Archive for the ‘Jig Lit Review’ Category

HIP-HOP IS NOT ART…

Wednesday, September 6th, 2006

mantronix

MANTRONIX ‘Needle To The Groove’ cover by Gnome/Gemini

Did I tell you that Hip-Hop should have been diagnosed with the cancer of greed from the moment that the SugarHill Gang dropped their classic track ‘Rapper’s Delight’. If one of the members of the group had not willingly stolen GRANDMASTER CAZ’ rhymebook and brought it with him to the studio them dudes wouldn’t have had shit to say. Hip-Hop stopped being art a long time ago. It’s been dead for a long time too. All I see now are the cultural hustlers picking scraps off the carcass just like vultures. I see you out there…

When COMBAT JACK expressed himself last week I was going to let that be the end of the story since he bodied the dude who had been the lightning rod for the divisive seperatist talk. I don’t come from a place in Hip-Hop where there is a thing such as old school or new school, ’70s or ’80s baby. Where I come from there is only fresh and wack, good or bad. Don’t buy product or ideas from a seperatist. They might have on a fitted cap and a hoodie, but trust me they are only posing. They aren’t really Hip-Hop. Another thing that has killed Hip-Hop has been the people with no talent thirsty to wear the laminate that reads ‘Talent’. If any of you young dunns out there are trying to put yourself onstage please don’t put your trust in management that puts their name before yours.

Whenever I see an A & R or a manager that has a thirsty gut for the ‘Talent’ laminate I feel sorry for the artist that they are supposed to be working for. The artists needs are not going to be addressed when the A & R or the managment is doing everything other than working on the artists’ project. I watched my peoples work at Rawkus and bust their ass for the stable of musicians that were on that label. MOS, TALIB, PHAROE and the immortal BIG L had a team of people behind them that could have easily wanted to jump around on stage with a microphone they damn selves, but those cats played their position and rocked their lane. Some of y’all might know some of the names and that is my point right there. For the true backbone and support staff in the game there is no lust for fame that supersedes the desire to have the artist top billin’. If you are an A & R or an artist manager I should not know your name. Even if you have groomed dozens of artists for the big show I still should not know your name. If I know of you but don’t know of any musicians you have prepared for the grind then you are fronting. There ain’t no future in fronting.

Speaking about fronting, what it do with all the ghostwriting in the crap game? I stopped by ESKAY and picked up the Dre/Crooked I track and I thought it was weird that someone was spitting something obviously written to be performed by someone else. Crooked I didn’t even apend the verses to sound as if her were an emissary of Dre. He spit the rhymes as if HE was Dre. What the fuck is that about? I know that Dre has dudes writing for him since forever. Cube, D.O.C., Snoop even Jigga gave him a song or two, but this episode calls into question the rumors that I have heard for years that Dre doesn’t even produce his tracks.

What is real and originally created in the crap music industry now? Which is worse, biting someone’s rhymes or writing someones’ lyrics? Is it fair for those artists that create the persona and toil in background? Or does all of this go back to my point at the top of the page? Is this the lane that some folks choose for themselves or is it being assigned to them? Hip-Hop lost its way in the bright lights of big business and was run over like a deer caught dead in the headlights of a corporate Mack truck. All that’s left now is a rotting carcass for the vultures to pick away.

BLACK WOMEN = SCARY x (2)BOSSY

Wednesday, September 6th, 2006

black women

You do the math!

Thank goodness I have a broad’s opinion to buttress this post against, or all of you developmental studies graduate degreed dreadlocked feministas from North Carolina Community College would be bringing your pink pitchforks to my door. Y’all still got a chip on your shoulder ’cause that Duke case is smelling like another TAWANA BRAWLEY. People need to stop hating the messenger just because they don’t want to hear the message.

JOY JONES is one of y’all whether you believe me or not. She submits her essays to the Washington Post. You might remember her jawnt, ‘Marriage Is For White People‘. Well now Ms. JONES has turned it up a notch to explain, ne, ‘splain why most of you Black women aren’t fulfilling your domestic birthright of holy matrimony as ordained by the baby Jesus Christ. She calls this winner, ‘Why Are Black Women Scaring Off Their Men?: A Fighting Spirit Is Important-But Not At Home‘. But you can read all of that later on your own time.

This is my time now hotdammit and I want to know what is more important than serving me (in the collective royal sense – the Black man)?!? Don’t you understand that we are being attacked constantly at the workplace (those of us that have jobs) and in the media (those of us that read newspapers, watch television) so much that all we would like would be to come home and have a warm meal and a pair of slippers at the door. But nooooooo, you have a meeting tonight with the exec admin staff about the new memo pad format. BOLSHEVIK!!! So it’s another night of microwave turkey breast for us and the kids that we picked up from the sitter. Fine. And then on nights that you are home it’s spaghetti. Again. We don’t give a fuck if you have put fresh garlic in the pasta. We have spaghetti 15 times a fucking month.

We wish we had the chance to have sex with you as often as we eat your spaghetti. You were such a sassy women when we were dating. Your sex appeal was out the roof. We were open for cunnilingus too. As a matter of fact, we got so good at it we became cunnilingual. You graciously shared your chocolate starfish with us. The only time I get to see that now is when you are showing me your ass during a discussion. You knew that we were working at a blue collar profession. Because we say save for life insurance and you say save for retirement doesn’t make us outmoded. We were a team before, Batman and Robin, and we are not going to be playing the position of Robin. Extra no LUTHER VANDROSS’ shoulder pad glitter jacket.

What we need is for you to play your position. Sit back in the passenger seat while we drive this family through the ups and downs. We’ll occassionally ask you for some directions. Just don’t cop an attitude when we don’t follow them. We love y’all to death, we just need for y’all to simmer down, stay sexy and shut the fuck up.

I Left My Heart At Howard U.

Monday, September 4th, 2006

222

Labor Day for me was always the time of year to refocus and prioritize on what it was that I wanted for myself for the rest of the year. I typically spent the summer playing the field of love, but in late August my hormones turned up the frequency so I didn’t end up with zero during the snowswept snuggle and cuddle winter months. I preferred a cutie from one of the Black colleges that occupied the mid-Atlantic states because I could always hop on the turnpike for a few hours and I still had my relative autonomy while I remained in New York City. I would have sworn to you that NYC had the greatest collection of redbone cuties until SOUNDWAVE, RANDY and I came across a pack of hotties from Howard University during the 1989 Labor Day Greekfest at Virginia Beach.

RANDY was S.W.’s cousin who lived in VA Beach. RANDY’s folks put us up for the weekend and we all spent our time on the strip bothering anything that would give us the time of day. As usual, I have to be the clown of the crew and the sassy sisters didn’t mind putting me in my place when I got too sideways. My G was always too futuristic for young girls anyhoo. I needed some college meat to test my mettle. I complimented toenail polish colors and whoever had done the best job in shaving herself. My dudes and I were having a good enough time just posting up on the boardwalk when along came this crew of cocksmashers. I call them that because they all had their walk together and proper. You know that walk that a young lady has when she is trying to tell everybody that she has been doing her ‘Kegel’ exercises? These little girls had that walk and they had the prettiest eyelashes of any crew that was on the strip that weekend. These broads had that kryptonite.

big pimpin'

The next step for the dudes and I was to get to know this crew of young sweet hotness, but how do you break into a girl group that is seven deep without getting dissed and dismissed? This is my specialty. I attack the alpha females top lieutenant with my charm. Not the alpha female, because she will have to show out for her girls to prove her leadership dominance, and not the weakest link among the ladies who is still slightly uncomfortable in her skin and may not know how to receive a compliment yet. The second in charge was a tender little brownskin sister with a battery pack bubble backside just as sweet as a piece of chocolate cake. In my mind, I am sure I made that sound where your lips smack just as you are about to enjoy something tasty.

“Hello Ms. Beautastic, you look just like my favorite cup of coffee, dark and sweet.”

Okay, I agree, but that is how you do it people — confident cornballness. The laugh of the sister and some of her friends meant that I hit my target. The next step was for me to introduce my dudes. S.W. and RANDY are both good lookin’ dudes so that wasn’t the problem in as much as there were seven ladies and only three of us. Don’t play yourself into thinking that ratio means menage status because most college girls in the ’80s and ’90s that weren’t into coke weren’t into swinging either. Don’t get me wrong, college girls were always giving up mean head and booty pie, but unless they were from Detroit you weren’t gonna be able to freak out.

big pimpin'

None of these ladies were from the ‘D’ either. They were all Cali broads that were attending Howard University. They were all freshmen and they had heard about the Greekfest on campus so they decided to drive down. 18yr olds with their own cars 3000 miles from home. I give credit to these Cali broads for being as gangster as they were. They drove to the beach on a whim and they didn’t even have a hotel room. We all hung together for the rest of the day into the evening. Later that evening when the strip was fully crowded and blown out a riot began. It was so crazy that Army helicopters and National Guardsmen cut off access to the beach. Since we were all stuck together we decided to share a hotel room. Real talk is that all 10 of us slept together on two queen size beds and no one popped off anything.

What that night allowed us was carte blanche to hang with these sisters at Howard U. anytime we wanted. S.W. and I ‘borrowed’ a Maserati from Greenich Village and went to their Homecoming weekend. The ladies brought us to a brunch spot called Julios that served chicken, waffles and mimosas for only $7 bucks a person. Those Howard U. chicks knew how to have a good time too. Almost twenty years later I am still friends with them. Even the ones that I’m not friends with anymore.

Too bad youth is wasted on the young.

DALLASPENN.COM = LOSER

Monday, September 4th, 2006

losers

“If youre not in first place, then your a loser” – Ricky Bobby’s daddy

The votes have been tabulated and DALLASPENN.COM is a loser in the 2006 Black Weblog Awards. This is no less then we expected seeing the competition that we were up against. The breadth of content and totally awesome writing of the other two blogs that we were up against made us realize why we will never be the most popular site on the internets.

That and the fact that we don’t take it up the azz.

losers

Now we’re not bitter that we didn’t win because we realize that even the best websites were passed over this year or not even nominated at all. At least NAH’RIGHT and ZILLZ brought home some hardware without being sites that completely pander to bullshit and suck azz so that makes me a little happy.

The one bit of solace that I take with me after losing what amounts to a high school popularity contest is that even as a fat boy, I am still the best looking out of the retards chosen for my category.

losers

The Dark Phoenix Saga

Sunday, September 3rd, 2006

jean grey

Copping those Air max 90’s reminded me of how much I enjoyed the Dark Phoenix saga inside the X-Men comic book series. As a matter of fact I think this event was sadder for me then learning that there wasn’t a Santa Claus. Jean Grey was a woman that was endowed with an incredible amount of uncontrollable power. It wasn’t long before she was corrupted and then consumed by that power. I wanted her to win in the end, but what I didn’t realize is that sometimes death is a victory. It still hurts though.

Walk with me for a minute as we go through the issues that lead up to her demise…

134

X-MEN #134
The X-Men defeat the Knights of the Hellfire Club, but in the process they lose Jean Grey forever. Her mind was altered by the villain Mastermind, who was impersonating a Victorian era gentleman named Jason Wyngarde. In the process of infiltrating Jean Grey’s brain Mastermind unlocked some of the pyschic barriers that Professor X had installed to keep Jean Grey from realizing the potential of the Phoenix power. Now that the Phoenix was unleashed it repaid Mastermind by essentially performing a lobotomy on him without the surgery, reducing Mastermind to the comicbook version of TERRI SCHIAVO. The Phoenix then becomes the Dark Phoenix.

135

X-MEN #135
Defeating the Hellfire Club was simple compared to trying to tame the raw fury of the Dark Phoenix. Part of the reason the X-Men are having difficulty is because they don’t want to hurt Jean Grey while trying to put the Dark Phoenix in check. No dice. The Dark Phoenix knows all of their weaknesses and it doesn’t want to be stifled. In short, the X-Men’s ass is grass.

136

X-MEN #136
The Phoenix force has totally consumed Jean Grey’s body and is out of control. Drunk with freedom it traveled into another solar system and consumed an entire star, similiar to the Sun that our Earth rotates around. Unfortunately, the star was also the life giver to the planets within its system and one of those planets was inhabited by billions of lifeforms that were all killed when the Dark Phoenix consumed the star. The Dark Phoenix was an out of control universal force. Some say the Dark Phoenix is more powerful than Galactus. For whatever reason the Dark Phoenix returned to Earth it gave the X-Men one last chance to defeat it. Professor X recruited Jean Grey’s parents in the hopes that they might be able to reach whatever was left of Jean’s pysche that the Dark Phoenix had not corrupted. With that small opening the Professor engaged in a telepathic duel with the Dark Phoenix for the soul of Jean Grey. With Jean’s help the Professor was barely able to subdue the Dark Phoenix.

137

X-MEN #137
For my money this is the greatest comicbook ever created. The art and the story are the most incredible flight of fancy and emotion that I have ever ridden. FRANK MILLER’s Daredevil and Dark Knight books are a close second and third, but if I could only have one single issue of any comic title it would be this one. The X-Men are kidnapped by the Imperial Guard and Jean Grey is placed on trial for the crimes that the Phoenix has committed. The X-Men offer to duel with the Imperial Guard for Jean’s life and a battle royale ensues. The X-Men are getting their asses handed to them on a platter when suddenly the Phoenix re-emerges to thump out everybody. Jean Grey can feel the power surging inside of her and before she can be transformed again into the Dark Phoenix she decides to take her own life. Cyclops can be seen crying over her ashes as the book concludes. Classic good shit.

138

X-MEN #138
A chapter ends for the X-Men as Scott Summers leaves the group after the loss of his true love. Scott and Jean were the last two members of the original team that were still with the group, but after this issue the X-Men will be comprised of only members that came on in issue #94.

JOHN BYRNE and CHRIS CLAREMONT did a masterful job on the X-Men series and despite the difficulties that these two creative people had working with each other the end product is something greater than they could have ever created alone. Because of these comic books I wanted to become a writer so that Jean Grey would live on forever, but alas, nothing lasts forever.

Except for love.