they-do. Well, it’s an awfully cute term, but its extremely flawed. Movement is derived from the word move and the vast majority of us aren’t moving anything anywhere – not even the hood where we live. We aren’t moving ourselves and typically when we do, we leave behind most of those that helped us make the move. When I think of a movement, I affectionately recall the Civil Rights Movement. Even that conjures up a bad taste, because as soon as the Black Middle Class blossomed or crack sprouted up, it seemed as if the movement…stopped moving. Meanwhile, those that offered the crumbs off the table were just as willing to take them back as soon as they were given. So there you have it. Let’s MOVE!

The Lost Boyz in the Hood In light of the recent launch of the new Blade miniseries on Spike TV, a striking metaphor exists between that of its protagonist and the plight of today’s African-American male. Due to the fact that Blade is a vampire (therefore casting no reflection) as well as of obvious African descent, we have a double entendre that speaks to the very nature of how Black males are viewed in America. For those (hopefully many) familiar with Ralph Ellison, we can recognize the irony in this when recalling The Invisible Man; his prolific novel which catalogs the intolerance of America through the travels and travails of its nameless main character of color. Mos Def once noted that ‘the invisible man’s got the whole world watching.’ Indeed we do, but in what capacity does society chose to view what it can’t see? For most, in the absence of light, the darkness can skew one’s vision and fill the mind with frightening thoughts. Enter the camera-luminous radiance of the media which casts a shadow on said image that many have not seen and do not want to see. After all, society’s success (or failure for that matter) is often gauged by whomever is deemed to be its worst representation. Recalling The Lost Boys, a typical all White 80’s movie about vampires and the classic Boyz N the Hood movie of the 90’s, we see in the mixture of the two, a depiction of what the media has spun Black men into. We are a hybrid: half invisible man, half Manchurian candidate. One who has no identity outside of what has been created of us and propagated into our own self-image and the image unseen by our peers. An image which can cheapen our potential and lower the expectation and importance of our place in the world unless we begin to refocus the scope of the lens and redefine ourselves as men of value and substance. * The term "Manchurian candidate," spawned by the book and later films, refers to an individual who has undergone brainwashing and / or mind control with the intent of creating a "Sleeper" personality within that individual. (wikipedia.org) “The Lost Boyz N the Hood” While Just Another Black Girl Lost is low on the marquise, Lost boyz in the hood are shown constantly. Displayed across the prompts of TV – it’s a bittersweet limelight. Underlined and underlying like a Sharpie’s peak, Our best efforts are undermined by the parts we keep… It’s an odd odyssey to see our littered debris on primetime. It trips me out when our illiteracy gets highlights Along with sky high criminally minded hindsight. We can’t escape justice’s blind eye – the news coverage is smotherin’. But when Quadrevion and Purvis go missing in Wisconsin, Prompts in the papers surface slow like a whispered conscience… They’re more quick to respond when we’re robbin’ and plunderin’. This blind eye turned to invisible men Is primed by the spurn of our divisible skin. We’re a critical blend like Blade the ‘daywalker.’ While our best potential’s ignored by the masses, Our worst credentials are exploited and blasted… We’re in immortal caskets – stuck in a past tense like JJ Walker. We’re the mirrors of a parasitic society Reflecting its transparent spirit of primacy. They’re killin’ us silently with silver tongues and Billboard bullets. From the slick press depicting that we die in the streets To pigs pressin’ profiles illicitly keepin’ eyes on me… Why is our mystique exclusively seen as pilferers of young Gilmore’s pureness? By displaying crimes repeatedly torched into mental annals, The light of daytime TV destroys ‘dead men’s’ travels. I see through these crystal channels – their motives are clear and present. The danger’s calculated and imminent – No disclaimer can eradicate its discriminant… This affidavit’s too eminent – as its motif has smeared our essence. We’ve been deemed as easy targets of deviance By a media that markets us as heathens and hedonists. We’re in too deep in this as “Stereotypecasts” to the Associated Press. Unless we’re talkin’ childish spouts like pediatricians Or caught wildin’ out with weed in our systems, The media won’t listen – positive Black folks are like tokes of smoke: a waste of jaded breath. Just look at the way they’ve kept A lack of paraded depth Surrounding wages of deaths when drugs or violence is removed from it all. Why aren’t cameramen constantly clammerin’ Surrounding the cover up with Martin Lee Anderson?… His death was mod’rately handled when he was roughed up by a crew of guards. In the case of Florida’s juvenile detention, Their coroner’s truth was wilder than fiction. They said he died of a mild condition of sickle cell anemia. But the fatal flaw was this – he only had the trait. He was accosted and suffocated with ammonium nitrate… Yet the holes in this vile case have been overlooked with selective amnesia. Though there are scenes of evidence from the filmed altercation And a second autopsy effectively revealed their alteration, Evidently it’s been sealed in moderations of blatant disregard. Despite protests and rallies from students and activists, We haven’t viewed a second glimpse since this tragedy hit… Yet I bet if the hues had been aptly flipped – they would’ve already charged these heinous guards. This is America a.k.a. Freedomland at its best. Is it transparent enough? – it’s easy to plan a Black man’s arrest. It’s easy to s#### out a measly man’s wrongful death than to bring justice to light. It’s more feasibly accepted to assume guilty verdicts Than it is to find an unbiased mind who’ll willingly reverse it… Even we’ve been enticed by the appeal of the circuit – I’ve observed and heard it as it bumps in the night. Glorified in our music and awarded with plaques and Oscars, I’m mortified when I view this recorded as Black dogma. We’re more than derelicts and crack mongers – until it pays to be portrayed as such. […]

Dear Mr. Creekmur: Thank you for writing to share with me your concerns regarding internet neutrality. As you may know, I support net neutrality. The open architecture of the Internet has been the critical element that has made it the most revolutionary communications medium since the advent of the television. Each day on the Internet, views are discussed and debated in an open forum without fear of censorship or reprisal. The Internet as we know it does not discriminate among its users. It does not decide who can enter its marketplace and it does not pick which views can be heard and which ones silenced. It is the embodiment of the fundamental democratic principles upon which our nation has thrived for hundreds of years. I have always, and will continue to, strongly and unequivocally support these principles. As I have worked throughout my Senate career to make broadband access readily available throughout New York State and our nation, I believe that maintaining an open Internet coupled with more broadband access is necessary if we are to meet the promise and the potential of the Internet to disseminate ideas and information, enhance learning, education and business opportunities for all Americans and improve and uplift our citizenry. We must embrace an open and non-discriminatory framework for the Internet of the 21st century. Therefore, it is my intention to be an original cosponsor of the net neutrality legislation proposed by Senators Dorgan and Snowe to ensure that open, unimpaired and unencumbered Internet access for both its users and content providers is preserved as Congress debates the overhaul of our nation’s telecommunications laws. Thank you again for writing about this issue that is important to me and to so many of my constituents. Please be assured that I will fight any efforts that would fundamentally alter the inherently democratic structure of the Internet. Updates on this and many other important issues being discussed before the United States Senate, can be found on my website http://clinton.senate.gov. Sincerely yours, Hillary Rodham Clinton For more on the issues surrounding net neutrality, read an editorial by Davey D and contact your local Senator. Chuck "Jigsaw" Creekmur is the co-founder of AllHipHop.com.

George Orwell was right. A close friend of mine hit me up and he was seriously concerned. To frame this properly, I have to say this brother is one of the most apathetic street dudes I know, but he was worried about the United States of America. Here is why. Over the years, slowly but surely, through a number of methods such as the Patriot Act and others, our Civil Rights have been eroded like a California coastline. Now, I’m only half of an activist, but I see things beyond the nose on my ugly face. Now, my friend is uneasy about the future as well. My friend’s newfound awareness could be rooted in his two children, wife or his own personal growth. I’m certain he’s been questioning many things that have evolved (or devolved) in America, while maintaining cover under the stoic thug exterior. Me, I’ve always maintained an issue with authority and I’ve reserved a special contempt for those that regarded me a fool. So, when they talk about domestic surveillance and the government justifies it by saying, “Oh, we’re just looking for call patterns…you know, to see if Al Queda is making calls in and out of the States” I’m thinking I must have a fitted dunce cap on. This is what I call an unhealthy amount of Vaseline. And I’m not gonna sit idly by and get screwed without a peep. Domestic surveillance is just another slide down that slippery slope of deception with this administration. Now, aside from the administration, there are a number of problems that exist. Here are a couple of them. 1) You have some civilians that are blind patriots reading the governments speeches in a fog of death. 2) And then you have others that are blinded by the mirage of Hip-Hop, sports, DJ Star, Wendy, realistic video games, myspace, beats, money and other distractions like my highly addictive rumors. Still, I’m not the fool and I’m not a part of the problem. I’m painted inside the big picture and refuse to be removed – despite what people want. My boy is the same in that our conversation quickly spiraled into a myriad of topics. Planes struck the main Twin Towers, but why did WTC7 crumble? Nothing even hit it! Where are the leaders, inside and outside of the African American community? Where are all these terrorists that are hiding – Canada? My apathetic friend pointed out that the U.S. has satellites that can see a nickel on New York’s bustling Broadway, but they can’t find Bin Laden? Hell, I can see my mother’s house if I type her address in Google Earth. Maybe they should type in Laden’s address? Bush has already admitted to tapping phones, soon after they are “trolling to protect the American people," searching civilians bags in New York, increased military presence and even seeking to control the internet, which has leveled the information playing field. [Read about the sweeping, dramatic changes that the government is trying to quietly legislate the Internet.] Many of these changes defy the laws of the land not to mention common sense for common people. My boy noted that both of us have lost several friends to the streets, drugs, random violence and disease. Never was the government overtly involved in protecting us. I’m scared of you, Mr. The Man! Lets run down a list of how “they” have conducted themselves in the last few years . War crimes in Iraq that equate to a never-ending conflict, where Americans continue to die. Military torture in secret prisons Inadequate armor on our soldiers. The Patriot Act. Previous wiretapping Leaking and covering up the leak of the identity of Valerie Plame Wilson, CIA Operative. And, say, Katrina…and a host of others (show somebody real the money!) And America would love to have you “non-documented” immigrants from South of the Border. They just need you to be the new testing ground for Bush’s biometric ID cards. No Vaseline-style, homey. It reminds me of the rice-sized microchip they tried to introduce in the aftermath of Sept. 11 under the guise of your family easily finding your charred remains in terrorist-inspired rubbish. When the dumbest patriot didn’t fall for that one, they began to make it a cool idea to insert these chips to locate lost cats and stray dogs. Pets, African Americans, New Yorkers and Mexicans actually have a lot in common when you look at it. We’re all the testing grounds for the bigger plan. Closer to home, it is time to hear more defiance in Hip-Hop – a concerted defiance in harmony. Your rims, your money, your girls, you dudes, your fancy kicks and clothing amount to nothing when so-called freedom is in a stranglehold. Hip-Hop is the only African American voice “they” care about these days and we aren’t even saying much. They aren’t listening to the old African American leaders [even though Hip-Hop needs to connect with them for a base of youth, power and experience]. I still feel George Orwell’s 1984 predictions were right, but the ending doesn’t have to be the same as what he wrote in 1948. If we want, the people can overcome blind fear in the face of a looming totalitarian state. Again, this editorial is simply a start like my conversation with my friend. Read up. Look up. Look around. And tell me what you see. Then tell me what you are going to do. Part II of This Editorial: F**k You Hip-Hop, You B***h A** N****s Illseed is AllHipHop.com’s resident cultural critic and writer of many sorry rumors. To contact him, email him about what you see.

America’s Black misleadership class, which is nearly indistinguishable from its Black business class, has struck again. In a stunning coup, a mainline African American voting rights group has been enlisted on the side of AT&T and other telecom monopolies in their legislative push to privatize the Internet and roll back hundreds of agreements with local communities that force these monopolies to extend Internet and cable service to poor and rural communities around the country. A time-worn corporate technique for dishonestly manipulating public opinion is to create what are called in the world of public relations, industry-funded organizations and front groups. The indispensable site SourceWatch.org spells it out like this: "An industry-funded organization receives funding from a company or industry and often acts as a mouthpiece for views that serve the industry’s economic interests… Industry-funded organizations come in many shapes and sizes… trade associations, think tanks, non-profit advocacy groups, and media outlets. Some of these organizations serve as ‘third parties’ for public relations campaigns. The third party technique has been defined by one PR executive as ‘putting your words in someone else’s mouth.’” "A front group… purports to represent one agenda while in reality it serves some other party or interest whose sponsorship is hidden or rarely mentioned. The front group is perhaps the most easily recognized use of the third party technique. For example, the Center for Consumer Freedom (CCF) claims that its mission is to defend the rights of consumers to choose to eat, drink and smoke as they please. In reality, CCF is a front group for the tobacco, restaurant and alcoholic beverage industries, which provide all or most of its funding…” For this legislative sales season, the telecommunications monopolies have created a deceptively named corporate mouthpiece called Hands Off the Internet. Its chief public spokesman is former Clinton White House official Mike McCurry. A look at the Hands Off member organizations reveals a list of the usual suspects like the American Conservative Union, the Center for Individual Freedom, and the notorious National Association of Manufacturers. As bankrollers and hosts of the party, one expects to see AT&T and Cingular listed, and they are. Renting Black Republicans is neither a new nor a big deal, so the National Black Chamber of Commerce, which recently fronted for the proposed privatization of Social Security on the grounds that fewer African Americans lived to collect it, is along for the ride too. In their attention to detail the telecom monopolies have even rented the traditional contingent of Black preachers, constructed them a web site and bestowed upon them the title of Ministerial Alliance Against the Digital Divide. Black Commentator was quite surprised, however to see one of the mainstays of Black voting rights activism listed among the members of the telecom astroturf group: the National Coalition on Black Civic Participation. How and why did this happen? What does it mean for NCBCP and for what remains of the civil rights movement? Why Network Neutrality is a Black Issue On April 27, Black Commentator published two stories about CBC member Bobby Rush’s sponsorship of this year’s noxious telco legislation. We explained how the Rush-Barton Act, also called the COPE Act or HR 5252, would kill off public access TV, strip towns and cities of the right to force cable monopolies to serve blacker and poorer areas in return for being able to do business in the wealthier parts of town, and allow companies to charge web sites like this one for allowing content or email to reach users. We called attention to the acceptance of a million dollar donation by a tentacle of AT&T to a not for profit organization associated with the congressman. All this earned us a call that morning from a Chicago-based defender of the congressman. Black Commentator was making a big mistake, the caller told us, by leading with the issue of network neutrality. Our deeply misguided caller accused us of playing into the hands of white media activists. Network neutrality, she said again and again in the course of an hour long conversation, was just not "our issue.” But when a Black member of congress accepts a million dollar telco donation for a supposed community-based project in his district, and turns up as co-sponsor of telco legislation to redline and disempower Black communities nationwide, along with suppressing everybody’s freedom of access to the Internet, it is indeed a Black issue. When AT&T rents Black ministers and Black Republican sock puppets like the National Black Chamber of Commerce, and even recruits the National Coalition on Black Civic Participation to its team, network neutrality has very definitely become a Black issue. The incongruity of the National Coalition on Black Civic Participation finding itself in bed with AT&T, the American Conservative Union and the National Association of Manufacturers is downright striking when you look at who serves on the NCBCP Board of Directors. To start with, there’s Dr. Howard Dean, whose campaign for president would have been impossible without a free and open Internet. There are luminaries like Dr. Joseph Lowery and Dr. Ron Walters of the African American Leadership Institute. We counted at least a dozen representatives of labor unions, including an assistant to AFL-CIO president John Sweeny, the UAW and UFCW, AFCSME, SEIU, and both national teachers unions and the A. Philip Randolph Institute. After an NCBCP staffer assured Black Commentator on the phone that “Yes, we signed off on that,” Black Commentator phoned and emailed more than a dozen NCBCP board members affiliated with labor unions. Of the six that returned our calls or emails, all claimed to be unaware of the connection between NCBCP and the telco front group. Those few we had actual conversations with before this article was posted expressed horror at the company NCBCP seemed to be keeping, and some said they’d be taking the matter up with NCBCP executive director Melanie Campbell. Our assumption is that some NCBCP staff and board members committed this act of treachery against the interests of African […]

His eyes turned a pretty shade of brown when light hit them. Especially the light of the sun or of a camera’s flash. On his high cheeks, like his father’s, were dozens of freckles, like his mother’s. Between the freckles, were two barely noticeable places where his deep honey brown complexion lightened. I loved those patches. DeShaun Holton was handsome. He was cute with big crooked teeth that even he made fun of. He was thin and wiry. He was smart. He could engage you in fascinating conversation, if he felt like talking. He almost always did. He was funny. Ridiculously funny. It was said that he would step on a sandwich and then eat it. On the DVD that accompanies his only solo album, Searching for Jerry Garcia, he drinks beer out of an ashtray. Cigarette butts and all, he spits one out of his mouth, as European fans laugh. I saw him put his whole face in his 28th birthday cake. He would do almost anything to make someone laugh. He was charming. He was interested in the lives of people. Not just people he knew and loved, but everyday people. He was well-read. He had a deep spirituality, he was not religious, but had converted to Islam in his youth. He was a father, and a husband. He loved his children, and the children of his friends. He was a godfather, and had given several children their names. He was filled with deep ideas about life and death. He was a devoted community activist, and even named his company after Joe Louis’ “Iron Fist”. His passion for Detroit is unsurpassed. He has been called “Detroit’s Best Friend,” it is an accurate description. He was an incredible freestyle rapper. I was at a club where he walked from tabletop to tabletop and freestyled for over 45 minutes straight. Rhyming and Transitioning. As the DJ switched the beat, he switched his flow. He found a way to rhyme the word “orange” he would use “aren’t” stretched out in its pronunciation. He thought about things like that. Where there was a will, there was a way for Proof. He has been called “The Mayor of Detroit Hip-Hop,” that is also accurate. He was the law-giver, the peace maker, he was an employer, a provider, he inspired people to success, and cared about the well-being of his constituency. By his own hands he cultivated a community of artists, writers, clothing designers, graphic artists, business owners, and more. He was the single most important figure of Detroit’s Hip-Hop movement and the development of a Hip-Hop music and culture scene. That action provided jobs, and sold millions of records and has had an economic impact in the hundreds of millions of dollars. He was a Master Teacher, he was a Sefu, he was a wise sage, who with his clever words could say just one line to comfort, and educate. He was not a perfect man. He made mistakes, as we all do. However, a glimpse at his rap sheet, does not give one an idea of who he was as a person. He was a fighter at times, however he preferred peace. If there was a problem, he was called in to solve it, and his word was law. When he said a disagreement was over, it was done. He was not a gun-slinging thug. However, he lived by the credo “It’s better to have one and not need it, than need one and not have it.” It’s an oldie but goodie. The tattoos on his body each symbolized something precious and significant to his life. Like the FC he got for the group, Funky Cowboy that he was in with J. Dilla. He liked the smell of incense, and he liked women. He cut his long dreads and opted for a baldhead. He didn’t smoke marijuana, but clove cigarettes favored by clever celebrities and people from India. He did corny ‘80s dances, and had his own two-step. He was kind and very affectionate. He liked to kiss. He always greeted women with a kiss on their cheek, and very often the men in his life as well. He always kissed my daughter on her forehead with her face in his hands. He very often said, “I love you,” to everyone. He wanted you to know that he loved you, and he meant it. He showed it. And on April 19th, we lay him down for eternity. We kissed his cold cheek and later, kissed his cold casket. At his internment, Reverend Wendell Anthony, who officiated the service and is the head of the Detroit Branch of the NAACP, told us that this was as far as we could travel with our brother. Thirty-two white doves were released amid flashes from camera phones and slight sobs. We looked at each other, dazed and confused. This was it? We had walked with him so long, sometimes in front, sometimes behind and sometimes side by side, and now we had to leave him here alone? It is still hard to believe, daily. Detroit lost J. Dilla on February 10 th, and we were heartbroken. The next day, Proof was on the radio talking about his friend who he was once in a duo group with. And just two months later, Funky Cowboy were reunited in death. They are missed. Every day. Every show. Every event. Every gathering of two or more, and in every heart of their friends. As I prepared to finish this essay, I passed the cemetery where Proof lies entombed. I made a U-Turn, and decided to go see him for the first time. There was another funeral ending. Another family walking away from someone that they loved. I watched them leave with reverence. I approached the Rosa Parks Freedom Chapel, and a woman stopped me. “Excuse me? Are you here to see Mrs. Parks?” I told her who I was there to see. She nods gravely, “Yes. He gets a […]

With death seemingly lying dormant beneath the surface of Hip-Hop, is there any hope in sight for the victims that lay in the aftermath of its wake? The answer, for Hip-Hop artists at least, would appear to be yes. Immortalized by lyrics that stereotypically glorify death, we all but deify our cultural martyrs. And while respect is due for the talents of the slain, can it go too far? Perhaps in an attempt to ease our grief, somewhere along the line we’ve rationalized that the tragic conditions lived (or very well depicted) by the likes of Biggie and Pac somehow grants them a free pass into heaven. In doing so, while we’ve managed to honor their memories, we simultaneously disregard and downplay the only hope of a heavenly afterlife. But wait! Before you stone me for daring to suggest that those we’ve lost didn’t make it to heaven or being so bold as to talk about religion in Hip Hop, ask yourself this: how ritual has Hip Hop become to us? Is it not a movement that empowers the downtrodden – seen as a savior for the lives of those that cross over into its success? Is it not studied by zealots as a religious temple and revered as a platform to speak and act against social class imbalances and injustice – just as the Baptist Church was the center of the civil rights movement back in the 50’s? Even with these similarities, we must not confuse ourselves by entertaining the soulful preservation of those who’ve been murdered in the cause. Let us not forget the history of violence that has been in the world before Hip Hop and will remain forever after; and in doing so, let us not forget that its unfounded association to our culture of music doesn’t merit God’s acceptance of those that have suffered because of it. For the heroes of Hip Hop, heaven’s gates open the same way as it does for us: through the Son of God. Otherwise, we’re all walking around with wool over our eyes in an attempt to absorb the tears that have been shed for our fallen. “If Hip-Hop Had a Heaven” If Hip-Hop let thugs in heaven, Would Kristoff St. John open the gates for its young and restless – Would gun possession be exorcised and extradited? Would pitchin’ rocks from drug professions Be forgotten since this option was left from smug oppression?… Since the government let it in – would they set the chips aside to tithe it?!! If Hip Hop had layovers in heaven, Would ‘Jay Hova’ be a less unpleasant ref’rence? Would Holy Hip Hop be more prevalent in modern day rap? Would a collar on Run seem as irreverent? Could self-martyrdom from Nas’ gun have been more effective?… What if Jay resurrected – could rap be saved if this star came back? Would there be a difference between ‘god’ and ‘dun?’ What about Nastrodamus’ depiction as God’s son?!! Was it all in fun – or was this part of a grander scheme? As outlandish as this may seem to folks, I’ve seen patterns of a meaner joke In something we promote in homage to gangsta leans. Though rap today has a few numero unos The price they pay plays to the tune of funerals. Eulogy beats are the usual for their deadwood dogma. To gain green funds in large profits, The mainstream floods in false prophets… Spreading gangrene in uncut doctrine – deposited in coffins of embellished hood mantras. But what if Hip-Hop echoed heaven on earth? Would New Jerus’ peruse ghetto havens first? Could its save and reverse its romanticized condition? Would it release the populace or keep it enslaved With the greed of coppin’ chips, cheese and chains?… Or is it too ashamed for how far we’ve franchised our position? With heaven’s common grounds on our premises Would we continue to walk around as our most powerful nemesis? If we could break out of the syndicate, would its synthesis surely break down? Would rap keep recruitin’ legions of shootin’ demons? If so, would it be so bad that it harbors a slew of heathens?!!… Would Jews still lead in recoupin’ green endz with the Pearly Gates around? If Hip-Hop had heaven harnessed for a new season Would Common Be the constant gardener of New Eden? Such honest guardians are few and far in between my brothers’ keep. After all, at The Roots of our Black Stars’ depths, Too few truly acknowledge their talents’ charged debt… Despite immaculate concepts, they challenge God with plundering feats. Too busy in hell’s kitchen bakin’ up fake stunts to bail out, Hip-Hop’s been placed on a hellmouth. Even if heaven replaced it, Ma$e would still be a sellout, to say the least. Without unleaded gas to fuel its head of steam, Would rap exhume its unleavened recipe?… Or is it too consumed by the commune of an un-heavenly destiny of wasted yeast? Will Hip-Hop’s soul ever rise to the occasion again – where were you the day it died? Is it too early to mourn – at its wake will we Rize? Or will it be too late to realize as we writhe in the pain of its loss? Since its souls been sold to the devil’s embezzled team, Would Hip-Hop even make it to heaven’s mezzanine?!!… Will we wake from the hellish scene of this unsettled dream to take up its cross? If heaven was a mile away and Hip-Hop a close shaven second, Which one would host the most of our jaded brethren? Would Ghostface be a reverend to cajole the Supreme Being’s clientele? Would the Three 6 Mafia be revealed as the mark of the beast Or merely a market of street beefs?… Would we finally take off its leash? – only time will tell. If cops sprayed the booth with Eminem in it, Since he made it in Hip Hop, could he pay Proof an eminent visit – Or were his sentiments too […]

I read the recent New York Times cover story, “Plight Deepens for Black Men, Studies Warn,” with a great deal of pain and sadness. As a Black man who is in his late 30s, I have literally encountered every dilemma documented: I am the product of a single-mother led household, fatherlessness, horrific poverty, omnipresent violence in and outside of the tenements of my youth, and the kind of hopelessness, depression, and low self-esteem which led me to believe, very early on, that my world was just one big ghetto, that Black boys like me were doomed to a prison stint or a premature death, that there was nothing we could do about it. For sure, much of my life has been spent attempting to both reconcile and ward off the demons of those circumstances. On the one hand I managed to get to college on a financial aid package because my mother instilled in me, in spite of her possessing only a grade-school education, a love of knowledge. But, by the same token, the cruel variables of my adolescent years followed me into adulthood, leading to temper tantrums, arrests, suspension from college, job firings, and violent behavior toward males and females which has only subsided in the past couple of years because of a renewed and determined commitment to therapy, healing, self-love, and spiritual transformation. I have had a very productive career as a writer and I have been homeless and hungry as a grown-up. I have traveled much of America lecturing and bringing people together, and I have burned more bridges than I care to admit. And I have been a great model for Black male achievement to some, while a symbol of the worst aspects of contemporary Black masculinity to others. It is not an easy balancing act, because most of us poorer, fatherless Black males, especially, were not presented with a blueprint for manhood as boys, other than the most destructive forms in our ‘hoods and via popular culture. Thus we find ourselves stumbling through minefields riddled with systemic racism, classism, drugs, guns, crime, gangs, minimal expectations, unprotected sex, disease, and death. We often have to figure this all out for ourselves, with little guidance or direction. And we are, indeed, those homeboys you see on America’s street corners, left alone to fester and rot our lives away. For me these days there is a foundation, a calling, which has led, the past half decade, to my seeking solutions to this monumental crisis around Black manhood. I am brutally honest about every aspect of my life journey, I highlight it in my writings, and I talk about it on college campuses, at prisons, in churches. I organized a ten-city State of Black Men tour in 2004, and I have been a part of various think tanks, like the Twenty-First Century Foundation’s initiative on Black boys and Black men, in an effort to confront this catastrophe head-on. And I have placed my time and energies in full support of anti-violence and anti-domestic violence programs locally and nationally. Without question, so much of American maleness is rooted in the belief of White male superiority, patriarchy, sexism, homophobia, violence, materialism, and it is abundantly clear how those stimuli disproportionately and disastrously affect poor Black males. Or, rather, what was said in the New York Times article is accurate in each and every city I have visited: “We’re pumping out boys with no honest alternative.” Part of the problem, undeniably, is perpetual governmental neglect at the federal, state, and local levels. If a similar article had been written with the heading “Plight Deepens for White Men, Studies Warn,” it would be considered a national emergency, monies would be earmarked for a domestic Marshall Plan focusing on these White males, and empowerment policies would be implemented immediately. It is disturbing to say that, regardless of all the hard fought victories of the Civil Rights Movement, we remain a nation profoundly damaged by racism and classism. Little wonder, then, that as I work with and talk to younger Black males in urban settings they aspire to be three things: a rapper, an athlete, or some form of a street hustler. These limited life options exist because not only has governmental agencies largely abandoned this population, but so too has the Black middle class, and, specifically, those of us who are Black male professionals. It is a very obvious phenomenon to me: in segregated America, Blacks were forced to dwell in the same neighborhoods. Thus even if you were a poor Black male, you at least saw, in your community on a regular basis, Black men with college degrees, Black men who were doctors, lawyers, businessmen-Black men who offered a proactive alternative to the harsh realities of one’s poverty-stricken life. Integration not only brought about wholesale physical removal of the Black middle class, but also wholesale emotional removal as well. A broken relationship, if you will, that has never been mended. This is the vacuum, the gaping hole, for the record, that created hiphop culture, a predominantly poor Black and Latino male-initiated art form, in America’s ghettoes right on the heels of the Civil Rights era in the late 1960s, early 1970s. And this is why hiphop, to this day, with its contradictions notwithstanding, remains the primary beacon of hope for poor African American males. I cannot begin to count how many underprivileged Black males across the nation have said to me “Hiphop saved my life.” That speaks volumes about what we as a society and as citizens are not doing to assist the less fortunate among us. So as we rightfully petition the government, on all levels, to work to improve the opportunities for poor Black males, to view this crisis surrounding Black boys and Black men as linked to the very future and livelihood of America, I issue a challenge to professional, successful Black males like myself: Become a breathing, living example for these poor Black boys and men. Share life lessons […]

Below is a speech I gave in Watsonville, CA on April 17th 2006. I was invited to come down and speak by the Watsonville Brown Berets. Fred Hampton Jr. of the P.O.C.C. and Immortal Technique also represented HARD that day. It was an amazing display of racial, political, religious and Hip Hop unity. There were b-boy circles, tons of performers, spoken word poets and vocal performers. Mexican, Black, Asian, White, Arab and Native Americans all came together in peace. There was no violence and no threats of violence. I must commend the Berets on making everyone feel welcome, secure and for running an efficient schedule. I don’t have the official numbers but I estimated about 700 people to have been in attendance. As Salaam Alaikum, My name is Adisa Banjoko. I am the author of Lyrical Swords Vol. 2: Westside Rebellion. It deals with Black and Brown unity. It deals with a lot of political and social issues that we face every day. I speak in a lot of places. Sometimes it’s prisons, sometimes it’s universities. Today I am honored to be here with the Brown Berets. I am honored to be here with the beautiful people of Watsonville. I came today to talk about peace and unity. Peace and unity is something that we absolutely have to have in this moment, dealing with the Bush Administration and the things we face today. The Black people of America cannot do it alone. The Latino people cannot do it alone. The Arab cannot do it alone. The Muslim, the Christian and the Jew cannot do it alone. The Buddhist cannot do it alone. We have to be unified in this moment. Peace and unity are both byproducts of knowledge. Meaning that when I first got into knowledge of self, as an African American, I was only focused on that. It took me a moment to learn about the beauty of the Mayan people, of the Aztec people, of Cesar Chavez and Delores Huerta. I had to do that to be a true humanist. You have to read about humanity! If all I read about is me, and all I care about are the struggles of the Black man- then I’m going to have a very small window [to see the spectrum of life through]. We have to take the time to defend one another. We cannot be afraid to defend one another. I am here defending you. Defending what you stand for. Defending your rights. This is your land. I won’t pretend that it’s not. I stand here today as a descendent of slaves. I am a descendent of SLAVES. I am Muslim. But the Dali Lama was here in the Bay Area just the other day with Hamza Yusuf from the Zaytuna Institute. They built upon the peaceful nature of both of these faiths. My faith has been demonized by the press. Since 9/11, many people from Saudi Arabia, many people from Pakistan, many people from Palestine, Iran and Yemen were harassed. They were sent to prison and abused by this Bush Administration. This was because of their faith, because of their race. We must make America live up to its words on paper. Not just for my sake. Not just for your sake. Its for the sake of all people who walk on this soil. We deserve this justice. We are not asking for anything that is not already on paper. We are not asking for anything we don’t already know that belongs to us here. It belongs to us here! When you look at the ghettos across America, we’re very lucky to be on the West Coast. Our integration levels are much higher than in other places like New York. The Blacks and Latinos don’t always mesh [out there]. That’s tragic. But that’s why the Bay Area is so special. That’s why we have to seize this moment right now. That’s why we cannot hesitate to defend one another in this moment. My father is originally from New Orleans- from the Magnolia projects. My mother is originally from Monroe, Louisiana. But when my father came to the Bay in his youth, he grew up in the Mission District. As a young boy, I was always around Delores Park. I was always around 24th and Mission. I was always around my Latino peoples. I don’t have another frame of reference for Latino peoples than my brothers. I have no other frame of reference. It’s the first brotherhood I knew. Whether you are Mexican, Nicaraguan, Panamanian, Brazilian, Puerto Rican- we are all in the ghetto together! Oppressed by the same people. Struggling to get the same knowledge- that they hide from us in the schools. Struggling, to not be abused by the police. Struggling to find work and provide for our families, for our children and be safe. Unity is the key. Arab unity. Black unity. Latino, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist Jew. The realest of us. THE REALEST OF US! We are all attacked by this administration. But there is another enemy. Before I get to the other enemy, I must mention that these people who attack us…who don’t like events like this…This is why today’s event is so important. These people don’t respect our history and they don’t want our children to know it. They don’t want your children to know their beautiful history- of Aztlan. They don’t want my children to know the beautiful history of Africa. But this other enemy- they are people within BOTH of our cultures. We have to work against the people who look like me- but they are against Black and Brown unity. We need to work against the people who look like YOU- but they are against Black and Brown unity. Because they can hurt this more than the Bush Administration, more than right wing republicans. More than any of them! We need to cleanse our own people, of the bigotry, and the fear [that causes distrust in our hearts]. I will take […]

OK, I have to admit, I got Lupe Fiasco’s album, Food & Liquor. When it was first leaked, I resisted the urge to download it all of 24 hours before I caved into the impulse to see what this Chicago native had to offer. See, I had already snatched up his mixtapes and I was completely curious about the self-proclaimed nerd from an artistic and commercial point of view. I’ve been following this kid ever since he appeared on AllHipHop.com (well maybe a lil’ before), but there are several points about Lupe that are interesting. I was impressed by his penchant for clean (not corny) lyrics and I’ve been impressed by his lyricism, which exemplifies creativity, depth and old school sensibility with a new school twist. With that said, I hope this leak doesn’t destroy the young MC. I read a statement on the Internet where he said, “Its stuff like this that makes you wanna just be like f**k it. A lotta time and money and bulls**t went into creating that album.” He almost sounds broken. If anything, it should serve as an energy boost because the frenzy over his music is like piranha over a bloody carcass. But Food & Liquor doesn’t have to be that carcass if the geniuses over at Atlantic Records concoct a way to generate new, profitable interest in this mini-masterpiece. In the past when leaks occurred, labels have added bonus cuts, golden tickets, platinum chains and just about anything else to coax the masses of sheepish consumers back to the store. This one thing I know: Lupe Fiasco needs Food & Liquor in his catalogue. Why? This freshman effort is as refreshing as I anticipated. Even though Lupe has been pushed and promoted as a nerdy skater boy, he’s actually extremely thought provoking, analytical and has a style reminiscent of an early Jay-Z – think Jigga with no jiggy. He also evokes Nas’ Illmatic days, if one considers Food & Liquor as a canvas where Lupe (aka Cornel Westside) paints his Chicago experience with music. Songs like “Trials and Tribulations,” “Close Your Mind” and “Hustlaz Song” represent the streets without glorifying matters. When the DJ plays joints like “Spazz Out,” real nerds will be busting out of their pocket protectors, and thugs could become skate rats after hearing the organic “Kick Push.” But that’s assuming these people actually get to hear Food & Liquor. The Internet is getting quite ludacris…I mean, ludicrous (My bad, but forget the comparisons to Luda’s Chicken & Beer. There are no comparisons to the two!) It’s high time we as a people admit the downloading is out of control. I don’t think I ever thought I’d hear myself say this, but it’s killing the music and the experience of getting it. I remember the ‘90s and the vivid memories of waiting for THAT DAY that THAT ALBUM came out. Release day was like Christmas and the rappers were giving us a gift that we paid for. There was no getting it early, aside from the rare tape that got to the ‘hood in advance. And when somebody got that, they held on to it because it was like a freakin’ treasure! Selfish bastards. Furthermore, they didn’t want to hurt the career of that particular artist – there was a personal connection. Anyway, now the labels and the artist’s supporters are raping the artists in their own way! It’s getting insane. I would say it’s a sick form of reparations from all the garbage that we do buy, but it’s not. Smarten up, is what all parties are going to have to do, or die. Perhaps, Lupe could offer the whole album for exclusive download on his Web site and allow people to pay? Maybe they can beef Food & Liquor up with some of those cameos he suggested in his statement? If it were up to me, I’d just release it, but that’s why I’m a peripheral player in the music game! In my view, this is the best album this year, which I’m sure will be seen as blaspheme with the likes of T.I., E-40 and Ghostface currently on the market. I’ve already listened to it more than most albums this year, barring the King of the South. But although I have a hot album on my computer, I feel a bit melancholy. I would’ve liked trekking to the local record store with eagerness to get Food & Liquor, marching to the register and putting the CD in my CD player after tearing the plastic off. Instead, I scrambled to a Web site for Food & Liquor to download it from a link before it expired, burned a copy and loaded it onto my iPod. I guess it’s not all that different…but there leaves Lupe Fiasco and his five-year work in limbo. I’m going to buy Food & Liquor regardless, should it be released commercially and I urge others to follow suit. There is no need to abort our future favorites before they even get started. Still, if Lupe is as nerdy and creative as he boldly proclaims, he will be able to invent a new work of art that surpasses even this. Good luck. Illseed is AllHipHop.com’s resident cultural critic even though nobody on staff will co-sign him. You can respond to this at his blog at http://myspace.com/theillseed.

Shots Fired * DISCLAIMER * The words expressed here to NOT condone or advocate any violence that should be directed towards any government officials. It is to be strictly considered as allegorical and artistic expression interpreted as social commentary. * DISCLAIMER * You’ve got to love the American government. If it deem something or someone to be a threat – it isolates and neutralizes the situation. Our best interests are being protected on the daily by a select few that represent constituents deemed incapable of governing themselves. But what happens when the head of such a noble initiative becomes drunk with power? What happens when checks and balances bounce from internal corruption? What authority do we have to correct it? Power to the people – this is essentially what early American colonists separated from Britain for. This is what was at the roots of why Protestants branched away from Catholicism… and THIS is what we have to reclaim today. If we are the ones who generate the income that drives this economy, then how is it that we aren’t allowed to navigate it when we see the vehicle’s being driven with reckless abandon? This nation would be nothing without it’s people, but fear and apathy have all but deadened and effectively ‘neutralized’ this basic concept. In order to grasp such an inherent philosophy, sometimes we need to be jolted into taking hold of it. Had I written this after seeing V for Vendetta, I might have been able to say that the movie influenced me – but this words run deeper than that. It’s high time we suited up. It only takes one shot to change the course of history… and we’ve been on the wrong side of the scope far too many times. “Shots Fired: A Militant’s Initiative” a.k.a. “One in the Hand’s Worth Shootin’ at Bush” ‘…Terrorists with etiquette who fought and killed their president, Their capacity for evil so evident and prevalent…’ – Beautiful Struggle, Going Hard Talib Kweli For a land with such a history of violence Aimed at civic tendencies to silence, Why haven’t bullets been sent vividly flyin’ towards the head of state?!! He deserves to be snuffed – who’s got the n####### To take him out to pasture in a dirt nap rough patch?… He’s proven himself worthy to be bucked at – I’m ready to see bills with this dead prez’s face. Not that he’s done anything to be valorized – I just want his deadness glamorized. Damn his lies – put ‘em in a coffin with his lame retorts. Since he insists on such stiff-lipped lying, Let him do it in a box where he can refine his pining… Let him die trying – since gettin’ rich is his favorite sport. That goal’s from his father’s stint – he’s inherited a message That bears a merit-less essence. He blatantly waves this surrogate vestige as his stars and stripes. With such arrogant salience invested, It’s easy to see the real terrorist presence… It’s our American president – he’s given us cause to snipe. Someone oughtta strike for the jobs that were lost. Let’s stop skeetin’ around the bush – who’s gonna bus’ a shot at this fraud?!! Texans understand martial law – they shot Kennedy under it. So who’s gonna do it – who’s gonna test arms Against the Presi-don’s Teflon?!!… He’s already got some red on – let the tie dye hide the splatter pattern when the candidate’s memory sullies it. That’s candid liberty – I wanna see headshots of pink mist. If that makes me an extremist, so be it! I’m a Pink Panther relinquished – a supreme linguist with literal clips to load. Besides, this n####’s already brain dead – So a trigger might as well have the same said As someone rains lead aimed at his head ‘til his pitiful temple explodes. Since he wants a monarchy so bad it seems, Let’s let a marksmen mark his mockery with king magazines. That’s something Dick would be glad to see – I see a stroke comin’ on! His dead precedence deserves a 21 gun salute. So let the lead-resinous resonance tumble through… Isn’t anyone gonna shoot?!! – who’s got the scope and muzzle drawn?!! With such atrocious acts against the dawn of man’s kindness, How come no one’s approached the madness or drawn a line to blindside him? His heinous highness aligns him sighted – it’s a righteous and serious hit. But as much as Bush is a minstrel ranger on a ranch farm, He’s like that monthly menstrual stranger with a tampon… He’s in no visible danger of being tagged, y’all – this slack jaw’s not bleeding… period. COME ON!!! – who’s gonna send him into early retirement? I thought everyone was sick and tired of him? Who’s gonna lit’rally fire him – who’s gonna hire some firemen to douse his ego?!! Who’s gonna show some initiative? Your pension is his – step to the plate and pinch hit this gimp… He oughtta be pistol-whipped – who’s gonna clip the wings of this proud eagle?!! Doesn’t he have the wrong group p##### at him now – isn’t GOP ready to cap their capo?!! They tolerated this goof – as long as he listened, they retracted their ammo. Their contract’s a preamble – every politician knows the rules. Ask Black activists, civil rights advocates and Whittington – Warning shots are NOT what they avidly give to men… They’ve got accurate triggermen with a tolerance that’s low and cruel. He’s a heated and debated society hazard like chain-smokin’. His inebriated sobriety’s been plastered by vain emotions. That’s why Cheney should smoke him – absolute power corrupts absolutely, but there’s a greater irony. Since Quayle was Bush’s deuce leader, He oughtta be shot like quails in bushes with true leisure… Like Brutus and Caesar, brute seizures usually peak when tyrants lead. Besides, we can’t depend on Dems to fend – they’re too used to the shoe’s other foot. They’ve always been […]

Over the past year, the hip-hop community has come under intense scrutiny and criticism for the wildly popular “Stop Snitching” campaign. The movement, which has been accompanied by a flurry of t- shirts, songs, websites, and DVDs, is ideologically grounded in the belief that people should not cooperate with law enforcement authorities under any circumstances. In addition, Lil Kim’s 2005 conviction and one year prison sentence for obstruction of justice, Cam’ron’s refusal to help police find the person who shot him during an attempted robbery in October 2005, Busta Rhymes’ and Tony Yayo’s refusal to speak to police about the February 2006 murder of Rhymes’ bodyguard Israel Ramirez at a video shoot, and the now infamous “Stop Snitching” DVD featuring NBA star Carmelo Anthony, have all increased the recent amount of public attention paid to the centuries-old politics of snitching. In response to the “Stop Snitching” campaign, community organizations, politicians, and law enforcement agencies have mounted a full-fledged counter-movement, informally titled “Start Snitching”, designed to encourage the hip-hop generation to cooperate with authorities when criminal acts are committed. To be certain, the issue of snitching is neither restricted to nor rooted in hip-hop culture. Within most American communities, reporting other people’s bad acts is a practice that is strongly discouraged. Judaic, Islamic, and Christian laws all speak negatively about backbiting and gossip. Mantras like “don’t be a tattle tale” and “snitches get stitches” serve as early childhood reminders for many Americans, irrespective of race and class, of the moral and pragmatic consequences that accompany snitching. Prominent white Americans like New York Times writer Judith Miller, who recently came under attack from her neo-conservative comrades for failing to expose Lewis “Scooter” Libby, have paid dearly (multi-million dollar book deals notwithstanding) for their commitments to secrecy. Even the police, who are among the strongest opponents of the “Stop Snitching” movement, have a ‘blue code’ of silence that protects them from internal snitches. Nevertheless, the hip-hop community has absorbed the brunt of the public attack on snitching, with little effort given to examining the unique significance of snitching within urban communities. While critics dismiss the “Stop Snitching” campaign as a rejection of civic responsibility that further verifies dominant public beliefs about the moral incompetence of the hip-hop generation, a closer analysis reveals a much more complicated set of issues that have gone unaddressed. In its a priori dismissal of the “Stop Snitching” campaign, the general public has failed to acknowledge the moral complexity and legitimacy of an anti-snitching position. In all fairness, this is partially the fault of the hip-hop industry itself, which has marketed “Stop Snitching” in ways that undermine any claims to moral authority by not placing any conditions or caveats on its pleas for silence. While it is certainly problematic to condemn all acts of communication with authorities, it is equally shortsighted and irresponsible to advocate an absolute pro-snitching position. The act of snitching necessarily creates a social and ethical quagmire in which an individual must sacrifice one set of loyalties for another. More specifically, the potential snitch is forced to choose between competing ethical codes and social commitments when making their decision. Often, this process entails deciding between locally defined rules and larger, more official ones. For example, Lil’ Kim’s refusal to identify her crew members as assailants during a shootout at the Hot 97 radio station was an anti-snitching gesture that privileged her friendship bonds and street ethics over the established laws of the land regarding obstruction of justice. While it is tempting to condemn all such acts on moral or ethical grounds — in this case, arguing that Kim should have protected the interests of the assaulted and not those of the assailants — it is necessary to consider the validity and value of the particular rules and issues at stake on a case-by-case basis. It is also important to understand the various ways that snitching is considered and discussed within the context of hip-hop culture. Dry Snitching Dry snitching is one of the most common practices within contemporary hip-hop culture. The term emerged from prison culture to describe an inmate who, in an effort to avoid a confrontation, would talk loudly or otherwise draw attention to himself in order to attract a nearby correctional officer. This is done as a way of “snitching without snitching”. Dry snitching also refers to the act of implicating someone else, intentionally or unintentionally, while speaking to an authority figure. Dry snitches are typically considered to be weak, naive, passive aggressive, or self-centered, all of which present ethical and practical dilemmas that must be weighed when discussing the practice of snitching. For example, before channeling Tupac and becoming America’s thug de jour, 50 Cent was a struggling rapper attempting to make a name for himself on the underground scene. In a 2000 song “Ghetto Quran”, 50 named and described many of New York’s most notorious drug dealers, including Pappy Mason, Rich Porter, Fat Cat, Prince, and Kenneth “Supreme” McGriff. The song earned 50 many enemies in New York’s crime underworld, who were angry at the precarious legal position in which they believed 50’s public disclosures might have placed them. It was this anger, according to the federal prosecutors involved in Chris and Irv Gotti’s recent trial that led to 50’s May 2000 shooting. To many observers, 50’s sonic, dry snitching revelations undermined the very ghetto authenticity that the song was intended to evince. Another example of dry snitching occurred in 2003, when Kobe Bryant was arrested on rape charges. While being interrogated, Bryant freely disclosed potentially embarrassing aspects of teammate Shaquille O’Neal’s personal life in order to gain favor with Colorado police. According to the Los Angeles Times, Kobe reportedly told the officers that he should have followed Shaq’s example and paid the woman not to say anything, adding that Shaq had already spend over one million dollars for those purposes. While some attributed this slip-up to Kobe’s inexperience in such situations — one of the reasons that the suburban bred […]