Sunday, October 21, 2012

Feeling the Burn


Hotep,
“Feeling the Burn” is a common term used in the confines of the penitentiary weight pile.  The burn represents the diligence of the muscle being used to complete a particular exercise.  The burn is also the body’s recognition of physical progression, the mental aspect being; your establishment of the will to endure higher degrees of muscle discomfort for the benefit of physical growth.  Na mean?
Now, allow me to switch gears and accelerate into the realm of mental calisthenics:
If a person plays with matches, eventually they’ll get burned.  The physical sting of a match burn may be just enough to compel this person to cease striking matches, but that’s not always the case.  Some may need a more extreme circumstance to acknowledge the damage a burning match can do.  Sometimes the burn has to go much deeper than a mere flesh wound.  Feel me?
A person may strike one match too many before he/she realizes the living room drapes have caught fire.  Then it’s the wall-to-wall carpeting and sectional couch that wears the flames.  This person may give his/her best effort to extinguish the flames, but quickly learns that their only option is to protect his/her fam and allow the fire to run its course.  Stay with me people.  I’m almost there.  Aight?
The trauma of losing everything you knew as “home” would be devastating enough.  The realization that you were responsible for this grave loss burns much deeper than any singed finger.  It’s an experience that reminds you of why you shouldn’t play with matches.  Word is bond!
You see, the reasoning behind this cautionary tale is I can deeply relate with anyone whose poor choice led to a traumatic event.  The internal burn can be devastating.  Womanizing is the match that torched everything I knew to be “home.”  It has charred my image to those believed to be my friends and until recently, seared my connection to society.
I’ve been burned and I’ve learned.  When I say:  “I’m done!” Believe me, I’m done.  Life on death row has been more than a scorching reminder of my poor choice to strike one match too many.  But, the sweet dream that lies within this living nightmare is an exemplification that good will endure the most horrific events.  Like the muscle enduring the burn; progress is inevitable, burning my loved ones, no longer is.  The burning match has been extinguished.  Ya heard?
Keep it 100,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Gestation of a Culture: I’m Missing You, Volume 3

I was born in 1979; the last of a dying breed.  As a kid growing up in the mid-late 80’s, Hip-Hop Rap was climbing the charts.  The music began to get very loud and throughout my neighborhood, speakers started to make a lot of noise.  In my bed at night I could hear the beats of Eric B and the rhyme of Rakim.  I could hear police sirens in the distance as KRS-ONE “that’s the sound of the police” came through the walls, either from my cousin’s bedroom, the row-house next door of the streets below.  This was New Jersey, Philly, New York, and the metropolitan north. 
The Hip Hop sounds of expression took me in as I developed premature thoughts of my surrounding society.  I wasn’t a menace; I was only what 7, 8, 9 maybe 10 years old?  LL Cool J’s “I’m bad” and the B-boys Kids on the block, everything around me, the Tasty Cakes, big tubs of sherbet ice cream (everyone grab a spoon).  All these things to me are what I remember about genuine Hip hop.
I was still too young to understand a lot of the slang and the lyrics in Rap, but I understood “F**k the Police” and the meaning of N.W.A.  I understood artist like Scarface, Ice Cube and Easy E, they didn’t just rhyme, and they were rapping about everyday life.  People were fighting to live and struggling to be heard.  Hip hop rap was the voice for regular people who needed to express the real deal. 
As I got older, the game out west took hip hop to another level.  I learned when you express yourself and speak out about injustice and oppression; your oppressor will put forth great effort to keep you silent.  The government or those in authority will even take action to prevent the masses from hearing you, but one the music gets out, you can’t stop people from listening.
Hip hop rap was no longer just music, but now it had become a revolution and with the 90’s, things evolved.  I got older and my years in the incubator were over.  I started listening to the old school songs over and over until I got a better understanding.  Songs like KRS ONE’s “Black Cop” or Rakim’s “Follow the Leader.”  Finally someone rapped about U-N-I-T-Y and it wasn’t a man.  Thanks Queen Latifah. 
Artist started finding out it was cool to challenge the status quo, customs and structure of things, like religion and so forth.  Nothing was exempt from the lyrical content.  Whether it was a “Death Certificate,” “Lethal injection,” or simply a ghetto bird, I understood rappers weren’t just making noise, but all this time they were protesting.  The lyrics had a meaning and the music became a movement.  That’s what I miss about Hip hop today.
Too much material and not enough substance.  There was once a purpose, a fighting cause for being a rapper.  Even in the mid to late 90’s rap was still argumentative.  Artist like Tupac, Richie Rich, Pastor Troy, Nas Biggie, and many more challenged listeners to use their minds and think four themselves.  It’s no wonder the movie Matrix came out in the 90’s.  Songs like: “Do G’s get to go to heaven,” Bone Thugs “Crossroads,” 2Pac “I wonder if heaven got a ghetto,” and “Blasphemy,” can’t forget Pastor Troy “vice versa.” Songs that asked for the listener to free their mind. 
Hip hop rap is a way to release the chains and limits and design your own outer limits.  A good artist will make you question the American way with its traditional values and beliefs, but more importantly hip hop reminded me that “Only God can judge me.”  Songs use to be more inspirational, not in a gospel way, but in the spirit of a warriors way.  And much respect given to the new school real hip hop you know who you are.  Because of where I am, I’m missing you.
Be Easy,
Dushame, a.k.a., J-Rock

Sunday, October 7, 2012

The Gestation of a Culture: Monumental Volume 2


The revolution has been televised in the form of hip-hop.  It has gone from the gritty streets of the Bronx to the halls of the White House, where a black man now sits as a president.  Imagine that.  I doubt Africa Bambata did or ever Kurtis Blow when he rapped, “If I ruled the world.” Yet what once seemed impossible has been achieved.  A black man is president of the United States, and not just any black man, but one who is truly of the generation that birthed hip-hop. 
Check the footage.  When political dirt was thrown at President Obama during his campaign he “brushed the dirt off his shoulder” – a gesture inspired by Jay-Z and showing the world his roots.  Dig, the first lady can do the “Dougie.” Look how far hip-hop has come.  Need I say more?
Despite its flaws and shortcomings, or perhaps in spite of them, hip-hop is the most prolific form of music ever.  No other music has accomplished more.  Just as the Negro spirituals and songs of the civil rights era motivated our ancestors to persevere in the struggle and strive for improvement, hip-hop is doing the same.  Though of humble beginnings, hip-hop has propelled our generation to heights no one would have ever imagined possible.  Yeah, “that black music” is lifting us back to glory.
Now though hip-hop was started by black people and is sometimes referred to as “black music,” it has crossed racial barriers and become universal, embraced by people of all nationalities and walks of life all around the world.  You need only look around you to see how enormous hip-hop has become.
Hip-hop has journeyed from Bronx River projects to corporate offices around the world.  Multibillion dollar companies like McDonalds and Coca-Cola have incorporated hip-hop music in their advertisements.  More than a few politicians have used rap or rappers in an effort to broaden their voter field.  Isn’t it amazing?  What was once considered just a fad has become the loudest voice in the world. 
Hip-hop is the sounding board of the world.  This is evident in its influence on society.  Issues – mundane and critical – can be realized through hip-hop music.  You want to know about the latest fashion?  Listen to hip-hop.  You want to know what happened of significance in Florida?  Chances are there is a rap song about it.  Trayvon Martin!!!  Google it.  Such is the significance of hip-hop in our social affairs.
Many people who would have been unsuccessful in life have found success through hip-hop, lifting themselves up from bad situations.  They have become pillars of society.  They provide for family and friends are advocates for their communities.  They are the true voice of the people. 
Let me sign off in the words of Pete Rock and Smif –n-Wesson…
Monumental
Rodney Taylor a.k.a. Bucktown
Copyright © 2012 by Rodney Taylor

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

The Gestation of a Culture


Hotep,

Hip-Hop is an awakening.  Since its origin, it has linked us to a glorious past.  From The Treacherous 3, to Rick Ross, hip-hop has been the speaker box of our struggle.  Xclan, Public Enemy and KRS-ONE gave us a reason to pump our fist with pride, but they never let us forget that the foundation for hip-hop is the dismantling of a nation once draped in royalty.  Word is bond!
The evolution of hip-hop has revitalized the legacy of our royalty.  This upcoming journey will guide you through our ancestral struggles and give you a look from the pinnacle of an evolved culture.
Mr. Blue, Bucktown and Dushame, a.k.a., “J-Rock,” are rolling down the windows and your MannofStat is pushing the pedal to the floor.  So brace yourself blogosphere; here comes the realness!  Put your face in the wind and let it do what it do.  Ya heard?
Keep it 100,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann
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The Blueprint of Hip-Hop, Volume 1
 In George G.M. James’ classic work, Stolen Legacy, he clearly establishes for people of African descent our undeniable link to the motherland.  This is a link, which in spite of the worst brutalization ever committed against a people that continues to this day – can never be broken.
People stand in awe of black people throughout the world.  Incredulous that despite discrimination, hatred, bigotry, rape and a concerted, worldwide white-supremacy genocidal campaign to demoralize and destroy dark-skinned peoples – we not only survive; we thrive.
There is no other people on earth who could have withstood this onslaught without becoming extinct.  It is a phenomenon that defies all reason until we begin to examine the link to a glorious past and our relation to the builders of the first civilization known to man.
That is our foundation, the roots of which will sprout an awakening, a new consciousness; a new beginning.  From this awakening must stem an understanding that war is being waged against black people.
With this new consciousness must spring the realization that from – Queen Hatshepsut – Nzinga - Shaka Zulu – Kunta Kinte – Booker T. Washington – W.E.B. Duboise – Marcus Garvey – Martin Delaney – Nat Turner – Gabriel Prosser – David Walker – Sojourner Truth – Harriet Tubman – Ida B. Wells – Paul Robeson – Malcolm – Martin – Medgar Evers – Fannie Lou Hamer and Nelson Mandela to you and I, it is the same struggle; it is universal.
Our new beginning won’t occur without recognition of our links.  The brothers and sisters chained in the holes of slave ships were from different nations, but here the same people engaged in the same fight.  And we are without a doubt, their descendants. 
I don’t like the fact that I’m on death row, but I draw strength from those who came before me. I am a better man for having met Leroy Elwood Mann.  His vision is timeless and his spirit is infectious.  It is an honor for me to struggle alongside him.  I will give every fiber of my being for those who will come after me and I thank God for the opportunity.  There is no me without we.
One,

Mr. Blue
Copyright © 2012 by Paul Brown