"I'm just saying how I feel man / I ain't one of the Cosbys, I aint going Hillman"

"In our country, the kind of contact that rubs away race consciousness is possible only in rare places, and intermittently. But it exists, in scattered underground pockets of resistance to the norm. One of them is the Negro college, where white people can become so immersed in a Negro environment that they are oblivious, at least temporarily, of race. The fact that they live on an island, against which waves of prejudice roll from time to time, means that they slide back and forth from over-consciousness on some days to a blissful amnesia on others.

A white student, after several months living, eating, studying, playing in a totally Negro college environment, visited a nearby white college and returned saying, "How pallid they all seemed--all those white faces and sharp noses!" This is a startling example of race consciousness in reverse, but it is encouraging to see how quickly one can change the temper of racial awareness by an inundation of sense experiences.

Once the superficiality of the physical is penetraded and seen for what it is, the puzzle of race loses itself in whatever puzzle there is to human behavior in general. Once you begin to look, in human clash, for explanations other than race, they suddenly become visible, and even when they remain out of sight, it is comforting to know that these non-racial explanations exist, as disease began to lose its eeriness with the discovery of bacteria, although the specific problem of identifying each bacterial group remained."
--Howard Zinn, The Southern Mystique

"That's why you layin on your back, lookin at the roof of the church / Preacher tellin the truth and it hurts."

The white-wing news media is at it again.  There must be an election going on or something. 

After the storm that dropped down on Rev. Jeremiah Wright for the last few weeks, some conservative blogs and rags (the appropriate term for toilet paper) are moving onto attacking other religious and community leaders in Chicago--with the hopes of associating them with Democratic front runner Barack Obama.

Yesterday up at FrontPage magazine, Jacob Laksin put his sights on The Rev. Michael Pfleger, a Catholic priest on the South Side of Chicago affectionately described as a "blue eyed black soul" and a black man in a "white man's body" by those who know him.  Like Jeremiah Wright, Pfleger sees no disconnect in carrying on the words of Jesus Christ while advocating, educating, and organizing for social issues such as anti-drug campaigns, fighting against pornography, and poverty and urban violence outreach. 

Here are some excerpts of the beef Front Page mag rattles off.  Like most hip hop feuds based on people being members of the same group (posses or racial sects) the problem seems to start with Front Page saying to Pfleger "We gave you everything [white privilege] and you tryin' to fuck it up by not using it!"

During a Good Friday service this March, Fr. Pfleger, a pastor at St. Sabina’s church on Chicago’s South Side, bounded up to the pulpit and launched into a scathing sermon against “the stupid people.”

Despite the setting, Fr. Pfleger was not talking about those who had strayed from God. The targets of his scorn, rather, were those in the media – Pfleger singled out FOX’s Bill O’Reilly and MSNBC for special opprobrium – who had dared to cast a critical eye on a local prophet, the Reverend Jeremiah Wright.

That Pfleger would commit his church to a full-throated defense of the controversial preacher was no coincidence. For Fr. Pfleger and Rev. Wright share more than a zip code. In the tightly knit world of Chicago’s South Side, where churches dot nearly every street, Pfleger and Wright are close friends and political allies. And while Pfleger is white, he is in every other sense the mirror image of Rev. Wright. “Father Pfleger is the only black man I know in a white man’s body,” observes one Chicago pastor.

But Pfleger is not simply a white man heading a black congregation. He also is a devout preacher of the reigning catechism of the city’s South Side. It is an ethos of perpetual disenfranchisement that surpasses class barriers, and which holds that America, now as in the era of Jim Crow, is a fundamentally oppressive nation, especially toward its black citizens.

...

St. Sabina advertises its politics on its door, literally: A blue poster on the rectory door proclaims, “We oppose war!” Inside St. Sabina’s cathedral, one finds red, green, and black flags – the colors of black nationalism. In this respect the church, the largest black Catholic church and school in the Chicago archdiocese, is very much a vehicle for the political passions of Fr. Pfleger.

...

Fr. Pfleger is very much a throwback to that time. One can hear it in the stridency of his sermons, which he delivers with a barking staccato that makes him sound like a prize-fight announcer. One can see it, as well, in the appeals he sometimes writes to his parishioners, which he signs with the now-quaint idiom of a New Left activist (“In the Pursuit of Justice”) and in the fire-and-brimstone zeal that sometimes crosses the line from provocation into outright belligerence...

...

Unsurprisingly, Pfleger often invokes similar themes. Echoing Wright, he calls racism “America’s addiction.” Taking a cue from racial huckster Al Sharpton, a former guest at St. Sabina, Pfleger has waged campaigns against everyone from elementary school sports leagues to the Chicago Fire Academy, charging that these institutions are racist.

...

Pfleger’s political activism and his relationship with figures like Wright and Farrakhan might be of merely parochial interest, a curious glimpse into the troubling ties that run through Chicago’s South Side, were it not for the fact that Fr. Pfleger also is close to the most famous politician to pass through the community.

Pfleger says that he has known Obama for over twenty years. And while Obama worshipped at Wright’s Trinity Church, he is known to have made frequent visits to St. Sabina. Indeed, in one of the promotional videos for St. Sabina‘s, the Democratic candidate can be conspicuously seen in the congregation.

...

Yet, the relationship raises troubling questions about Obama’s judgment. After all, the racially charged, Afro-centric sermons that have forced Obama to distance himself publicly from Rev. Wright are no different than those that can be heard weekly at Pfleger’s St. Sabina’s church. Sometimes it can be difficult to tell the two institutions apart. On a recent evening, for instance, St. Sabina’s played host to a sermon by the Reverend Otis Moss, a protégé of Rev. Wrights who is currently the main pastor at his Trinity United Church. (Making clear his debt to Wright, Moss in his sermon likened media criticism of the reverend to the crucifixion of Christ.) Whatever criticism can be leveled at Wright can be directed, with equal justice, at Fr. Pfleger.

...

Now, as Obama seeks to distinguish himself from the likes of Rev. Wright, he must show that such echoes are only that. And he must explain, more adequately than he has to date, why voters should bet on him to achieve the racial reconciliation that his close friends and advisors, including Fr. Pfleger, have only served to delay.

The Wackness trailer

This trailer has been spreading like wildfire on the 'net.  It's a coming of age flick about a white hip hop loving kid in NYC in 1994.  The soundtrack includes "The World is Yours" by Nas, "Just a Friend" by Biz Markie, and "'Flava in Your Ear" by Craig Mack.  The description is listed below:

It's the summer of 1994, and the streets of New York are pulsing with hip-hop and wafting with the sweet aroma of marijuana--but change is in the air. The newly-inaugurated mayor, Rudy Giuliani, is beginning to implement his anti-fun initiatives against "crimes" like noisy portable radios, graffiti and public drunkenness. Set against this backdrop, Luke Shapiro (Josh Peck) spends his last summer before college selling dope throughout New York City, trading it with his shrink (Ben Kingsley) for therapy, while crushing on his step-daughter (Olivia Thirlby). Famke Janssen, Mary Kate Olsen,and Method Man round out the cast in this edgy, bittersweet, and funny coming of age story.

"Just like Muhummad Ali they called him Cassius!"

From Chris Faraone's Myspace Blog. Our boy is selling himself short when he says he's just "Pissing In America's Stream of Consciousness." This is on some next shit:

Name-Dropping (From Columbia Journalism Review May/June 2008)

The New York Times rarely refers to rock stars such as Alice Cooper, Moby, and Elton John by their birth names. With few exceptions, Vincent Furnier, Richard Melville Hall, and Reginald Dwight get free passes on their alter egos, as do the likes of American Idol icon Clay Aiken (Clayton Grissom) and anti-Christ superstar Marilyn Manson (Brian Warner).

For some reason, though, the unofficial guideline that once compelled former Times critic Donal Henahan to make subsequent reference to Iggy Pop and Sid Vicious as Mr. Pop and Mr. Vicious (instead of Mr. [James] Osterberg and Mr. [Simon John] Beverly, or even Pop and Vicious) does not apply, apparently, to hip-hop artists. At the Times, the penalty for being a rapper is twofold: you are routinely called out on your birth name (no matter how nerdy and ironic it might be), and you rarely are addressed as "Mr." This nominal double standard surfaces from time to time in hip-hop articles throughout the mainstream press, but due to the Times's extensive urban-music coverage and its eternal struggle with honorific conformity, rap handles seem to inspire more copy dilemmas there.

Despite having sold several million discs and served as president of Def Jam Recordings under his alias, Jay-Z still gets pegged as Shawn Carter. The Times's David M. Halbfinger and Jeff Leeds did so in reporting on the Brooklyn rap entrepreneur's 2007 comeback, as did Los Angeles Times staff writer Richard Cromelin and the Boston Globe's Sarah Rodman. No hip-hop artist is immune—Wu-Tang Clan ringleader RZA (Robert Diggs), Queens heavyweight 50 Cent (Curtis Jackson), and urban mogul Diddy (Sean Combs) are all routinely birth-named in the mainstream press.

Sam Sifton, the Times's culture editor, says that while such decisions are handled on a case-by-case basis, rap artists often get special treatment. "There's a big difference between [Houston rapper] Bun B and Tony Bennett," Sifton says, referring to Bernard Freeman and Anthony Dominick Benedetto, respectively. "Tony Bennett took a stage name, which I think is a little different from taking an alias. Someone like Jay-Z can be Mr. Carter, certainly, or he can just be Jay-Z, but he's never going to be Mr. Z."

But is there a meaningful distinction between a "stage name" and an "alias"? That Sifton made an example of Jay-Z—rather than someone like, say, Ghostface Killah, whose chosen moniker is further outside the mainstream nomenclature—suggests that at the Times, at least, there is, and that rappers are in a class by themselves. Why else would a performer from beyond the rap realm, such as Alicia Keys—who took a stage name (or devised an alias) based on the instrument she plays—have never been outed as Alicia Augello-Cook? In Kelefa Sanneh's October 5, 2003, Times CD roundup, Outkast rappers André 3000 (André Benjamin) and Big Boi (Antwan Patton) got name-dropped, while Erykah Badu's birth name (Erica Wright) was never mentioned.

Even more confusing are articles that seem to follow no logic whatsoever: a December 3, 2006 Times profile on celebrity Sirius Radio hosts refers to rap personality Ludacris as Christopher Bridges (and as "Mr. Bridges" in subsequent references), but allows Eminem (Marshall Mathers), Snoop Dogg (Calvin Broadus), and Bob Dylan (Robert Zimmerman) to use their stage names. On second reference, though, Bob Dylan is "Mr. Dylan," while Eminem remains Eminem; Snoop is only mentioned once, but judging by former Times treatments he would have been called "Snoop" or "Snoop Dogg" had his name come up again.

"If you look in our archives, which we famously refer to as our compendium of past errors, you'll see plenty of examples of us looking ridiculous," Sifton says. "One of the difficulties that the Times has in addressing contemporary culture, and certainly hip-hop culture, is that we risk looking stupid all the time."

Since it doesn't look like it will be abandoning honorifics any time soon, blanket uniformity might be the best bet for the Times to look less foolish, or at least more consistent. After all, if they can call Brian Warner "Mr. Manson," then surely America's finest newsrooms can honor Calvin Broadus as Mr. Dogg.

Bill Moyers on Jeremiah Wright

It's always nice to hear Bill Moyers talk about how his life would be like if he were black: