In this installment I will try to predict some March Madness outcomes, while at the time assigning certain teams a song that best fits their season and chances of taking home the hardware. Warning: you might not want to follow any advice I give, because I’m pretty sure the last couple of years I’ve ended up around the 60th percentile. But hey, in 2005 I won my father’s office pool!
On Saturday, October 19th, in the midst of college football frenzy, ESPN and College Gameday took part in the public mockery of Native American culture. Was it all in good fun? Or was it just insensitive and racist? The featured video is below, and the Bonus Cut creators share their thoughts.
Often times I look at the environment in which I was raised and the environments in which I’ve taken part in throughout my life. I look for contributing factors related to behavior, I try to study examples of nature verses nurture and I assess correlations between overall behavior and normalcy of individuals within a certain institution. I do this to not only understand regional differences, but also to learn more about myself and what I am still yet to learn.
Israel Hernandez was an 18-year-old artist who wanted to “change the world somehow through art.” On Tuesday, August 6th, he was electroshocked by a taser after running from the cops for painting graffiti on an abandoned McDonalds. Half-a-dozen officers chased him down until he was tased in the chest. Later that morning he was pronounced dead.
Dear Readers,
I’m sick of it. Yet another rant about Florida; another rant about law enforcement; another rant about police brutality; another rant on how many claim all graffiti is “vandalism”; and another rant on some of the people we put in power.
Again, I’m sick of it.
I’m sick of the despairing nature of this whole story: a story that revolves around the sole fact that Hernandez was an 18-year-old boy who weighed in at 150 pounds standing 5’6’’, and yet between six officers they decided it would be ideal to use a taser to the chest to stop him. Furthermore, let us point to this: six officers decided to chase this kid down for a petty crime (HE SPRAY PAINTED AN “R” ON AN ABANDONED BUILDING) for blocks, until it came to the point where they used excessive force. After, the officers decided to “high-five” as he lay motionless on the ground.
I’m sick of the way the officers decided to carry this out. It would be one thing if Hernandez was running away for murder, burglary, rape or any of the other major felonies, but again, and this is important, the kid was painting an “R” on an abandoned McDonalds. The officers could have let it go, they could have given him a warning or they could have used lesser tactics to take down the kid when he was cornered. But no, they chased him down as if he just murdered Mayor Regalado. I’m just glad they didn’t use bullets.
I’m sick of the people who don’t get it. They continually question why this is such a big deal because Hernandez was a “criminal.” Listen folks, excessive force can’t be excused by blaming the victim. You need to look past that and analyze how the actions were committed.
I’m sick of the people who claim graffiti is merely vandalism. You know what? Fuck that. In terms of hip-hop, graffiti is a way of expression. Graffiti in a nutshell is a visual stimulant of hip-hop, just like breaking is an expression in the physical form. From Darryl McCray and his Cornbread tagging in Philadelphia to TAKI 183 in the streets of New York City, graffiti and tagging have supplied hip-hop with a visual form of expression and thought that goes beyond the meaning of a 16 bar lick. There are galleries around the world devoted to graffiti, and even the ancient Greeks and Romans established themselves in the art. So please, don’t tell me graffiti is merely vandalism if it’s used in a positive way through hip-hop.
With this story, I’m not only sick, but I’m saddened. However, we must take a positive view and spin it in a way where our society can benefit from such a tragedy.
If anything, the first thing we should be focusing on is more police training and education, especially regarding circumstances like this. What constitutes an officer to use force? Should you commit six officers to chase down a graffiti artist for tagging a building? Why is tasing someone in the chest NOT OKAY? With this we must also recognize the difference between good police work and bad police work. In most cases, good police work DOES NOT require force. Take Robert Saylor’s story, a truly sad example where the cops knew the situation and still decided to use force, which resulted in a death. Sometimes it’s always easier on both sides if you lower the stakes. For this to happen though, we need to express this concern regarding enforcement officials. We cannot simply wait for it to happen, as if one day the idea will spring into a commissioner’s head. If we do not voice our say as a community and people of this country, we will get nowhere, and events like Israel Hernandez and Robert Saylor will continue.
Furthermore, hip-hop heads and figures in the culture need to use this story as a continuing example of the forces that still oppress the people in this country. If graffiti artists are getting tasered and killed for exploring the realms of art and expressing themselves, then our freedom is being tested. Why stand and let these events unfold before our very eyes?
I have hope, and I will always have hope, and we cannot let our voices falter.
Remember this if anything:
“Never be a spectator of unfairness or stupidity. The grave will supply plenty of time for silence.” –Christopher Hitchens
In the 17 days since the beginning of the George Zimmerman trial, I have tried to keep in touch with everything that has been going on. Like millions of Americans, I’m invested in this case. From the very start of the Trayvon Martin story we’ve delved deep down into the rabbit hole of topics that range from race to national gun laws to Florida’s Stand Your Ground law. Out of all these topics—which are all important in their own right—I still can’t get over one simple thing: George Zimmerman, after being told not to follow someone he deemed “suspicious looking,” decided it was in his best interest to continue pursuing his target, which ultimately lead to a 17-year-old black male with Skittles and Arizona Tea dead on the grass with a bullet in his chest.
And yet, the more I think about this story, the more it isn’t surprising.
I’m sorry for such a pessimistic view on the nature, but if we look at some things—more specifically the slayings and unjust nature against young black youth and minorities in America—how are we at this point surprised by these events when our country is yet to progress? Need I mention Oscar Grant? Or what about Nicholas K. Pert’s riveting story about N.Y.P.D. behavior against black males in New York City? In a day and age where we are almost 50 years removed from Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech (August 28, 1963), it seems that our progression as a whole doesn’t even come close to what civil rights activists in the 60s had hoped for in a 50 year span.
So with that, this is why the George Zimmerman case and Trayvon Martin story are important. And although it’s far from being the only one worthy of discussion—it’s amazing how mainstream media will invest everything into a certain story without focusing on others as well—it’s the closest America as a whole will get to understanding the core issues of civil rights in the 24 hour news cycle.
Stakes is High
Maybe it’s because we’re in an age of technological advancement and online everything, or maybe it’s because news outlets realize the magnitude of this case, but everything in the George Zimmerman trial is being taped and broadcast. This itself is a beauty, because we as a nation don’t have to take a reporter’s word or script to pass judgment; we can literally sit at our television and watch this unfold. And maybe, just maybe, this will ease the aftermath.
See, the Casey Anthony case was stunning, and the Kermit Gosnell trial was frightening and just, but the George Zimmerman case is extremely important in that the verdict will extend far beyond the reaches of the courtroom. Whatever verdict is decided at the end of this trial, it is a guarantee that this won’t signify the end of the story. If taping the entire trial for people to follow and judge for themselves as it unfolds helps ease some, then this is needed. More importantly, getting this first-hand look at the trial gives us a sense of actually knowing the story from witnesses and accounts.
The trial itself, at least through the first 17 days, has been patchy on both sides. From the jury selection, to the opening statements, and to the witnesses, both the prosecutors and defense team have gone through each and every ring a case could possibly throw.
At the end of the jury selection, it was decided that six women would consist of the jury with four alternates (the jury only has six members because second-degree murder cases in Florida only call for six jurors). Five of those women are white, and one is Latina.
Now what does it matter if the six jurors are women and that five are white and one is Latina? Why should there be questions asked? Well, for one let’s look at this case: first, the Trayvon Martin shooting has and will always focus mainly on race, because the details behind the altercation make it so (George Zimmerman was a Latino and Trayvon Martin was a black teenager; Trayvon looked like a “punk” and was “suspicious”). Beyond this, the jury selection was chosen for the benefit of both the prosecutors and defense: the prosecutors agreed upon this jury because to them, women have that instinct that Trayvon was just a kid, and that this would stir feelings of “that could have been my son.” On the other hand, the defense team agreed upon this jury because they wanted to emphasize the fact that Trayvon was a black male wearing a hoodie, and that he looked “suspicious,” trying to evoke feelings in the jury that this kid could have been trouble if they were in the vicinity. From the very get-go this trial continued to play on stereotypes, no matter how big or small they were.
As the actual trial started to commence, it looked like the prosecutors were gaining the upper hand. The defense team began their opening statements with a distasteful “knock-knock” joke, and the opening statements made by assistant state attorney John Guy directly used George Zimmerman’s line he said on the phone that went like this:
“Fucking punks. Those assholes, they always get away.”
Guy later went on to say:
“Those were the words in that grown man’s mouth as he followed in the dark a 17-year-old boy who he didn’t know … Those were the words in that man’s chest when he got out of his car armed with a loaded semi-automatic pistol and two flashlights to follow on foot Trayvon Benjamin Martin, who was walking home from a 7-Eleven … Those were the words in that defendant’s head moments before he pressed that pistol into Trayvon Martin’s chest and pulled that trigger.”
After day one, it looked like justice would be swift and vigilant. It looked, at least during that very moment, that George Zimmerman was doomed for what he rightfully deserved: second-degree murder.
And yet, as the trial wore on, things started to get shaky. The prosecuting team’s witnesses thus far have failed to fully bring the information they were hoping for that would pin George Zimmerman. This is especially true with Rachel Jeantel, the 19-year-old friend of Trayvon Martin who was talking to him that night. Not only was it hard to understand her on the stand, she was also caught with providing misleading information and wrapping herself up in contradictions. Comparatively, other witnesses have only bolstered Zimmerman’s case for self-defense, claiming that Martin was throwing punches and Zimmerman was pinned.
So as we stand, 17 days later and still in the midst of this trial, here’s what’s important:
No matter what the verdict of this case is, remember: George Zimmerman was the one who decided to follow Trayvon Martin, even after being told not to by authorities. We still don’t know who started the initial fight, but this fact is important to retain.
Despite the prosecuting team’s disappointing run of witnesses thus far, remember Zimmerman’s quote from opening statements: “fucking punks. Those assholes, they always get away.”
At this point, it looks like a lot of the evidence is pointing towards a worthy case of self-defense by Zimmerman. Even more disheartening is that the chances of him being convicted of second-degree murder are slim. If anything, he will get charged for manslaughter and will likely get a reduced sentence. His chances of walking are still high.
Most important, no matter what happens, we as a community stand behind Trayvon Martin, his family and all of the similar injustices that plague not only our country, but our world as well.
Which leads me to this.
Anthem Inc.
If you can remember way back towards the very beginning, you’ll remember that Zimmerman wasn’t even taken in for a crime. In fact, it was Florida’s Stand Your Ground Law that actually shielded him from such an event. It took protests, petitions, “million hoodie marches,” demonstrations ,vocal output and action to actually bring authorities around to arresting Zimmerman and charging him for second-degree murder.
One of the biggest groups behind Trayvon Martin and the calling for social justice was the hip-hop community. Not only were there demonstrations and peace talks, but also artists and MCs (both high on the spectrum and underground) were making dedication songs to a story that is all too familiar in the hip-hop realm.
“I’m pretty much not the one to be told that a trial is going to make everybody feel straight and clear … The obvious point is that this young man lost his life from an unjust situation, and it needs to be hammered home. That’s bottom line.”
In the same article, rapper Game goes on to talk about the historical relevance of the Trayvon Martin story:
“For some reason, people don’t think that they need any excuse to kill us, beat us, hit us, run us over, disrespect us or anything like that. This is just another reminder that stupidity still exists.”
And even going past race, hip-hop recognizes that this story touches so close to the community because Trayvon was only a kid. Chuck D’s wife, Professor Gaye Theresa Johnson points out:
“We’re talking about a grown armed man who shot an unarmed child, regardless of race.”
From the outpour and concerns, the hip-hop community has also unleashed a plethora of tribute songs. And although some are better than others, a situation like this shouldn’t be judged on musicality, but sincerity.
On Jasiri X’s song “Trayvon,” he raps over the fitting beat of “No Church in the Wild” to explain the event that took place. It’s a haunting tale, especially over the churning production of “No Church…,” but its Jasiri’s vocal cadence and lyrical detail that reinforces both strength and sadness regarding this story.
“He had just came up from Miami to see his daddy / Who knew such a great weekend would end badly? / In a place where you move because it’s safe for your family / When some people gotta have grown hate for your family.”
Alternatively, on “Date of My Death (Trayvon Martin),” Tahir Jahi tells about continual injustices and the fight “for whatever is left.”
“Sick of innocent getting wronged by the ignorant / Who will benefit from this medicine / Coming from my lungs to warn veterans please let them in / Fuck Democrats and Republicans I don’t care bout your publishing.”
“Made You Die,” a song by Dead Prez, RBG member mikeflo and Yasiin Bey, takes a more revolutionary approach and expresses that the Trayvon Martin shooting is the straw that broke the back.
“Cause we do the same thing expecting different results / I’m checking the vital signs but I ain’t getting no pulse.”
These are just a few examples, but from the hundreds of Trayvon Martin tribute songs, it’s a clear-cut sign that this story isn’t simply a resurgence in hip-hop awareness. Rather, it’s a sign that the problems that plagued the hip-hop community from the very beginning are still very much alive. Moreover, hip-hop has always been something representing that fight, or that something to fight for, and this 16 month story is putting that fight on the national spotlight.
Finding Forever
The shooting of Trayvon Martin and the George Zimmerman trial are part of a bigger story. On the surface you have an unjust Florida law that allowed a grown-man to murder an unarmed boy. However, at the core you have bigger issues. There are issues on race, oppression, stereotyping and issues of our country’s growth in general. It’s been 50 years since the “I Have a Dream Speech,” and yet we as a whole are yet to fully embrace it. We have continued to see the slayings of innocent and unarmed minorities (especially the black youth), and we have continued to see the perpetrators let off unfairly. Despite the vast improvements we’re making as time goes by, it’s not enough. We need action.
When the story of Trayvon Martin first surfaced, it took action to have the Sanford Police Department even consider charging George Zimmerman. This action, which included the protests and marches, directly resulted in an arrest and a second-degree charge. Millions of people around the country, whether they were involved with hip-hop or ordinary citizens, took to the streets and voiced their say.
Likewise, in the 60s and 70s, Americans protested the Vietnam War with action. Citizens marched, musicians sang and artists unveiled works all for one common cause. More specifically, these times brought upon thousands of musicians coming together and demonstrating resistance and action through song. One such example is Country Joe McDonald’s “Feel Like I’m Fixing to Die”:
“And it’s one, two, three, what are we fighting for? Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn, next stop is Viet Nam. And it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates, ain’t no time to wonder why, whoopee we’re all gonna die.”
These examples of action demonstrate one thing that must be recognized: unity. We cannot as people continue along our petty ways of indifference if we expect to see change. Furthermore, we need to march together for the bigger causes worth fighting for. Politicians need to stop fighting for “seats” and actually work together and listen to the constituents. Law enforcement needs to stop playing stats and work on bettering the country as a whole. News outlets need to spread attention to all the important stories and stop broadcasting from one side. Focus on education needs to start playing to the needs of the kids instead of standardized tests and statistics. People need to look past skin color, culture, gender, sexual orientation and religious affiliation when judging one’s character. And we as a whole need to realize hatred and injustice are a waste of time; life’s too short to be full of hatred.
We need to come together like so many cultures and people have come together in the past, and fight for these things. We need to come together like hip-hop did for Trayvon Martin. We need to express ourselves, not just vocally, but through art, discussion, workshops, demonstrations, protests and marches. If we don’t take action, we won’t see change.
Along with action, we also need hope.
Tweeting from court Tuesday, Trayvon’s mother Sybrina Fulton wrote: “Day 17 – Remember God gives His toughest battles to His strongest soldiers. Please know I can’t give up now, I’ve come too far. Continue to keep us lifted in prayer.”
“I wrestle with a number of routine judgments and trials,” Alexandrah sings on “The Curse.” “They’re counting down the days till I’ll be dead, or change my style. Assumptions made by stranger’s everyday, like they’ve read my files. Laymen relate with jokes they make. The catch to my laughter is I’m forcing a smile.”
This is Sollilaquists of Sound (SoS), the hip-hop quartet from Orlando, Florida, and sprawling over No More Heroes are themes of social exploration, political and governmental injustice and the media’s far-reaching hands. It’s an accomplishment to get these topics on point throughout the length of an album, but what really stands out is that No More Heroes writes itself as a detailed self-reflection by a group that is merely trying to understand the due process of life. “It’s the curse of pioneer, but I know I got a good thing going here.”
It’s quite easy for an artist to fall one of two ways when constructing conceptual pieces like this. On one end, you can easily trade meaning for melody and fall prisoner to being melodically obsessed. On the other end, you can sacrifice all aspects of melody in order to display a concise project. With these options, an album can be strong, but it’s far from complete. However, No More Heroes pushes both sides evenly, as it neither strays nor conforms on thematic atmosphere.
The obvious thing revolving around No More Heroes is that it’s an effective social outfit. On the electric bubbling opener “Marvel,” which cross-bends up-tempo breakbeats and flow that’s soaked in classic OutKast influence, SoS tackles being socially conscious. By the near end of the song however it starts to become apparent that this is also one of many points where the quartet questions ones self (“Take a little credit for your faults/Halt that personal closure towards your vault.”). Elsewhere, the album covers the media’s negative persona (“Popcorn”), exploitation (“Harriet Tubman, Pt. 2”) and an artistically drawn tribute to the late great J Dilla (“Death of the Muse”).
Although the subject matter gracing No More Heroes is nothing new, it’s presented in both a detailed and melodic stance, further proving that message without melody is meaningless. The variation provides a process for the listener that isn’t boring, and in the end it’s rewarding to find out that the album has many peaks. Spanning just over 60 minutes, No More Heroes lends us a hand in further understanding the world and what encompasses it; furthermore, it teaches us about ourselves and that there is no restriction to thought and what we can accomplish.
Gus’ Thought:
The 2008 album, No More Heroes, by the Sollilaquists of Sound is a first-rate listen from start to finish because of the musicianship, lyricism and message contained within it. The quartet made up of MCs Alexandrah, Swamburger, poet Tonya Combs and producer Divinci hailing from Orlando deliver an album combining spoken word, rapping, singing, live instrumentation and inventive beats. The first song “Marvel” begins with a womp-like bass line that quickly transitions into a deliberate drumbeat layered with synthesizer. From there, we move to “Harriet Tubman, pt. 2” where the group examines the consequences of exploitation in the United States due to the obsession with making a profit. As Swamburger states, “Now eeny-meeny-miny-mo/Aunt Jemima, Sambo/Uncle Ben and Mammy too/Which one are you black people? Forced to package soul in boxes.” No More Heroes is important because of how it confronts social issues with thoughtful lyricism and good music.
Within No More Heroes, there is a continuous shift between fast, medium and slow songs. This makes the album enjoyable to listen to because as Swamburger continually demonstrates his skill as an MC, Alexandrah will swoop in out of nowhere, counterbalancing Swamburger’s rhymes with her beautiful and melodic voice. For instance, “Popcorn” and “The Curse” are slower, more reflective songs that are made by Alexandrah’s voice. Following these is “Dolla Dolla,” a groovy, faster paced piece accompanied by a New Orleans style brass ensemble. At this point on the album, it seems that it couldn’t get any better. Then, “Death of the Muse” drops. This song features J Dilla’s mother Ma Dukes, J-Live and Chali 2na. Highlighting hip-hop royalty, “Death of the Muse” pays tribute to the legend that is J.
As a musical composition, No More Heroes is a tour de force. However, what makes this album even more remarkable is the political, social and economic messages embedded within each song. On “The Roots of Kinte,” Swamburger spits over sample hand drums. “Hello my name is whatever the game is/Whatever it’ll take to make you famous.” In “New Sheriff in Town,” Alexandrah describes: “Case of break, rape of address/Vacant cranium, man do the rest/Found best kept secret property of government suddenly/Now youth owes rent, tenant of stress.” Some music is pleasurable to listen to because of the musicality, but lacks any sort of consciousness or message. I am not saying that every song has to have some sort of political meaning. However, in the case of No More Heroes, the critically conscious messages embedded within the music makes the album an entertaining, and educational experience.
Must-Listens:
“The Curse”
“Marvel”
“Death of the Muse”