Tag Archives: Nigger

Floyd, Paul Mooney, and THE “N-Word”

I am absolutely certain that you recognize that although Floyd and I are from the same generation, we are distinctly different individuals with thoughts, ideas, and principles that clash with the slightest provocation. Quite possibly the single-greatest verbal demarcation line between Floyd and me revolves around our use of the English language, particularly the use of what I, and most respectful individuals, commonly refer to as the ‘N-word’ and Floyd’s determination to use the word Nigga. A term that Floyd illogically maintains is markedly different than the use of the word “Nigger”.

Now that I think about it, rare is the occasion that I have been in Floyd’s presence that he has not used the ‘N-word’. Floyd seemed to emanate from the Paul Mooney school of thought in that he says Nigga a hundred times each morning because it makes his teeth white.

Most offensive of Floyd’s habitual use of the ‘N-word’ is the reality that he knows very well that I cringe each and every time he uses it; I must admit that my embarrassment is exponentially increased when he uses it in a setting with what we term mixed company. Unfortunately for me, I think that a significant aspect of Floyd’s refusal to let what is actually the nitroglycerine of the English language was his sadistic desire to see my reaction to its appearance, regardless of the setting.

Now I would be remiss if I did not honestly relate that I have been known to use vulgar language from time-to-time, however, I have consciously attempted to rid myself of the burdensome, historically-loaded, ‘N-Word’.

Considering such an initiative I am quite certain that you are going to wonder why I would elect to take Floyd to The Improv, a staple of Houston’s comedy club circuit, to hear the aforementioned Paul Mooney as a birthday present. I had come to learn that great comedians from Richard Pryor, Eddie Murphy, Martin Lawrence, Paul Mooney, Bill Cosby, etc. were an arena that Floyd and I were kindred souls. It was one arena that I shed, without any sense of embarrassment or contradiction, my abhorrence of the word Nigga as Black comedians used it frequently and within every imaginable context.

So on Saturday Evening, I picked Floyd up from his place and made my way toward I-10 West (The Katy Freeway).

From the moment Floyd stepped out of his front door, it was obvious that this was a special night for him, not only was it hisLavendar Suit birthday, but also he was about to see Paul Mooney, his “favorite comedian this side of Richard Pryor” perform live for the first time. And trust me when I tell you that Floyd was adorned with his finest threads, he was truly open-casket sharp with what seemed like an 18-piece Lavender suit. I thought it was a bit much, but hey, it was Floyd’s day and as the saying goes, ‘If you like it, I love it.”

Floyd talked incessantly during the entire drive regarding not only Paul Mooney, but also his best friend, the unparalleled Richard Pryor. It seemed as if Floyd was a walking Wikipedia of facts regarding the comedic duo; which spurred a question from me.

“If you are so into Richard Pryor and Paul Mooney, how come you have never gone to see them live.”

“Ain’t never had the opportunity. Meaning whenever they were performing close to where I was at, I didn’t have no money. Hell, I wouldn’t be going tonight if you weren’t paying.”

Floyd then sheepishly asked,

“You are paying, right? Don’t get me down here this close to seeing my main man and then I can’t get in the building. I promise you I will act a certifiable fool if you do.”

I just laughed and related to Floyd that his acting a fool wouldn’t really matter to me because I would be inside listening to Paul Mooney.

Floyd responded as I knew he would,

“Just like a Nigga”

For some reason I didn’t cringe at his use of the “N-word”, maybe because I understood that it held no negative connotations in this context. We were two friends simply kicking it on our way to see our boy.

We arrived at The Improv, got our tickets and enjoyed the show. Having seen Mooney several times before, I must relate that he was in rare fashion as he traversed across topics such as Whoopi Goldberg, Oprah Winfrey, O.J. Simpson, Ben Carson, and Niggas.

Two particularly memorable moments occurred during the night.

The first was when a white couple rose from their seats and walked up the stairs to exit the venue, witnessing this, Mooney stated,

“I still got my magic. They must have thought that they were coming to see Andy Rooney, not Paul Mooney.”

The overwhelmingly Black audience burst into uproarious laughter.

The second moment was a particularly personal one that nearly led to me wetting my pants. It was when Paul Mooney looked in our direction and spotted Floyd. At that moment, Mooney displayed the quick-wittedness that makes him such a great comedian. He stated,

“Awww shit, look at this Nigga over here. What motherfucking color do you have on Nigga? Nigga, please stand up so that we all can get a good laugh.”

To my amazement, Floyd rose from his seat and did a slow 360 degree turn.

“Now I know that we are in Houston, Texas, but that Nigga right there has got to be straight out of somewhere in Mississippi.”

Floyd shouted back at Paul Mooney,

“You Goddamned right!  Greenwood, Mississippi, in the house.”

Of course Mooney would not let Floyd have the last word and told Floyd to,

“Sit your loud country ass down. I bet you that Nigga got slave-catchers still after his ass. Out here dressed in a 54-piece Lavender suit around civilized people. Lavender, Nigga? Really, Nigga?”

I must tell you that there were tears running down people’s faces by the time Paul Mooney ended his roasting of Floyd. Above and beyond everything else, this moment of attention made Floyd’s night, it was a memory that he would never relinquish, even if he were the butt of Mooney’s jokes. And as you well know, it was better that it was him and not me.

Although we wished that Mooney could have stayed on stage for several nights, the truth of the matter was that he had already given us nearly three-hours of cutting-edge comedy for which we were all eternally grateful. Mooney even added a final touch of class to his performance by meeting and greeting every person who desired to purchase a DVD he had for sale.

I have found that at opportune moments such as this one, Floyd tended to shy away from opportunity. As expected, he stood up and turned for the exit. I had to halt his progress and walk him over to where Mooney was now standing selling his DVD’s and taking photos with his fans. As we approached Mooney, he burst into laughter at Floyd and jubilantly yelled,

“My Mississippi cousin!!!!!! What do you have on? Who in the hell let you come out of the house like that? Just kidding brother, you know that I had to give it to you.”

To my amazement, Floyd fell silent as a church mouse. I explained to Mr. Mooney that it was Floyd’s birthday and this was his first time ever seeing him perform. And that Floyd was the world’s biggest Richard Pryor and Paul Mooney fan.

Mooney, the classy gentleman that he is, responded,

“Well alright!!!! Now I know a Nigga that like two shit-talking pryorNiggas like me and Richard can speak. He ain’t mute is he?”

“Fuck nah, I ain’t no motherfucking mute. I got plenty to say, Nigga.”

Mooney laughed enthusiastically and told Floyd if he keeps talking like that he was going to have to take him on the road with him. Ultimately, Mooney took a gang of photos with Floyd, he even put Floyd’s Lavender suit coat on in a few of the photos as well as giving Floyd a DVD and the hat he had worn during his comedy routine, which he autographed for the overwhelmed Floyd.

The night was truly a special one, yet it was not over. I had planned on taking Floyd to a late dinner at FOGO DE CHÃO.

I have always believed that it is much better to give than to receive, this night solidified that belief. Floyd could not stop talking about either The Improv or Paul Mooney. My plan to ensure that he had a grand birthday was turning into an absolute success. Before long, we were turning off of Westheimer and into the parking lot of FOGO DE CHÃO.

After being seated, it took Floyd a while to understand how things worked inside of this venue. He had a difficult time comprehending that they would bring rolls of meat, any type of meat he desired, and cut it tableside for him.

Once Floyd got a hang of the way things worked, he behaved as if he were an old-pro at this. Apparently Floyd became so comfortable with his environs that he had an opportunity to return to his favored past time; aggravating yours truly.

“Now you cannot tell me that you didn’t enjoy Paul Mooney, even with him using the term Nigga so much. I am telling you that with all of the problems that our people have, we are spending way too much time focused upon that one word. It is kind of ridiculous when you really think about it. There are so many other things to worry about like: drug abuse, murder, poverty, teenage pregnancy, education, domestic violence, and the list can go on and on.”

I knew that I must immediately respond to Floyd’s opening statement.

“But Floyd can’t you see how so many of those other things flow from how we term and therefore envision ourselves?”

“Nigga please. Using as you and your people like to term it, the ‘N-Word’ ain’t got a damn thing to do with no domestic violence, high school dropouts, and poverty.”

I protested his charge that all of those things were most certainly linked together.

“Floyd, you do remember the piece that I wrote about this matter in African-American News & Issues, don’t you.”

Floyd admitted that he remembered the piece that follows,

MY NIGGA:

THE POWER OF WORDS ON THE AFRICAN-AMERICAN MIND

I don’t wanna be another nigga,
Waitin’ with my hands out,
Broke in the hood, they give a damn ’bout
Braggin’ to my homie bout the hoes I fucked
Drinkin’ bottles after bottles, plus I smoke too much.
I never had a job that would pay me well,
I took what I could cause they gave me hell…
 I barely go to church but I say I will,
I bow my head right before I eat my meal
The world’s fucked up and they claimin’ I’m to blame
It’s a damn shame cause
I don’t wanna be another nigga,

Big K.R.I.T.

One of my core beliefs is that “the power of life and death is in the tongue.” Put simply, watch what you say as those words are living projectiles that not only impact the world around me, but also go a great measure towards determining my future path. My parents and mentors repeatedly told me to watch my word choice, particularly when it came to cursing, because, ‘a little bit of bad will tear down a whole lot of good.’

We all realize that America holds its African-American citizenry to a different standard. Most unfair is the reality that the antics, of one African-American have the ability to malign the entire race. Despite their best attempts to deny it, African-Americans are inextricably linked together. One’s public persona, from dress to speech, reflects not only that individual, rather it is extended to cover one’s family and race; especially if that image carries any negativity. When African-American elders are commenting upon the pride they exhibited during earlier moments, they are recalling their posture, walk, diction, and physical appearance. One abhorred being caught ‘showing one’s color’, meaning damaging the African-American image, regardless of the extenuating circumstances.

The aforementioned realities are one of many reasons why YG’s hit single, “My Nigga”, is so disturbing; particularly its impact upon the image and psyche of African-American males. Although I find it particularly difficult to believe that there is anyone on the planet who has not heard this recording by now, in the event that there is such an individual, here are a sampling of the chorus.

My nigga, my nigga
My nigga, my nigga (My motherfuckin niggas!)
My nigga, my nigga (My nigga, my nigga)
My nigga, my nigga (My motherfuckin niggas!)
My nigga, my nigga (My motherfuckin niggas!)
My nigga, my nigga (My nigga, my nigga)
My nigga, my nigga (My motherfuckin niggas!)
My nigga, my nigga (My motherfuckin niggas!)
My nigga, my nigga (My nigga, my nigga)
My nigga, my nigga?

The word ‘nigga’ is repeated a shocking thirty-one times during one chorus. Black America’s soul should be troubled by not only the verbal flurry, but also the fact that it has entered the impressionable minds of droves of African-American youth.

As someone who has been addicted to rap music from the first time that I heard Grand Master Flash and the Furious Five’s ‘The Message‘, I thought that it may be time to address YG’s recording, not with a denunciation of it, that is not only easily accomplished, but also predictable, rather I have decided to offer an artistic alternative to a listening audience that desperately seeks close association with the “N-Word”. Unfortunately, many of these individuals believe that YG’s record, and similar recordings, epitomize what rap music is. So, please consider this a desperate attempt to fight the blaze of ignorance that YG, Rich Homie Quan, and Jeezy began and Lil Wayne, Nicki Minaj, and Meek Mill fanned with their remix, with an alternative vision. Please click on the following links for an alternative understanding of the N-Wordnigga, and nigger from several generations of African-Americans.

Maybe the aforementioned rappers will trip upon this posting and learn something regarding the power of language and come to understand that their financial wealth is insufficient to hide their intellectual and moral poverty. I am certain that time will impress upon them that no amount of cash is capable of masking such poverty. One of their own, Jay-Z, a self-proclaimed rap God, once issued an admonishment that is particularly applicable here when he related, “you can pay for school, but you can’t buy class.” A lesson that I hope the entire hip-hop community learns before the power of their words leads to more incarceration, death, and destruction of their own.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race and Culture 2015.

 

“I refuse to believe that you cannot understand how the use of that word affects how our people, especially young children, male as well as female, see themselves. It frames their entire existence.”

“No! What frames their entire existence is the home they were raised in, the school that they go to, the church that they attend. That’s where I learned who I was.”

“And who are you?”

“A strong Black man who ain’t about to take no shit off of no white man or Nigga. That’s who Floyd is. Period. Point blank.”

“But what about for our children who were not raised in a loving home? Who attend an under-funded inner-city school? Who have never attended church or had a suitable male role model? What about them? Hunh?”

“Well they had better hope that God is still in the business of taking care of fools and babies. Because they sound like they are in for a rough life. However, that has absolutely nothing to do with the word Nigga. Think about it this way. Let’s say that I, Paul Mooney, and every other Nigga that you know stopped using the ‘N-Word’. It wouldn’t make a bit of a difference. We would still be as poor, uneducated, and jailed as before.

Man, I tell you, the more education some people get, the dumber they seem to get.”

I am certain that Floyd saw my eyes tighten, a sign that I was about to tear into his ignorant ass. However, before I could launch my salvo, Floyd cleared up his comment.

“Now don’t get all mad about what I said, hey, don’t take it personal. I wasn’t even talking about you, at least not directly. What I mean is this. Did you see in the paper where the NAACP had went out and bought a casket, opened it up, wrote the word Nigger on a single white piece of paper, placed it inside of the casket, closed it up and then had a funeral for the ‘N-Word’, burial and all. Now what kind of sense does that make? That’s what I am trying to say. Some people, regardless of their education are just plain stupid.”

“Now I do understand what you are saying Floyd. However, they are well meaning in trying to point us in a new direction where we do not demean each other and stop teaching our children to do such; for many of them, it is their initial lesson. When was the last time that you listened to a group of African-Americans talking and you didn’t hear the ‘N-Word’? And don’t you dare try and tell me that it is a term of endearment.”

Floyd looked across the table as if he were exasperated with this entire conversation and related the following,

“Well that is exactly what it is, at least when I use it. Now tell me honestly, do you think that I am being disrespectful toward you when I use the term? Honestly?”

“Nah, I don’t think that at all.”

“Yet, you still believe that this one little word, Nigga, holds the power to liberate our people? That’s foolishness. What will liberate us is collectivist economics, voting, and valuing education. If we mastered all of those things, then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. But because the problem is so damn big, you and the rest of the Negropeans choose to pick on your own. Nah, quit being a coward and address the source of our misery and suffering. Go and talk to the white man and leave us little people alone.”

All I could think was that Floyd was correct in his logic, something that was in and of itself a bit startling, yet, I knew that I would never be comfortable with the use of the word Nigga in any context; or at least in public around mixed company.

“And another damn thing. Maybe, y’all should stop using it behind clothes doors if you want everyone else to pledge to abandon it.”

“Haha, I sense yet another victory for Floyd. On my birthday nonetheless.” 

I just stared at Floyd as he bathed in one of his most lopsided victories.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

Excerpt from the book ‘Foolish Floyd’: The Life and Times of an African-American Contrarian. Available at Amazon.com

Lucious and Cookie Address the N-Word: How Empire Could Break New Ground in Black Television by using the N-Word

In the early 90s there was a moderately successful rapper by the name of MC Breed who made a significant splash in the hip-hop world with the song, Ain’t No Future in yo’ Frontin. Put simply, MC Breed was advising the world that there was no future in promoting falsity in life. In ‘hood’ vernacular, ‘be true to the game.’

Now I am certain that you are wondering why I am even mentioning MC Breed, Lord know that I did not wake up intending to mention this relatively minor rap icon. However, the impetus to me resurrecting MC Breed from Empire 2the dead flows from a slight dust up that Terrence Howard, the star of the incredibly successful show Empire, has caused with his desire to bring more authenticity to a show that maligns and assassinates the African-American persona at every turn. Mention any stereotype that has been associated with Black America since their arrival on the North American continent and I challenge you to not find it in this hit show.

Empire has it all: drug dealing, drug abuse, homosexuality, psychological problems, infidelity, inter-racial relationship, lying, cheating, conniving, murder, hyper-sexuality, lust, and stealing. And the truth of the matter is that the Black community absolutely, irrefutably loves it; they Empireseemingly can not get enough of it. Making matters worse is the fact that a ‘who’s who’ of Black Hollywood has lined up for an opportunity to make an appearance on the show: Mary J. Blige, Naomi Campbell, and Oprah Winfrey; to name a few.

So having settled in on the fact that this will be an extremely unorthodox day for me, as noted above, I never thought that I would mention MC Breed in today’s blog post; I also never imagined that I would side with brother Terrence Howard on this matter. After a little reflection, I now believe that hell yeah he should be able to use the N-Word in the Empire 3show to bring more authenticity to the show. Now I am certain that many of you are offended that I would side with Terrence Howard on this matter, however, I think that the best art is a seamless reflection of life and there ‘Ain’t No Future in Yo Frontin.’ Although it is difficult for many to admit this in public, Black folk routinely use the N-Word in their daily conversation.

Although many African-Americans abandon its usage while in the public arena as a sign of decorum. I wish that such individuals would abandon the façade and publicly admit that they love watching reality TV, using the N-Word, and could care less about what others, particularly ‘conscious Black people’ think about them. It is their life and they should damn well be allowed to live it in as niggardly a manner as they please. The truth is that for many within my community, behaving as a nigger is loads of fun and absolves them of any responsibility.

However, not everyone involved with Empire agrees with Terrence Howard’s desire to integrate the N-Word into the show. Now I have read, and laughed at, Taraji P. Henson’s statement regarding this matter, a morally feeble position that basically boils down to Empire 4her fear that the use of this word may offend some people and therefore compromise the ratings that the show is currently pulling in. She is obviously not concerned with the use of the N-Word, a principled position that most could have at least respected, rather she is unwilling to risk the shows success by ‘pushing the envelope.’

I think that Taraji P. Henson, whom I think is a brilliant actress, is looking at this wrong. If Lee Daniels would allow Terrence Howard and other characters as well to use the N-Word, it would not only make Empire more authenticate, but also break ground by making the show the first truly interactive Black show ever produced.

It would be groundbreaking in that it would include the favored pet name of so many of its viewers. I can just see droves of Negroes rushing to view the show waiting for one of the characters to call them by their favored pet name, nigger. I am certain that they prefer such a moniker because only a nigger would sit glued to a television set to view the denigration of themselves, their people, and all of those that came before them for a global audience. On second thought I may be wrong regarding the pet name, maybe it is not Nigger, I think that stupid ass nigger is more appropriate.

James Thomas Jones III, Ph.D.

#ManhoodRaceCulture

© Manhood, Race and Culture, 2015.

A Thin, Yet Disappearing, Line: The Increasing Role of Fans in the Lives of Athletes

As if I needed another reason to hate the University of Michigan fan base. As a Buckeye, I must admit to being delighted by the death spiral that the hated “team up north” has experienced this season; a glee that has only lessened with the reality that their epic struggles would have a negative impact upon my alma maters, THE Ohio State University, BCS ranking via strength of schedule evaluation. Led by the obviously inept Brady Hoke, the hated Wolverines have seen their on-field struggles increase each year he has led their program.

However, just when the University of Michigan football fortunes appeared to be at rock bottom, comes a revelation from starting quarterback Devin Gardner concerning the voluminous amount of hate mail he has received from that school’s fan base. Gardner relates that he has received no less than 1,000 negative comments via Instagram and Twitter from Wolverine fans.

Just as disconcerting has been the decision of many Wolverine fans to call the young man a nigger. Gardner, who apparently refuses to use the racial pejorative, relates “I’ve been called the N-word so many times this year. One guy told me I was the N-word, and said I know N-words can’t play quarterback.” Although, the alluded to vitriolic racial hatred carries with it unspoken biases and prejudices from yesteryear that questioned the mental capabilities of African-American to handle the cerebral aspects of playing the pivotal quarterback position this posting is less about the shameful prevalence of racism in today’s sports world and aimed more toward an increasingly prevalent danger in today’s sports world; the danger I allude to is the tendency of some fans to believe that they have a role in sports contests beyond cheering and jeering.

As a Buckeye, I would love to take unbridled glee at Michigan’s woes. However, as an African-American male I simply cannot condone the hurling of the “N-word” at Devin Gardner due to perceived athletic inadequacies, nor can I deny the fact that such ilk finds not only a home, but also a community of like-minded individuals in any fan base; fans who attempt to stretch their role beyond being merely fans, they seek to interact with the athletes and impact the outcomes of games. Although I am not clairvoyant, I fear that if left unchecked such aspirations will result in disaster for some unsuspecting athlete in one way or another.

The alluded to individuals have done their absolute best to become a deciding factor in athletic contests regardless if we are speaking about pee wee football, middle or high school athletics, collegiate contests, and/or professional games. Such aspirations should be downright scary for today’s modern-day gladiators. How much longer will it be before some deranged fan harms a player who has not lived up to their lofty expectations?

While in Graduate School, I was honored to secure employment in my alma mater’s Student Athlete Support Services Office. One of the more frightening moments of my tenure were any days after defeating a rival because you simply had no idea what you would receive via the U.S. Post Office. Then it was “snail mail” today it is social media. One particular incident remains in mind, days after defeating a rival Big Ten opponent, one of our All-American players who delivered a hit on the other team’s quarterback that led those of us on the sideline to believe that he had killed him, received a package at the office. Within the parcel was a letter from a fan of the previous week’s opponent that related, in the most offensively racial language possible, not only his displeasure at this young man’s athletic performance that included his hitting ‘a white man’ with such force, but also included a blatant threat to murder the young man when he least expected it. Although we desired to laugh the incident off, included in the parcel were additional information that included a printout of this young man’s academic schedule, home address, and other pertinent personal information involving the young mans loved ones. To say that the parcel unsettled us all would be a drastic understatement. However, we were absolutely powerless in regards to either soothing this young man’s concerns or protecting him in any way. The alluded to threats appeared to be the cost of fame.

Unfortunately, with the general public’s increasing access to athletes’ lives, the line between athlete and fan has become negligible. Consequently, the racial harassment that Mr. Gardner is experiencing has become one of the unfair costs of being a renowned athlete as rabid fans have taken to social media to track down and interact with those that they cheer for on a weekly basis. One has to wonder, how long it will be before a fan totally crosses that line in a desperate attempt to increase his team’s chances of success and attempts to harm a rival athlete. I hope that I am wrong; however, I believe that such an incident will occur sooner, rather than later.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

#ManhoodRaceCulture

The Black CNN: Breaking News from the frontline

Public Enemy’s Chuck D once remarked that Hip-Hop culture is Black America’s CNN. Although many considered this keen observation little more than a flippant comment by a rapper seeking attention and increased record sales, when viewed through an appropriate prism, Chuck D’s observation is quite profound. When Chuck D made this statement during what we now term the Golden Age of Hip-Hop, Black America, particularly its youth, was being led through phenomenal changes by a relatively knew youth culture; today it is called Hip-Hop. Above and beyond anything else, Hip-Hop Culture, particularly Rap Music, allowed for these young African-American men and women to define who they were and thereby forced the world to deal with them and their vision of how the world should be.

Larger society was predictably against this change that they did not generate and could neither understand nor control. The politicized youth of the day apparently believed that they had something to say and created a vehicle from which it would be heard. They were pointing their race, and by extension the entire world, in a new direction. It was against the backdrop of voluminous criticism against rap music, the musical arm of Hip-Hop culture, that Chuck D posited that the musical genre was Black America’s CNN.

Chuck D., Public Enemy’s lead emcee, explained that if you wanted to know what was going on in South Central, Los Angeles, all you needed to do was listen to N.W.A. If you wanted to know what was occurring in Houston, Texas, one only needed to listen to the Geto Boys, or if the urban environs of New York piqued your interest, Rakim and Brand Nubian were more than capable of sharing contemporary occurrences; this list goes on and on. The emcee is analogous to a news reporter issuing dispatches regarding African-Americans and a fortune teller accurately depicting, or quite possibly shaping, the future.

During the Golden Age of Hip-Hop, Rap Music, despite its exponentially increasing, seemingly inherent, lyrical and visual contradictions, was painting a picture, one that was not always beautiful nor in focus, for the world to see. However, one could never deny that it was simultaneously bold and politicized. Although there was much to criticize about that generation of emcees’ and those adherents that followed their lead with a nearly cult-like obsession; there was little doubt that they were proud and determined youth supported by an unending political consciousness and esteem level that facilitated their ascension to the vanguard position of American, and global, popular culture.

‘Oh, to long for the days of yesterday.’ Little did we know that a mere twenty-years after Public Enemy advised African-Americans to Fight The Power! and the Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan detailed to the Black nation their duties as a righteous people and their duty to teach to others what they do not know, that Hip-Hop Culture would not only transform into the most powerful cultural force the world has ever known, but also even greater ability to offer vivid, high definition, portraits. Portraits that depict the contemporary state of African-Americans. It is not the clarity of the picture that is causing unprecedented consternation, it is the grotesque and disfigured portrait of Black youth that frightens previous generations of African-Americans .

Considering that Chuck D’s construct that Hip-Hop Culture is Black America’s CNN has stood the test of time, let’s take a quick look at one of the most recent news dispatches flowing from the front line of Hip-Hop culture offered by Rich Homie Quan. This report is particularly meaningful for what it conveys regarding the terms by which young African-Americans are defining themselves. One must remember that an individual’s personal reflection reveals so much about how they view themselves, others, and the world around them. For instance, emcees from New York during the Golden Age of Hip-Hop, particularly those who were members of the 5% Nation of Gods and Earths, referred to themselves as God’s. Although we can contest the basis for such a designation, one is hard pressed to charge such individuals with anything less than an overabundance of self-esteem and love for their people.

Quite possibly the most succinct articulation of contemporary emcee’s and their cult-like followers who allow contemporary lyrics to disproportionately influence their thoughts, dreams, and goals in much the same way as my generation did, is Rich Homie Quan’s ode to ‘bromance’ — meaning an unusual romance between at least two men —My Nigga; an articulation of pervasive ignorance that became even more disturbing when it was revisited with a remixed version involving the female emcee Nicki Minaj.

Although many wish to excuse away such recordings as being merely for entertainment purposes, such individuals are in error. Human beings are social beings, meaning that they have learned everything that they know. It is the culmination of these external stimuli that provides human’s with an understanding of their environment. It is not strange, it is actually predictable that individuals from my generation who had Black Nationalist messages drilled in their heads by rap emcees’ often adopted some variant of Black Nationalist politics. Considering such, it is likewise reasonable that African-American youth after hearing recordings like Rich Homie Quan’s My Nigga, over an extended period of time will begin to integrate its tenets into their lives and thereby become for lack of a better term, Niggers.

Unfortunately, it appears that the current state of Hip-Hop culture, if we are to believe the Black CNN, has turned into a manufacturing plant for the production of socially unacceptable, morally deficient, low self-esteem having, materialistic, ends-justify-the-means avaricious Capitalists, hyper-sexual, drug abusing, illiterate, and inarticulate beings. If that is too difficult to remember, just call them Niggers, that is what everyone, including themselves, calls them.