Archive for the 'Entertainment' Category

30
Oct
10

Sanford Breaks Down the Racist Traffic Court Injustice System

27
Oct
10

Drive-By Truckers – The Three Great Alabama Icons

Paul "Bear" Bryant

George Wallace

Ronnie Van Zant

05
Oct
10

The Gangsta Rap Lyric Translation/Clarification Game

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To amuse myself, often times I will attempt to translate gangster and misogynist rap music lyrics into academically precise and excessively clinical language. The goal is to clarify the rapper’s intended meaning for the (imaginary) uninitiated, non-urban listener. I also engage in this word substitution game when I overhear people on the street employing urban slang or street talk¹.

Gangsta rap lyrics are immeasurably amusing to translate due to their depth of meaning and emotionally-charged content (often detailing acts of extreme physical violence and barbarous sexual assault crimes committed against women). The purpose of the game is to juxtapose the explicit savagery of the gangsta rap lyric against a sterilized and verbose restatement of the lyric’s content reworded to nullify the inflammatory tone.

As a way of contextualizing this mental activity, I pretend that I am a foreign visitor who is semi-fluent in English (but slang-ignorant). In order to comprehend what I am hearing, I must substitute a large number of the words in order to clarify the content of the gangsta rap lyric. Other times, I imagine myself as a pedantic English professor who is mentally critiquing the rapper. As the professor, I make it my duty to red-line the grammatically offending lyrics since they are an affront to all for which I stand. The professor then silently instructs the rapping dullard on the proper way that he or she should verbally express their tales of criminal exploits and women-hatred.

Below is an example of how I employ the rap music lyric word substitution/clarification technique.
The lyric below is from the Eazy-E song Still Talkin’ and is on the deceased Mr. E’s 1988 debut album, Eazy-Duz-It (the complete lyrics to Still Talkin’ and many other fine Eazy-E songs can be found here).

Psychopathic, but the hoes are attracted

Because, when I’m on hard, my dicks at least a yard

First line translation/clarification:

Despite the fact that I have a personality disorder characterized by an abnormal lack of empathy combined with strongly amoral conduct but masked by an ability to appear outwardly normal, prostitutes with little or no monetary focus find me sexually appealing.

Second line translation/clarification:

The aforementioned women find me sexually appealing for the reason that when the two tubular structures that run the length of my penis, the corpora cavernosa, become engorged with venous blood (due to a complex interaction of psychological, neural, vascular and endocrine factors occurring before and during exposure to sexually-arousing stimuli), the welling, hardening and enlargement of my penis results in an erection that measures a full three feet (thirty-six inches) in length.

ΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦ

¹ For instance, when I am in a bodega buying my daily lottery ticket and I overhear an urban outdoorsman request that the cashier “gimme a loosey”, I know that the gentleman is directing the store clerk to reach behind the counter and retrieve a single cigarette from a broken pack to sell him at an inflated price. Although this is an illegal act, the clerk recognizes that market forces of supply and demand in an underground economy will ultimately determine the store’s financial survival (and more importantly – his/her job security). The store clerk’s tacit agreement with the gentleman and his/her willingness to complete this illegal transaction occurs notwithstanding the minimal threat of a criminal conviction (with its attendant fines and/or period of incarceration).

Related posts:

https://dillsnapcogitation.wordpress.com/2008/11/08/in-loving-memory-of-eric-eazy-e-wright/

https://dillsnapcogitation.wordpress.com/2008/07/16/my-mind-is-playing-tricks-on-me-geto-boys/

30
Sep
10

Rock ‘n’ Roll Ta-Tas and Naughty Bits

Ripe Melons and the Jimi Hendrix Experience

Blondie's Coked-Up Gash Flash


28
Sep
10

Happiness: We’re All In It Together

My favorite propaganda poster from Terry Gilliam’s exceptional film, Brazil (1985).

03
Sep
10

The Last Poets, the Black Panthers, and the FBI

Niggers always goin’ through bullshit change
But when it comes for real change,
Niggers are scared of revolution

~ Niggers are Scared of Revolution“, The Last Poets

The following is from this Guardian article:

After the Party: Music and the Black Panthers

One day last December, Umar Bin Hassan of the Last Poets attended a gathering in Chicago to commemorate local Black Panther Party leader Fred Hampton, who was shot dead by the police 40 years earlier. There were about 30 people, including the widows of Hampton and fellow Panther Eldridge Cleaver, and former members of radical groups such as Weatherman. “We laughed and drank wine and talked about what we all had been through,” Hassan says. “I’m glad I made it. It was good to see a lot of those people still living, you know?”

They were survivors of a turbulent period. In 1968, just two years after Oakland residents Huey Newton and Bobby Seale formed the Black Panthers, FBI director J Edgar Hoover called the party “the greatest threat to the internal security of the country” and set about spending millions of dollars to infiltrate, sabotage and divide it. By the mid 70s, it was in terminal decline, and Hampton was far from the only fatality.

The Panthers’ legacy has been fiercely debated ever since. Some people claim the leadership, especially Newton, were their own worst enemies: paranoid hotheads prone to violence and cronyism. Others regard them as heroes who gave young African-Americans power and pride in the face of endemic racism, only to be brought down by Hoover’s machinations. A new project, Tongues on Fire, aims to accentuate the positive, bringing together the party’s official artist and minister of culture, Emory Douglas, with musicians such as the Last Poets, the Roots and jazz saxophonist David Murray.

When Newton and Seale were preparing the first edition of the newspaper in 1966, they listened obsessively to “brother Bobby” Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited, especially Ballad of a Thin Man, which Newton read, rather fancifully, as a parable of racist oppression. At this point, black artists were still using code words such as “respect” and “pushing” when dealing with the subject of race. Even after blackness entered pop’s lexicon via James Brown’s Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud, Newton and Seale’s rhetoric, and Douglas’s artwork, only found their musical analogue with the arrival of the Last Poets.

Formed in Harlem in 1968, the Last Poets lost most of their founding members before they even recorded their debut album. The classic lineup on the Poets’ eponymous 1970 release consisted of Abiodun Oyewole, Jalal Mansur Nuriddin and Umar Bin Hassan. In his hometown of Akron, Ohio, Hassan had been an angry young man looking for direction when he saw the Panthers’ first televised action: their armed entrance into the California legislature in May 1967.

“Woah,” he remembers. “I was so excited to see some young black men do that. The Panthers were my first introduction to black militancy. About two months later I saw Huey Newton on the news, standing on the fenders of two cars and throwing down his fists at these white cops. I thought the revolution was going to begin and end in California. I ain’t never been in a gang, but if I was going to be in a gang I wanted to be in a gang that stood up and defended the black community from racist cops.”

Nobody had ever heard anything like the Last Poets. They combined the militant spirit of avant-garde jazz musicians such as Archie Shepp with the furious poetry of Amiri Baraka, who called for “poems that kill: assassin poems”. Their rage was aimed at both white America (“the Statue of Liberty is a prostitute”) and apathetic, unrevolutionary black people. Controversially, they called these people “niggers”.

“The Last Poets out-niggered everybody,” Hassan says with a throaty chuckle. “We had Wake Up Niggers, Niggers Are Scared of Revolution … Our thing was not to use that word as casually as the kids today. You got young kids who think it’s OK to be a nigger. Nah, it ain’t OK. We were trying to get rid of the nigger in our community and in ourselves. The difference between us and hip-hop is we had direction, we had a movement, we had people who kept our eyes on the prize. We weren’t just bullshitting and jiving.”

Despite zero airplay, the response to the album from those who heard it was “overwhelming” and the Panthers saw a fantastic recruitment opportunity in the Poets. “Everybody knew how much the people liked us and everybody wanted us to become a part of their thing,” says Hassan. “But we kept ourselves independent.” They did not need to be card-carrying members in order to be useful. “Music to [the Panthers] was something to get people’s attention so they could speak,” says David Murray, who was a teenager at the time. “Like a trumpet sounds and then there’s a speech.”

Very soon the party had a soundtrack, with such radical poets as the Watts Prophets, Nikki Giovanni and Gil Scott-Heron emerging almost simultaneously (although Scott-Heron was sceptical about “would-be revolutionaries” with “afros, handshakes and dashikis” in his song Brother). Sympathetic rock stars such as Santana and the Grateful Dead played fundraisers.

In 1970, the year the Last Poets began their album with the ominous phrase “time is running out”, it seemed to many US radicals, black and white alike, that revolution was imminent. But within a couple of years, the Black Panther Party was in disarray, largely thanks to the dirty tricks of the FBI. “Those who have the power always have the time and resources to get together,” Hassan says. “They took their blows for a minute but then they realised, ‘We gotta come back at this.’”

The agency fomented civil war between Newton and Cleaver, with bloody consequences. Douglas, who was regularly tailed by FBI agents, remembers seeing his artwork imitated on a forged pamphlet attacking another black organisation. “They tried to destroy and discredit the Black Panther Party by any means necessary,” he says. “We knew what was going on but you couldn’t put your finger on it.” The Watts Writers Workshop, the base of the Watts Prophets, was burned to the ground by a trusted employee who, it transpired, was an FBI plant. The Last Poets were constantly monitored, as Hassan discovered years later when he saw his FBI files. “We were on President Nixon’s list, the defence department list, the national security list. It kind of blew my mind.”

Not all the blame, however, can be laid at the government’s door. The Huey Newton who emerged from jail to retake the party leadership in late 1970 was a troubled, paranoid character who acquired a taste for cocaine and groupies and soon fell out with Cleaver. “Bobby Seale was the brains,” says David Murray. “Huey Newton was an action person. He would just go and do it. That might also be why he’s not alive [Newton was shot by a crack dealer in 1989].”

“We all thought we were moving towards bringing about something new, something good, for America – not just for black people, but for all people,” Hassan says. “But when you started seeing one brother go one way and another brother snitching, a lot of us went back on to the streets doing what we were doing before, selling drugs or hustling, because we were disappointed.” Hassan himself left the Last Poets in 1974 and became a cocaine addict, giving poetry readings in crackhouses. “Yeah man, there was a lot of disappointment.”

Asked about the Panthers’ balance sheet, Emory Douglas draws a long sigh. “I would say we did the best we could under the circumstances. You have to understand that never in the history of the country had any organisation stood up to the challenges in the way we did and at such a young age.” David Murray thinks the party has to be seen in context. “This was a time when California was changing the world. I was a hippie, I was a Black Panther, I was in the Nation of Islam. That was how you grew up during that time – you had to dabble in each one.”

27
Jul
10

Elvis Presley RRReal Fucking High on Drugs!!!




Johnny Peepers

----> is a socio-pathetic degenerate with a penchant for cheap booze, ruphy-laden broads, and dim sum soup.

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