Archive for October, 2006

Time To Snatch A Du-Rag: JAY-Z

Tuesday, October 31st, 2006


Editor’s note: The youngest in charge of the blogosphere is 15 year old? wunderkind RODNEY DUGUE. Don’t even ask me where this prodigy has learned so many of life’s lessons without being old enough to buy beer – legally. His initial offering to this site was the visionary theme that du-rags appear to restrict the flow of blood into the brain of the wearers. For DP dot com’s guest blogger week, RD comes back with a follow up that takes some of the air out of the Jiggerman hype machine. Do you know what time it is???

It was reported that while Jay was fishing for one of Beyonce’s weaves, he discovered his long, lost limited edition Reebok du-rag. I will bet you 50’s du-rag collection and Mark Foley’s kiddy porn empire that Lebron gave him that du-rag right after he finished high school. How do I know? The last time Lebron committed anything more than a personal foul was that time he accepted those mysterious throwback jerseys. Homeboy has been clean like the kicks he gets paid to wear.

But, back to Jay-beer, WTF dude. Seriously, you had us ROC’ing with you, fella. Breaking bread with African kings, dishing out water to the needy, damn negro, I was actually believing the ‘S’ stood for Saint, as in Saint Carter. Mother Theresa was having a party in the heavens. But, then shit started going down, literally. You were living in Danica Patrick’s temple for that whole video shoot and probably contracted that rare STD, general cranium negro-philis. For those of you who haven’t caught on yet, general cranium negro-philis is the direct effect of wearing a du-rag. Jay was exhibiting hyper-symptoms. He had his du-rag tied extra tight when he accepted the position of brand consultant of Anheuser. I know we both look alike, (we’re both black) but damn Jay no matter how you flip it, we ain’t those alien boots known to man as S dot Carters.

Stop trying to sell us out. You’re becoming more and more like that du-rag – dispensable and cheap. You selling us water in one hand and death in the other. NOW, let me understand this, you drop Cristal, but then allegedly partner up with another high-end champagne Arnolds dick-Yuck Armand de Brignac. Negro, you ever drink apple juice? What, you piss out Bacardi? You might as well go back to them hustling days because right now you hustling the Black community like that new black-market drug and the white man is your best customer.

Change clothes Jay, and while you’re at it throw out the du-rag


This BUD’s For You…

Tuesday, October 31st, 2006

king of beers

The Jiggerman Effect seems to take hold of anything with a puny brain.

The Cardinals manage to win the World Series at BUSCH Stadium and Budweiser’s stock is up several points on the NYSE big board. Is all of this excitement in anticipation of JAY-Z’s comeback album and subsequent tour which is being underwritten by The King of Beers?

What this should mean for rap music in another ten years will be a new spinoff genre from gangsta rap called domestic violence rap. Where inexpensive alcohol represents a symbol of success and acheivement women usually get beaten.

That is where Hip-Hop and rap music will need to look when trying to figure out why the artistic movement demised. Becoming the commercial soundtrack for all of the things that destroy a community is never how you perpetuate art.

Crack cocaine left a bone-deep slash through the community. Now here comes Superman to pour Budweiser on that open wound.



BLING! It’s A Celebration Bitches!

Monday, October 30th, 2006


I had the good fortune last week of being invited to several premieres and debuts of works of art created by Black artists. The first piece was a one man performance by ROGER GUENVER SMITH titled ‘Who Killed BOB MARLEY?’ I can’t even begin to tell you about the kind of pretension that was in the air, but for those of you that know Black people… That really, really know Black people… To you folks I say that the room was filled with liteskin niggas with no moustaches. ‘Nuff said.

The second function was being held at the museum for the City of New York and that fact alone meant that the snobbery might be at a high level here as well. The Museum of the City of New York drew my ire when they installed this exhibit called ‘Black Style Now’. I take umbrage with anyone and anything that attempts to codify what ‘Black’ means. When you enter the museum you are greeted by five black mannequins fully clad in clothing meant to illustrate five pop culture music icons. KANGAY WEST, BeYONCE, LENNY KRAVITZ, LIL’ KIM and The King of All Jigs, DIDDY. The mannequins are dressed in outfits that these stars purportedly wore at some time. None of the outfits were created by Black designers. The museum also had the nerve to say that the POLO Ralph Lauren rugby on the KANGAY mannequin was the same one in the enlarged photo that stood behind the display. Any true representative of the ‘lifestyle’ could tell that wasn’t the truth. So from the gate the ‘Black Style Now’ exhibit was really a celebration of white fashion designers and the jigs who love to play dress up in their shit.

Thankfully, I wasn’t here to pick apart the museum and their faux negro nonsense. I came through to celebrate the book release of ‘BLING: The Hip-Hop Jewelry Book’. The book is an illustrated documentation of the evolution of rap artist’s fascination with jewelry. It’s a light-hearted tome meant to follow the progression of jewelry trends within the rap music industry. You see how these artists describe their self-value through their adornment. There are stories inside about some of the legendary jewelers that were necessary tradesmen in attaining rap artist status.

Leave your politics at the rally in front of Tiffany’s. This book isn’t meant to educate you on the diamond trade or the precious metals mining process. If you want to see kids missing appendages then you are missing the point. The rap music business is filled with men who were raised by women and therefore they are attracted to shiny necklaces and baubles like their mothers are. Instead of condemning these young men for what you perceive to be their lack of global-socio-economics you should just buy this book from Amazon. I’m mad that I didn’t. I could have saved more than one third of the money that I spent in the museum’s book shop.

The best part of the book is that there are photos of some of the Gods in the rap game when truck gold was the shit. RAKIM, ERIC B, BIZMARKIE and SLICK RICK. There’s a photo of GHOSTFACE wearing the ‘Wonder Woman’ bracelet, but what was even more illmatic was the pendant he was rocking that was the size of a manhole cover. The history of grills is shown which should help some of you youngbloods learn that New York City had hit it, quit it and shitted it before the Derrty even could get with it. The other good point of this book is that both of the authors have moustaches, albeit slight ones. The biggest lesson I learned from this week was…

Never trust a Black man without any facial hair.


2006 World Series: Who The Fuck Cares?!?

Monday, October 30th, 2006


My grandfather once said that only two things come from St. Louis – beers and queers. So while the Cardinals and the Tigers were playing a friendly game of baseball, news emerged that St. Louis had already edged out Detroit in another popular contest.

St. Louis leads U.S. in violent crimes committed in 2005..

This is some kind of acheivement if you think about and do the numbers. As far as aggregate population numbers are concerned St. Louis doesn’t occupy any of the top 10 positions in the United States. St. Louis isn’t even among the top 10 cities with a Black population. So in order for them to secure the high water mark for 2005 there had to be some people putting in hell’a work.

It all starts from the top of the local government with the mayor of St. Louis’ name being FRANCIS SLAY. How could this city not be a winner? Instead of having a parade for the Cardinals baseball club, Missourians should be celebrating their comeupance as the most gully municipality for the previous calendar year. Let’s give a salute to some of the people that have helped the ‘Show Me State’ show us the way to the return to violent crimes…


(former JOSE CANSECO syringe holder)
Controlled Substances Award

Respect this man for getting his anabolic steroid on and turning himself into a national hero.

dookie ALI
(NELSON’s weed carrier)
Driving While Black Award

The only funny part of this story is the rumor that ALI was tasered so much by the police that he committed an involuntary bowel movement in his Apple Bottoms.

(CLIVE DAVIS’ wig brusher/sack holder/yes VANDROSS)
Sexual Assault Award

Any old rapper can get busted for smoking weed and gun possession. Groping transexuals at an adult film awards show was this dude’s gateway to rap music fame.

(ELLIOT WILSON’s fade cream supplier)
Killing An Artist’s Dreams Award

I think I had actually considered purchasing the LUPE FIASCO ‘Food and Liquor’ CD until B.C. exposed the hypocrisy of his character and the duplicitous nature of LUPE’s lyrics.

DALLAS PENN Is The Black Jesus…

Monday, October 30th, 2006


Editor’s note: This little bit of blasphemy comes from one of the sites’ number one supporters. TONY’s KANSAS CITY took the reins right away when the call went out for guest bloggers to help fill these pages in my stead. TONY is a grade ‘A’ blogger in his own right and you folks will get to see just how sharp of a writer he is in the very near future. I appreciate the love that TONY has for my writing and if I were the Black Jesus I’d want to be the baby infant fetus Black Jesus. Think about it, the baby infant fetus Black Jesus didn’t have to worry about shit, just sucking on the placenta. Now that’s good living…

I desperately want to contribute to this site but I’m afraid that little of what I write will live up to the quality content that the D has been providing in this space. So I want you to know that I know that there’s no way I could compete, I’m just paying homage.

And while I have no idea why Dallas is going on hiatus I feel that any speculation would be crass if I clown and he subsequently ends up suffering a violent death, is sent to jail or goes on to host a program on BET… Tragic fates that seem to befall far too many African-American men. So, to start, I’ll let other folks deal with why Dallas is gone while I try to elucidate what his absence means to the Hip-Hop blogosphere by juxtaposing this catastrophic event with other comparable tragedies. Here’s a handy (lame) top five list if you’re keeping count:

5. The Day the Blogging Died – Dallas Penn as the Big Bopper? No homo. Let’s not forget that Ritchie Valens was on that plane as well and D has taught us all about not only the Mexican/African connection but also that Latinas will give you a blowjob on the toilet.

4. The absence of Dallas on this blog is akin to Professor Griff getting kicked out of Public Enemy. I know, Dallas has never really let loose on the Tall Israelis who run cRap music but I know that he has a lot of loyal fans who may end up feeling like an S1W without daily marching orders. Note: There’s still hope since I recently read that the retired S1Ws have been recalled to active duty.

3. Tupac Assassinated In Las Vegas. This example provides even more hope because to this day Tupac has a much more productive career than most glorified strippers female rappers. So it turns out there is life after death even if you lost all of your faith after a storefront preacher tried to have sex with your mom.

2. Colin Powell’s resignation from the Bush cabinet. Okay, follow me here . . . I know some people will resent the affiliation I’ve drawn but in much the same way that Dallas has regaled us with past stories of his fuckups, we all get to watch the nightly news and see the mess that Powell got us into . . . Still, Powell is known as “one of the great public servants of all time” and let’s not forget that before he pimped the Iraq war he provided a brilliant and somewhat rare (sorry it’s true) example of an African-American political leader with integrity. So it’s understandable that so many people would hope for his return.

1. Finally, Dallas Penn is the Black Jesus – We wait for his return and mostly confuse what he taught us in the meantime.