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In Shambles (And They’re Glad)
Im’a school kids
and tease ’em and please ’em
For the treason,
that’s the reason
Im’a squeeze ’em
-Del Tha Funkee Homosapien, No Need For Alarm
There’s a saying you may have encountered if you know any liberals inclined to sympathize with the ugliness that followed George Floyd’s murder. They say, “If people loved Black people as much as love Black culture, there wouldn’t be a problem.” Most of the people who make this point are Black themselves, or they are young. My experience with the young ones has shown me a couple of things: most of them are talking about Rap music, and that their attraction to it is borne of the same feeling that motivated Norman Mailer’s “white negroes” of the late 1950s. Boredom.
The issue with their line is simple. Black culture in the narrow sense they understand it is not as loved as they believe. My view of Hip Hop is nearly the same as the one I have on Country: Most of it is unappealing, offensive even; but when it’s good, it has all of the value that any other popular art form has to offer. I suspect few on this site truly share this in common with me; maybe not the Country bit, but with the Rap part.
You may be unfamiliar with this world – and that is a very fortunate thing for you – but I’d say it’s about time conservatives reconsider ignoring it. If I were to attribute any sin to Right, this would be it. Aren’t we supposed to go where the sinners go?
Lest there be any misunderstanding, I’d like to make one thing clear: I didn’t grow up in the Upper East Side or Beverly Hills, but I am about as privileged as they get. My preference is to flip the script and call it Gratitude, but I did grow up casual. That was a good thing, but I tend to think this means I owe something. (I’m not speaking for anybody else here, most of you probably owe less than I do.)
I understand that hearing misogynistic vulgarities, or songs which speak so casually about violence just isn’t everybody’s cup-o-tea. It isn’t mine either. I was raised to believe that the N-word is ugly, and shouldn’t be uttered, but I can appreciate that it means something different to people who have more to be angry about than I.
But I’d assume that most of the talk we have about the tragedies that grew out of The Great Society is had from a distance. Mightn’t we feel a bit more sour rage if it were our own mothers or the mothers of our children, that got in bed with Uncle Sam? Outkast’s “Mrs. Jackson,” The Pharcyde’s “Passin’ Me By,” or the aforementioned Del’s “Boo Booheads” are expressions of the bitterness which comes from these betrayals. This isn’t a one-way street, of course. Queen Latifah’s “U.N.I.T.Y.,” TLC’s “No Scrubs,” “Lauren Hill’s “Ex-Factor” were responses that hold their own as “classics.”
If we were raised in fatherless households where bars on the windows proved necessary, isn’t it reasonable that a young man might learn that hardness is essential to walking through this world fearlessly? Whenever boys take up football, we rightly acknowledge the importance that these future men to learn to channel anger; we further hope they’ll learn to become courageous and stand up for what’s right. Andre Benjamin’s, “Put my Glock away, I got a stronger weapon that never runs outta ammunition, so I’m ready for war, okay,” is one of the better iterations of this very common message in Hip Hop. Unfortunately, it was only people on the Left that took notice that a good message was prepared in a way that appeals to the ones who need to hear it. If you asked me how to get your kids to eat their vegetables, I’d recommend you figure out how to make them taste good.
Most kids are stupid, most are misguided, but none of them should be left to the vultures. Ask Chuck D:
Published in CultureBeware of the Hand
when it’s comin’ from the Left
I ain’t trippin’
Jus’ watch ya step.
Can’t Truss It!
http://ricochet.com/770377/honor-clint-eastwood/comment-page-2/#respond
Excellent. I’ve never heard that one. You might dig this.
This tune packs a punch – language warning. I still recommend a listen; it has a lot to say about the moral confusion that led my generation to trash our cities the past few weeks.
Lest I leave you with the impression that the artist above is just a nasty, angry young man, I’ll add this.
You may be pleased to know he calls himself “Tyler, The Creator.”
I must say, this Samuel Block fellow has, stone by stone, brick by brick, built a damned convincing case for taking pop culture as it stands and making some contact with its audience, which even includes (gasp!) us.
Oh my! Thank you. I really believe this is why I was put on this earth.
Well, that, plus making some lucky girl an ecstatically happy bride someday! ;-)
I got my eye on one. Wish me luck!
Oh I think you’ll do just fine.
Gracias to Boss, McVey, RightAngels! I’m gonna count my blessings and sign out.
And Saint Augustine! Four is my number, and there’s no forgetting a true player.
But also…
And plus also…. I like threes:
Okay. Now I swear I’m done.