Who knew camels liked hats so much?
Archive for the ‘C.R.E.A.M.’ Category
SEPARATED AT BIRTH: HAT BOYS
Tuesday, February 6th, 2007JAY-Z Gets Reparations For Black People In Brooklyn…
Sunday, February 4th, 2007
or, Why Is This Man Smiling So Hard?
There was a huge groundswell of grassroots chagrin and skepticism when Barclay’s Bank of London was awarded the bid for the naming rights to the arena portion of JAY-Z’s new megaplex real estate development in Brooklyn.
Yes, the same Barclay’s Bank that was a major underwriter for the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. Yes, the same Barclay’s Bank that has profitted from generation of civil war in central Africa. Yes, the same Barclay’s Bank that kept South Africa afloat during it’s apartheid regime when even the most greedy corporations had left that country shores. Is JAY-Z being used as a pawn by actual Net’s owner BRUCE RATNER, to satiate the colored people that are opponents of this eminent domain project or is JAY-Z the most incredible Black visionary since MARCUS GARVEY? Let’s examine some of the clues…
Those examples listed provide proof of the corporate synergy that JAY-Z and Barclays both share, but what if JAY were to take his 0.0000001 stake ownership in the Nets and his profits from the sale of the arena’s naming rights and buy a turkey for all of the families that are being kicked out of Brooklyn on their asses? I think Brooklyn residents need to start seeing that turkey as our reparations for slavery.
My advice to Brooklyn is to take the turkey while it’s available. That’s as good as shit is gonna get and in a minute it’s about to get a lot worse.
Roc-A-Fella y’all.
RECORD INDUSTRY RULE #4,080…
Thursday, January 25th, 2007
I will assume that all of you people that selected DJ DRAMA as one of your artists in the cRap Music Fantasy League are excited about the points you earned with his arrest and indictment on Federal racketeering charges. From the gate, the case smelled like week old vomit sitting on a New Orleans sidewalk. The more I learn about DJ DRAMA’s operation the more I see the classic set up.
DRAMA and the record industry were getting high together and selling dope together as partners. I say that metaphorically although I’m sure that someone in the record industry was sniffing coke. Those people do that a lot. The record industry was giving DJ DRAMA the music that he put on his mixtape CD’s. The record industry needed DRAMA because of his strong influence and connection to the southern markets for urban music. Although CD sales for the entire industry are flagging no matter what genre, DRAMA and the Aphiliates were operating a thriving business. This is incredible news since the CD format and the current record industry model are broken beyond repair.
CD’s now are the equivalent of cassette tapes back in 1987. In five more years the format will be totally obsolete. The recording industry has failed to accept and cultivate a new model that the public seeks and now the chickens are coming home to roost. Products like DJ DRAMA’s CD mixtapes were the industry’s last gasp for life. They provided the consumer the best possible product within the CD format. They also served as a platform for the emergence of new artists. Without the mixtape market how would FISTY SCENT have created the demand for his major label release album? Mixtapes had become the new A & R system for the music industry and that alone was making money for labels because it was saving them the expense of grooming these artists with the traditional A & R protocol.
But all of that wasn’t enough to save DJ DRAMA from the public humiliation and the soon to follow legal costs that he will be saddled with. DJ DRAMA got into the bed with a snake and there really couldn’t be any other outcome. Let’s see what happens when the mainstream media starts kicking in the doors of bloggers because we have a better model for disseminating information to their communities.
DP DOT COM = NO HOLLYWOOD
Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007
If I had come to Sundance ten years ago there’s a good chance that I would have been caught up in the matrix of the scene here. Constantly walking past celebrities and getting free shit is as intoxicating as drugs. Add drugs to the mix (as I prah’lee would have) and you set yourself up to being the ‘dude’. My focus and my grizzly right now is almost supernatural and I scramble to make up for a lost lifetime up to this point. Well not lost so much as wasted by being wasted.
The young lady that was sent by the company that funded the ‘Internets Celebrity’ junket is a nice girl. She lives in Los Angeles and she has worked in television and movies production. She’s a good kid and she has helped us move around here with relative ease considering the fact that we don’t have festival credentials. It’s mostly me and RAFI spitting game at whoever will listen as we politic our way around the place. Everybody up here is hustling for real. COMBAT JACK would have fun here because he can connect with everybody on some shit and his memory is wild sharp. Hustling someone or something is the name of the game on this side and that’s why DAME DASH and DIDDY are up in this piece.
Getting back to our young production assistant… Last night found RAF and me inside a premiere party for a flick called ‘The Good Life’. The P.A. used her connects to get us in the venue with no waiting. That’s a good look since everybody is lined up along the sidewalk in the d’brickashaw cold. By the way, Utah is on some cold shit that you wouldn’t believe. Cold for no gotdamn reason. Inside the party it was like how the record industry USED to be when they balled out. Catered food and waitresses walking around with cocktails just handing them out. Premium vodka cocktails too. Hollywood won’t never change. It’s in their blood to deep. Even at an independent film festival shit is excessive. Ten years ago I might have spazzed out. Not this time, not this year.
By the end of the night our production assistant was knocked out on the bathroom floor and I was busy loading up music tracks through my FTP client to post on this site tomorrow. I can remember many a night that I was on the bathroom floor myself. Homegirl will be fine, but I can see how Hollywood can fuck your head the fuck up with all of this extra shit. Thank GOD I made it up to this point. I pray that GOD keeps me standing on my feet from here on in. Hollywood is a fun place to visit, but I’d never survive if I had to live there.
GOING BACK TO CALI, NAHH I DON’T THINK SO…
Friday, January 19th, 2007
I should prah’lee kill myself for shamelessly swagger jacking Oh Word’s graphic concept, but I won’t kill myself just yet.
Peep this hot shit party people… The dudes that bought the ‘Bodega’ video are sending me and RAFI to the Sundance Film Festival this week to allow us to live out our dreams of partying in a white paradise. I’m loading up as much Coldplay, AVRIL LAVIGNE and Steely Dan on my iPod as I can find. White will be from the windows to the wall up in that bitch. Not even New York white either which becomes somewhat dingy due to the constant contact with colored peoples. I’m talking about that white that has never seen a real live Black person. Crazy snowshoe mountain white.
I’m gonna try and pitch the feature film edition of ‘Ghetto Big Mac’ where RAF and I make Big Macs out of Filet-O-Fish sandwiches and Chicken McNuggets. Fuck what ya’ momma told you, that shit will be bigger than ‘Spider-Man 3’. I guess I’ll go see that movie where DAKOTA FANNING gives her baby starfish up. There’s another movie they’re screening that has SAM JACKSON chaining CRISTINA RICCI to a radiator? I always suspected that this was the kind of freakadelic shit white gets into when you let them convene in the mountains.
I swear if someone even asks me to push a button in an elevator…