Mindless, violent hip-hop culture isn't 'keepin' it real,' it's destroying our kids

Statement: "Mindless, violent hip-hop culture isn't 'keepin' it real,' it's destroying our kids"

Response: Hip Hop is a symptom not the disease.

Boy, your 'wordity' (as my friend First_Salute refers to it) has even surpassed mine. (But it was well worth the read .... :)

While I agree with you that (what was once called) capitalism is continuously changing -- as with so many other things, unless it faithfully adheres to that core of underpinnings which originally defined its existence -- in this case, (1) private ownership of both the source of and the profits from the economic system, (2) private choices taking precedence over state control, and (3) laissez faire free market behavior as regards cost, production and distribution of product -- it loses its identity, and its intrinsic value.

In America 2003, all three arms have been severed.

As for your comment about the cold reality of being brought up in a 'labor home' jaundicing your view of the work/reward philosophy, I understand (and agree with) your implication.

The general public had no clue the freebies [a la the New Deal] they were accepting were the equivalent of ingesting a slow working poison.

I’ll drink to that! Not the poison, but the artful analogy. And the sad thing is, the poison has been at work for so long in our systems that most of us actually don’t even realize that it is there. Barring a miracle (and they do happen), it's eventually going to prove to be something akin to a silent heart attack that has been brewing for many years, and finally takes its deadly toll.

I was talking Pennsylvania tax reform (as proposed by our un-venerable Governor Ed Rendell) with a new acquaintance at a graduation party last night. I am vehemently in favor of using 100% consumption taxes (mostly in the form of sales taxes) to run both the state and the nation. He is in favor of using 100% production taxes (mostly in the form of income taxes). When I asked him which of the two forms of taxation seeks to redistribute wealth from the hard workers/accomplishers to the less ambitious, he thought about it a while and agreed that production taxes do. And when I asked him whether he thought our Founders' vision of this country included a vision of 'equality' that would require the government to rob from productive Peter to pay complacent Paul, he said that today's America cannot survive on the Founders' vision because 'too much has changed' in the last two-plus centuries.

There's the rub. Too much has changed! He was right. But the sad thing is that he isn't lamenting that fact. He isn't angry that we have allowed the Founders' vision to fall by the wayside, because other, more self- or agenda-serving politicians have convinced us that an entitlement-oriented society, based on pseudo equality, is more desirable than the preservation of individual liberty. As Robert Bork observed in Slouching Towards Gomorrah, 'With each new evidence of deterioration, we lament for a moment and then become accustomed to it.'

His comment represents just another example (as in the capitalism example above) of how the very defining foundations of this republic (just as the defining foundations of capitalism as a socio-economic practice) have been allowed to shift and bend to such a degree that we no longer even comprehend their intrinsic meaning or value. This country is now struggling along without an identity because its original one has been so (purposely, for the most part) clouded that we have little knowledge of our roots, or our original purpose (i.e., the preservation of individual liberty that would have insured the continued survival of, among other things, a capitalist economy).

Yes, for a state of "pure" capitalism I'd agree it's very bad, indeed; but, you said yourself our captialism isn't "pure." That means we're seeing (I am, anyway) a hybred -- of sorts -- of capitalism which must be in response to the strain that's been put upon the original concept ....

But it is in accepting the strain put on the original concept as an immutable fact of life that we are knuckling under to them! (Please insert Bork's quote here, yet again.) I'm afraid I have to part company with you here. As I see it, there is no other workable form of capitalism other than the pure variety. It is one of those all-or-nothing deals. Defile one of those three arms of the definition above, and you’ve signed its death warrant (granted, it may be a slow death, but die it will). Allow the government to have a say in just a little of your capitalist private ownership decisions, or the hard-earned rewards therefrom (either literally or figuratively), and you are allowing just a little cancer to creep into your social or economic liberties. State interference always metastasizes until its host becomes terminal.

Ideally, their children (you & I?) would've remembered the suffering & sacrifices their parents made, for them, & *that's* -- to me -- "what" the promise of America was all about.

Boy, Dan. You sometimes lace your normal (always healthy) cynicism with a soupcon of idealism. The operative two words in your sentence are ideally, and was. Nothing is 'ideal,' and 'was' (unfortunately, but accurately here) indicates past tense. How many of America's young people today either remember or revere the sacrifices made for them by their parents, grandparents, ancestors? Looking backwards, and building on the sacrifices and lessons of the past, must be a part of a strong, forward-looking society. We used to do that, but haven't, as a rule, since the pivotal sixties.

The foundation may very well be crumbling, joanie; but, that condition has very little -- if anything -- to do with "justice."

One more parting of the ways here, friend. I rarely disagree with your political philosophy, so it must be the Friday the 13th thing, I guess. I believe that what ails this country has everything to do with the erosion of justice. I challenge you to name an ailment from which this country suffers, and I guarantee you that it came into being as a result of some sort of perversion of justice (not necessarily in the judicial sense, but always in the quality of conforming to truth, fact or reason sense).

It's always a pleasure, whether we entirely agree or not ....

~ joanie

I guess I didn't do a very good job of trying to cheer you up.

>16> Whoa Nelly!
>4> DJ Dolly P. and Her Notoriously B.I.G. Ones

Omigosh! I didn't know my stomach muscles could hurt that much! ROTFLMAO!!!

bump

Boy, I really am a downer lately, huh?

Your capitalism isn't dead arguments didn't cheer me up -- not for lack of logic or effort -- but your (heretofore unrecognized) attempt to do so now has.

Thanks. :)

"I remember several years ago reading an article by a fellow who was a member of the Young Communist League at Brown University in which he referred to rap music as a ‘cultural weapon.’ I couldn’t have said it any better (probably the first and last time I’ve agreed with a communist). Only he was extolling that fact .... and I (and the two of you) lament it."

Joanie, yours, Landru's, mhking's, and Scholar's insight on this subject is nothing short of remarkable. I do see light at the end of the tunnel, and it comes from a most unexpected place.

A few weeks ago, the show American Idol finished up. The 2 final contestants were the antithesis of rap. One was a skinny white kid with a voice that rivaled any of the greats of the past. The ultimate winner was a portly young black gentleman, whose hometown cheering section was made up of his church's congregation. This young man, Ruben Studdard, has never been in trouble with the law, and has grown up singing gospel music. His voice, like runner-up Clay Aiken, is melodious, wonderful, and just plain good. Ruben won America's heart, and his genuine goodness came across loud and clear.

American Idol is judged by music industry professionals, but it also works by giving the American public a voice in the selection. What a wonderful job America did, finding excellent, talented musicians, not thugs wearing gold chains, mumbling curse words and hurling expletives toward women.

I think country music is twangy, silly, stupid clothes and ten-gallon hats but I don't think it should be banned. I also hear it a stop lights through Jethro's pick-up..."there's a tear in my beer"..yada, yada, yada. Now that's creepy.

Hey now, hey now. Country music is G-d, mom and apple pie, big trucks, hard times, harder liquor and good women. Where else could you find songs about "If I Said You Had a Beautiful Body Would You Hold It Against Me" or "Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goalposts of Life"...

I quit listening to modern rock about four years ago, switched to country and haven't looked back since. Used to hate country because I'd been raised around it and had some adolescent disdain for anything "common" or familiar...

I reckon I must've grown up somewhere along the line...

The Top 20 Country-Western Rap Artists

LMFAO!

The Bestiality Boys

[tears and spit in my keyboard now]

Ruben won America's heart, and his genuine goodness came across loud and clear.

Hopefully this is a sign that decency and goodness will overcome the extolling of the ugly side of human nature.

bump just so I don't lose this list!

~eh??
I want you to meet an acquaitance of mine.
His name's Herb Kornfeld & he's a *B.I.G.* fan of "Rap" music.
He wrote an essay you may find mildly amusing; although, I've taken the liberty of censoring some of Herb's language out of deference to your gentle dispositions.
----------

-I AM A BAD A**-

By Herbert Kornfeld
Accounts Receivable Supervisor

YO, waaasssuuup, baby? H-Dog is back, and don't nobody f**k with this BAD A**. You wanna f**k me, mo**erf**ker?
You gonna wish you didn't. 'Cause I the Accounts Receivable supervisor of Midstate Office Supply, and I AM a cold-blooded bada** mo**erfu**er, and if you f**k with me I'll go stone cold crazy on your a**.

Like that mo**erfu**er Steve Englebreiter of Associated Publishing House. A**hole thought he could postdate his go**amn check on a bill that was overdue for nearly a month and a half. I caught it right before we was ready to deposit it. Don't tell me it was no mistake; c**ksu**er knew what he was doing all along. Know what I did? Sent the go**amn thing right back along with a note saying we be passing his account along to a collection agency in two weeks if his bitch a** didn't pay up.

Now, legally, we only supposed to notify our collection agency after 90 days, not a month and a half. But I didn't have to tell the fool that. Three days later co**su**er sends us a cashier's check via overnight mail for the full amount. Ain't nobody fu**s with my bada** self.

Or take that ol' b*tch Mildred Fladner who's always callin' up, bitchin' about her credit balance.

"Those staplers only cost $36.50 for the half-dozen, not $38.50. Your cashier rung it up wrong."

"Then how come you didn't notice it then, y'ol ho?"
She high and everybody know it, but she make such a big deal about knowing the company president and everything she got everybody runnin' scared. Except this BAD A**.

So I go downstairs to the register she bought the staplers at, reset the date, duplicate the cashier number and purchase number, and ring the go**amn shit up at $39.50. Then I call her back sayin' I found the original detail tape and check it out, it looks like you owe us a dollar additional, plus extra sales tax, your own receipt must have come out poor. A week later I get a payment for the full amount, with her apologies. I pocket the extra buck and change, spend it on a lotto ticket, and win five bucks. It's payback time for that b*tch.

Now don't be messin' me up with the Accounts Payable Supervisor. The Accounts Payable Supervisor, he ain't no bada**. Hell, he ain't even no man. His name is Myron or something, and he so old he can't even get it up no more. I gots a bitch in the cash room. Myron, everybody laugh at him. He supposed to be the one that got the money but everybody know I got it and it's not even my job.

If I ever see you within even six feet of the coffee machine I'll Bruce Lee on your sorry a**. Mister Coffee, he my man. 'Cause only I know the perfect proportion: two and three eighths scoops of Folgers to three and one quarter cups of water. Ain't no use trying to do it yourself 'cause you'll just fu** it up; only I can do it right. 'Cause I got Kung Fu Grip. You got a problem with that? I got a problem with your existence, mo**erfu**er. I was fu**ing your mother while you were still watching Fat Albert in yo' Underoos.

I don't answer to nobody. One day I be blastin' the phat beats, and the company president come up to me and say, "Herbert, the Muzak is too loud, please turn down the receiver." I say, "I need my tunes when I be preparing account statements." Then he say, "I don't care, turn it down, it's distracting." So you know what I do? After he leaves for the day I steal a shitload of mints from his desk. He gets the message, and he don't give me no trouble no more. I be fu**ing his wife on the sly, anyhow.

So don't fu** with this H-Dog Daddy Mack Mack Daddy Comin' Out Your A** Bada**, 'cause if you do I be comin' after you like pastrami on rye to whip your muthafukin' sorry a**. I mean it. Don't. Fu**. With. Me.
---------------

Afterthought: Obviously, Herb's been influenced more than he realizes; perhaps, even by design.

...it was bound to happen.