Gov. Jindal attacks Louisiana art, culture with cuts

Louisiana wouldn’t be Louisiana without music and culture.

Arguably, no place possesses its uniqueness without some semblance of culture, but this state — and more specifically, New Orleans — wouldn’t be home to some of the greatest music, art and culture the world has ever known.

Obviously, Gov. Bobby Jindal either has no rhythm or has never been to Jazz Fest.

The biggest travesty to ever hit the state made itself known through Jindal’s 2009-2010 budget, which includes a debilitating 83 percent cut to a grants program that aids small arts programs across the state, along with a 31 percent cut to another program that assists local symphonies and theaters, according to The Monroe News Star.

The arts community wouldn’t let this stand, and they made their voices heard the best way Louisianians know how.

Hundreds of people took to the streets Wednesday in what was dubbed a “jazz funeral for Louisiana arts and culture.” Beginning in Lafayette Park, armed with drums, guitars and voices, the crowd mournfully danced through the streets and in front of the state Capitol in protest of the funeral of what makes Jindal’s home state as incomparable as it is.

In total numbers, the 83 percent cut seems small — a reduction from $3 million in funding to a little more than $500,000 — considering the $239 million expected cut in higher education.

But this struck a chord with Louisiana residents, who decided to do something about it.

Susan Brunner, art gallery owner and chair of the Louisiana Partnership for the Arts, told The News Star the 31 percent cut — $798,628 — from the $2.4 million Statewide Arts Grants would have a $4.8 million negative impact on state finances, while the arts and culture activities provide jobs to 144,000 people.

“It shows what a huge impact culture has on Louisiana,” Brunner said. “We bring money to the state. We’re the second largest employer in the state. There’s a $10 billion industry at stake.”

Ten billion dollars says Jindal’s never heard the Rebirth Brass Band rock Tipitina’s until four in the morning.

I doubt he’s ever even heard of Dr. John.

The governor doesn’t know what makes his state thrive. It isn’t the work ethic or the empowerment of working-class citizens.

Jazz great Wynton Marsalis knows what makes it unique, as he, along with pop legend Linda Ronstadt and opera singer Josh Groban, lobbied Congress on Tuesday for $200 million in funding for the National Endowment for the Arts.

For Marsalis, in the world of music, basic rules of math and science are out the window.

“One plus one equals three — me, you and the two of us together,” Marsalis told The Times-Picayune last week. “I’ve got my thing, you’ve got your thing and we come together.” It’s that intangible feeling we get whenever we go to Mardi Gras, dance in the rain or listen to anything from Fats Domino to the Funky Meters.

The jazz funeral shows our dedication to the lifeblood of our culture. Joyfully combining the sadness of losing a fellow friend with the greatness of knowing that person in the first place, jazz funerals are our way of saluting our dearly departed by saying, “It’s sad to see you go, but we loved having you here.”

Our music and culture are adventures in self-discovery, consuming our souls and spirits into one mean expression of life and heritage that will never be taken from us, no matter how big the budget cut.

Louis Armstrong once said, “My whole life, my whole soul, my whole spirit is to blow that horn.”

If Jindal knew anything about that, he would get off his high horse, stop trying to please his own supporters and show some real dedication to the state that elected him.

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It’s cool, Chuck D, we don’t have to fight anymore

“1989.”
Twenty years ago, Public Enemy simultaneously altered the faces of hip-hop culture and mainstream culture with its smash hit, “Fight the Power.” The song has since evolved into the standard for musical protest, joining the ranks of Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Rage Against The Machine, among countless others.

While the times have certainly a-changed for the better with the inauguration of President Obama, the song had less to do with the occupant of the White House than with much broader issues involving racism and racial discrimination.

For anyone blind enough to assume Obama’s inauguration fulfills the dream of Dr. Martin Luther King or issues a new, “post-racial” society, you are very sorely mistaken.

Setting America’s progress during the last 20 years aside, rap culture seems to have decreased at a rate inversely proportional with mainstream society.

In 20 short years, we have gone from “Fight the Power” to “My President is Black.”
Which, by the way, is my new favorite song.

Along with a phenomenally triumphant beat, the fact that Young Jeezy can say “My President is Black” and have it be true is enough to let me ignore the shout-outs to a blue Lambo with blue rims.

What was once a movement about artistic freedom and urban altruism has morphed into a feeble, sexist, homophobic and selfish genre, using whatever means possible to perpetuate stereotypes about rappers — in that they all like ice, rims, getting money and having sex with anything in sight.

I still listen to rap.

But much like Chris Rock, I’m tired and exhausted from defending it.

I can’t defend “If I take one more drink, I’ma end up fucking you,” the latest from Ludacris and T-Pain, the latter of which should be shot for turning the Auto-Tune into an entire genre.

I can’t defend “Wait Till You See My Dick,” even though SG’s Students on Target was good enough to give us the Ying Yang Twins at Groovin’ on the Grounds three years ago.

I can’t even defend another track from Young Jeezy’s album “The Recession,” called “I Put On.” I can’t defend him saying, “Hundred karat bracelet, I use it like some super bait.”

It’s gross and disgusting.

The only remedy for this situation is to take the route millions have already pursued, and it has nothing to do with illegally downloading music.

It’s called Pandora.

Pandora.com has revolutionized the way millions of music-lovers listen to music. Instead of letting MTV and BET tell us what to listen to and what makes “good rap” — which increasingly resembles emo music, since you can’t tell one song apart from the other —

Pandora users create stations based on an artist or a song.

This is how Aceyalone, Roots Manuva, The Crest and The Pharcyde all came into my life.

In terms of change, Obama himself put it best while on the campaign trail, saying “We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

There’s no reason why we can’t simply ignore the stale concentration of “misogofunk” emanating whenever MTV decides to actually air a video.

The last word goes to Chuck D: “We got to pump the stuff to make us tough from the heart. It’s a start, a work of art.”

Originally published in The Daily Reveille...

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Bernie Mac, Isaac Hayes redefined the words "Soul Men"

"Who's the black private dick that's a sex machine to all the chicks?"

"You don't understand. I ain't scared of you motherfuckers!"

Those were the first words uttered to me by Isaac Hayes and Bernie Mac, respectively. One introduced himself to me on Def Comedy Jam, while the other donned an apron and served knowledge as a cartoon cafeteria chef after a career defining what and how soul music sounds.

Both, however, influenced my life in ways I can't imagine.

This past weekend, however, the two lost their lives: Mac succumbing to a complication from pneumonia, while Hayes was found unconscious next to a still-running treadmill. Both dispensed wisdom as filthy as a drunken sailor's on shore leave. But while the pair made me laugh, both Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes were born entertainers, destined to make people smile with their evolving senses of performance.

This fall, the two will shine together for the final time, co-starring alongside Samuel L. Jackson in the upcoming film, "Soul Men." As the story goes, Jackson and Mac are two estranged soul-singing legends who go twenty years without a word to each other. The pair are forced to rally together at a reunion performance at the Apollo Theater when a fellow band member (John Legend) suddenly dies.

On August 9th, Jackson remembered Bernie Mac, reported in the Shreveport Times, the paper from a city where "Soul Men" was shot. "I feel blessed to have shared years of friendship with Bernie Mac," Jackson said. "I'm honored to have finally co-starred with him in what I consider to be his finest cinematic acting achievement."

The title of the article read "Samuel L. Jackson lauds Bernie Mac." Now, most assuredly, he lauds them both.

Already on the internet, the blog-o-sphere has ruptured wide open about a conspiracy involving the trio, with many suggesting that Jackson watch himself. It's that exact kind of thinking that A) you clicked on to get to this blog by Googling "bernie mac isaac hayes samuel l. jackson conspiracy," and B) does irreparable damage to the legacies of all three of these men. These two tragedies were mere coincidence, and to elaborate any further on the causes shows true ignorance coupled with severe lack of respect.

However, the pair are no strangers to controversy, no matter how inane and childish the claims may be. Take, for instance, Mac's joke at an Barack Obama fundraiser (at $2300 a plate, I might add) that led the presumptive nominee to rebuke the comedian's joke. The joke itself isn't new to the world; in fact, I'd heard a version of the joke before I'd heard of Bernie Mac. But it was apparently controversial enough to force people at the dinner to walk out, briefly shining a negative spotlight on Obama for not having YouTubed Mac's stand-up sooner.

Hayes earned himself a similar, equally perplexing, black mark when he left the cast of "South Park" after Trey Parker and Matt Stone ran an episode poking fun at the soul singer's religion of Scientology. Regardless of your feelings of the religion, Hayes has a constitutionally-protected right to worship as he chooses, and Parker and Stone showed a severe lack of class by dehumanizing Hayes's faith, especially after Hayes established himself as one of the most memorable cartoon characters in history as South Park Elementary's "Chef."

Regardless, these minor squabbles with the increasingly disingenuous P.C. police will not have the slightest place in the history of these two pioneers. More people, I guarantee you, will remember that Isaac Hayes wrote the classics "Soul Man" and "Hold On, I'm Comin" for the soul duo Sam and Dave. More people will recognize Bernie Mac's unrelenting wit combined with his no-nonsense approach to life, specifically on his Peabody-Award winning sitcom "The Bernie Mac Show," where he models his own life experience taking in his sister's three children.

When it comes to seeing the world from a pessimistic eye, Mac explained it best while having microphone trouble on stage during his smash "The Original Kings of Comedy:" "What type a shit is this?"

They complemented each other in style and in performance. Mac was in your face, helping -- nay, forcing -- you to see the world with a new lens, while Hayes's sultry baritone voice soothed any ill, ranging from impotence to general uncertainty. No matter how Mac's fiery commentary of the world and the minor nuances of life prepared you with laughter, you would be prepared enough before you took your partner home, lit the candles and put on Hayes's second album, "Hot Buttered Soul," for some all-night passion.

The loss of these two giants have left all of our souls wondering. Whether it be wondering about the future or whether or not their creative insight and relentless delivery will ever be replicated. It may be duplicated, but never as authentic or as revolutionary. Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes were two of the men I'd always seen myself emulating, whether in style or in fearlessness. But one thing is for sure: the world will never forget them, and the world will never see another pair quite like them.

For a while at least, all of our souls need a little mending.

Play these two videos at the same time. Start with the bottom one first and let them sink in.

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The YouTube Chronicles, IV

If I could write music, it might sound like this.

Mr. Luke, "A Symbol of Hope"

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Wyclef Jean brings a message, Carnival to the stage

Greg Talmage was OK. Ingram Hill did their thing. Matt Wertz came and went.

Chamillionaire got the crowd to bounce as high as the moon.

But nobody - I repeat, nobody - did it quite like Wyclef.

The University played host to greatness Saturday, as Wyclef Jean headlined Students on Target's Groovin' on the Grounds.

I've seen my fair share of shows in the past. I've seen The Who rock the same stage as Red Hot Chili Peppers, Gnarls Barkley and The Raconteurs. I've seen Radiohead play for 2 1/2 hours straight.

I've even seen Galactic and Rebirth Brass Band keep the party going until 6 a.m.

But I've never seen a show quite like Wyclef's this past Saturday.

The Haitian-born, Brooklyn musician began by showing his artistic side, asking the crowd to wonder what would happen "If I Was President." He then doused himself with a full bottle of water and screamed, "I'm awake now," before launching into "Sweetest Girl (Dolla Dolla Bill)."

I've seen stunts at shows before, with pyrotechnics blasting every which way. But I've never seen anyone straight-up climb the side of the stage.

During Lil' Wayne's verse of "Sweetest Girl," Wyclef climbed to about 30 feet, scared the crap out of his bodyguards and made everyone in the crowd scream, "There's no way this is really happening!"

Yes, that really happened.

The crisp, newly-cleaned air sent a chilling breeze over the crowd, forcing Jean to don a purple LSU hoodie as he took us back with a medley of club-bangers.

He made the crowd "Jump Around," House of Pain-style.

He was down with "O.P.P." Yeah, he knew us.

He asked us if he could "Rock This." We replied "Yes You Can!"

He then took a second and asked if we would "Let Me Clear my Throat."



For any refugees out there who missed the show, he kept it real. Albeit it was way too young a crowd for "Fu-Gee-La" and "Ready or Not," he grabbed a little boy out of the crowd and brought him center stage during Lauryn Hill's verse. He tried to ask him to get the crowd to put their hands up, but didn't make it to the end of the sentence before the little boy tore it up, on the beat, as the crowd went nuts.

It took me about three minutes to go from presentable in my white tee to soaked with sweat.

He introduced most of the crowd to his new album, "Carnival Vol. II: Memoirs of an Immigrant" by singling out a random guy from the crowd and asking him to come up and sing his part as Jean impersonated T.I. Before the song started, Clef put a pair of $3,000 shades on the guy's face, and by the end of the song, Clef said, "Don't worry, you can keep the shades."

That just happened, too.

He then introduced us to what happens in Haiti, Trinidad and the Caribbean during Carnival. With cool bass lines and hot bongo beats, Wyclef implored the crowd to wave their flags. If not flags, then take off your shirts.

Half the crowd instantly went shirtless.

"By the time this show is over," Wyclef announced, "You should all be butt naked."

He then got on his bodyguard's shoulders and walked straight into the crowd. People rushed over to get a glimpse up close, including myself. From the crowd he screamed, "FUCK GEORGE BUSH," to the dismay of the proper fraternity types behind us who stood the entire show and didn't move while sipping their all-too-obviously concealed Jack-and-cokes.

He soothed their types over about a minute later when he screamed "FUCK BIN LADEN!"

After making it back to the stage, he delivered his endorsement, "If you really want to see the change you want, you should make your voice heard and vote for Barack Obama.

"OBAMA FOR PRESIDENT!"

After ending the carnival, he walked off for a moment, immediately inspiring the "one more song" request.

As he came back out, the lighters - and a few cell phones - went up as he closed the show: "Oh won't you help me to sing these songs of freedom? Because all I ever have, redemption songs."

If you decided that Groovin' on the Grounds was a waste of time and didn't go, you've never missed out like you did this past Saturday.

To anyone that was there, though, soak it in. For one crisp, cool night, we were unified under the words of a true hero. Wyclef Jean made me believe.

I don't quite know exactly what I believe in, but it won't stop me from believing.



Originally published in The Daily Reveille...

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Compton celebrates Eazy-E Day to honor N.W.A. rapper

"You are now about to witness the strength of street knowledge."

Thirteen years ago, we lost a patriot.

Two weeks following the tragic passing of rapper Eric Lynn Wright, better known as "Eazy-E," Compton Mayor Omar Bradley designated April 7 Eazy-E Day in Compton. He's honored today for "making Compton famous, not just in California but all over the world."

Eazy described himself as a "brother who'll smother your mother or tell your sister that I love her."

There was nothing shy about Eazy, a former member of the Kelly Park Compton Crips. His adolescent whine style of rapping distinguished him from his counterparts in the rap group N.W.A.

Together, N.W.A., which included Dr. Dre, MC Ren, the D.O.C., and a pre-"Are We There Yet?" Ice Cube, achieved double platinum success on their debut album, "Straight Outta Compton," released under Eazy's label Ruthless Records.

Released on Aug. 8, 1988, "Straight Outta Compton" is regarded in many circles as being the best rap album ever. Time magazine ranked it No. 33 on their list of the 100 Greatest Albums of All Time, saying "virtually all gangsta rap remains a response to or an elaboration of this one album. One of the most controversial albums ever released, but also one of the most influential."

The album "established gangsta rap - and, moreover, West Coast rap in general - as a commercial force, going platinum with no air play and no tours, and crossing over with shock-hungry white teenagers," according to Billboard.

What other rap album inspired a warning letter from the FBI?

Personally, no track is better or more definitive of the entire album than the title track "Straight Outta Compton." But many became N.W.A. fans because of the expletive-laden second track, "Fuck tha Police." The scene is a courtroom where N.W.A. is on trial against the police department.

Honestly, I won't describe the rest. Just find me, and I'll play you the song.

Dr. Dre remembers what inspired him and Eazy to record it.

"It was me and Eazy riding around," Dr. Dre recalls in a Mar. 10, 2007, interview with World Entertainment News Network. "He had this paintball gun, and he was shooting people at bus stops. The cops caught us and we were face down on the freeway with guns pointed at us."

"We thought it was bullshit, so we went to the studio and created the song."

Say what you will about irreverence to authority, but the song became an instant gangsta rap anthem. And although most of the content of "Straight Outta Compton" describes the gangsta scene in Compton, the album saw influences and samples ranging from James Brown, Kool and the Gang, Beastie Boys, Sly and the Family Stone and, the most perplexing, The Steve Miller Band.

Eazy became recognized as the "godfather of Gangsta." Without Eazy-E, Lil' Wayne wouldn't be making it rain, Soulja Boy wouldn't be cranking it and no one would've ever heard of Lil' Boosie.

For anyone unfamiliar with Lil' Boosie, go to YouTube.com and search "Da Ratchet."



Eazy-E was admitted to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles in March 1995 with what he thought was acute bronchitis. Numerous tests revealed that Eazy was suffering from the late stages of AIDS.

Back then in Compton, it was widely believed that no one could get AIDS without being gay. Eazy's case led many to worry about contracting the disease themselves. It led Eazy, with the help of Dr. Dre and Ice Cube, to draft a message to the community.

"There were great rewards for me personally like fancy cars, gorgeous women and good living," Eazy said. "I'm not religious, but wrong or right, that's me. I'm not saying this because I'm looking for a soft cushion wherever I'm heading, I just feel that I've got thousands and thousands of young fans that have to learn about what's real when it comes to AIDS.

"Like something good that will reach out to all my homeboys and their kin because I want to save their asses before it's too late. I'm not looking to blame anyone except myself ... It affects everyone."

Eazy-E died March 26, 1995, 10 days after being admitted.

Whether people remember his legacy as one mired by controversy or for his later anti-gang efforts, Eazy-E was an inspiration to a legion of millions. He will always be remembered for his chillingly high-pitched delivery and, more somberly, for the way he left this world.

Love him or hate him - Eazy-E commands respect. After all, he said it himself: "Give a little gust of wind and I'm jettin'. But leave a memory no one'll be forgettin'."

"Word to the motherfucker. Straight outta Compton."


Originally published in The Daily Reveille...

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Local rapper Lil' Wayne hops on board the 4:20 to Yuma

Nothing says hip-hop these days quite like an arrest.

This fate has unfortunately descended, once again, on one of New Orleans's own. Cash Money Records rapper and pride of the Big Easy Lil' Wayne was arrested this past Wednesday on three felony drug charges at a checkpoint near Yuma in southwestern Arizona.

The Border Patrol's version of Lassie decided to alert DEA agents to the presence of illegal drugs on his tour bus, according to the Associated Press. A search of the bus found almost four ounces of marijuana, a little over an ounce of cocaine, 41 grams of ecstasy and miscellaneous drug paraphernalia. Lil' Wayne - whose full name is Dwayne Michael Carter Jr. - was also the owner of a registered .40-caliber pistol found on the bus; Wayne has a concealed weapons permit in Florida.

I've always hated Lassie.

Don't think the above statement is meant as anti-dog - if I get covered in red paint because of some nutjob from PETA, I'll be anti-people for a while.

But why, in the name of reality, was Lil' Wayne's bus searched? What else did you expect?

Lil' Wayne isn't actively hurting anybody. He will never, ever show up on Dateline's "To Catch a Predator," Chris Hansen's name be praised. He'll never be found guilty of breaking international law, and no one will even remember this story six months from now.

He has, however, registered no level of shock on my face. He's only been rapping about smoking, snorting and pill-popping for the last nine years. This also isn't the first time Weezy has been stopped by the long arm of the law.

He was arrested in August 2006 in Georgia and charged with possession of marijuana and more than 100 Xanax and hydrocodone pills, preceding an arrest in Boise, Idaho, on a felony fugitive charge. Equating Wayne to Richard Kimball was only possible because of a paperwork error, as Wayne was told by his former lawyer the charges had been dropped.

This past July, he was also arrested on gun-possession charges in New York just after his Big Apple debut at the Beacon Theatre. Wayne was arrested after police saw him smoking weed with another man, and police found the gun on his person. This wasn't an hour after Murder Inc. rapper Ja Rule was arrested on a similar charge. Both weapons were .40-caliber pistols.

The relevance of this story lies in America's long-standing tradition of seeking to place all reason for the War on Drugs solely on minorities.

Most current illicit drug users are white, according to a 1998 National Household Survey on Drug Abuse. There were an estimated 9.9 million whites (72 percent of all users), 2.0 million blacks (15 percent), and 1.4 million Hispanics (10 percent) who were illicit drug users in 1998. And yet, blacks constitute 36.8 percent of those arrested for drug violations, over 42 percent of those in federal prisons for drug violations. African-Americans comprise almost 58 percent of those in state prisons for drug felonies; Hispanics account for 20.7 percent.

The JFA Institute, a Washington, DC criminal justice think tank, released a study this past November that found - according to the US Department of Justice - approximately 30 to 40 percent of all current prison admissions involve crimes that have no direct or obvious victim other than the perpetrator. The report goes on to conclude that violence surrounding drug trafficking in the United States is largely absent in Western European countries that have liberalized their drug possession policies.

For those of you worried about your money this tax season, the decriminalization of illicit drugs coupled with enacting modest reforms in sentencing and parole, as speculated in the report, would save taxpayers an estimated $20 billion per year by reducing the prison population from 1.5 million to below 700,000.

Do you begin to notice a theme building here?

Now, don't confuse these statistics as the end-all, be-all proof that drugs are good. Do not draw this conclusion. I'm merely pointing out, with the help of statistics gathered by my own government, the uselessness of spending time prying into nonviolent citizens' respective businesses.

At the same time, as I type this, I find myself listening to Eminem's "The Marshall Mathers LP," as Slim Shady walks into his agent's office. The agent heatedly offers a comparison between Eminem and Dr. Dre, yelling: "Do you know why Dre's records were so successful? He's rapping about big-screen TV's, blunts, 40's and bitches."

In conclusion, someone should set Lassie free. Lil' Wayne isn't a violent human being - though, being from New Orleans he has every right to be - but getting busted on victimless drug charges shouldn't surprise anyone considering every platinum-certified reason to search Lil' Wayne has given to the masses.

And by the way, he's still the best rapper alive.

Originally published in The Daily Reveille...

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BET's new Read a Book campaign causes controversy

The staple of Black Entertainment Television for the past 15 years has been music videos preaching violence, female degradation and buying tricked-out Impalas sitting on spinning 24-inch rims. But an animated short called "Read a Book" is being ridiculously singled out as vulgar, ignorant and offensive.

The cartoon, set to a hip-hop remix of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony and created by Bomani "D'Mite" Armah and Tyree Dillihay, is a parody of BET's long-standing bread and butter of video girls in booty pants (spelling B-O-O-K across the behind), thugs with assault weapons (shooting copies of Zora Neale Hurston at unsuspecting foes) and profane lyrics, imploring people to "read a book, read a book, read a muh'fuckin book." Armah and Dillihay contend that the cartoon is pure parody in principle, but not everyone sees it that way.

Most notable among the dissenters is the Rev. Jesse Jackson, who invited Armah to speak on his radio show, "Keep Hope Alive." The reverend rails against Armah, comparing the music video to the racist rants of Michael Richards and Don Imus. But what he fails to realize, is the condition with which this video was made. Richards and Imus spoke in distaste, while Armah's creation comically satirizes the sad state of rap music and exists as a launching pad for debate and discussion into our media and our parenting skills.

Jackson has done many important and incredible things on behalf of black people everywhere, but as Token astutely observed on "South Park," "Jesse Jackson is not the emperor of black people."

Dissent for this cartoon comes with the stench of "protecting our children" rhetoric. In an interview with CNN's Tony Harris, or as I like to call him, "Black Bill O'Reilly," Armah and Dillihay detect the false juxtaposition of "Read a Book" with traditional children's programming like "Schoolhouse Rock" and "The Electric Company." They argue their video parallels other music videos like "Ay Bay Bay" and "Bartender." According to Denys Cowan, BET's Senior Vice President of Animation, "The video was not part of any literacy campaign or "Schoolhouse Rock" alternative, but was intended for BET's demographic of 18-34 year olds."

But there is a fine line between genuine parody and sending a message, and anyone arguing this video is the sole purpose of controversy on BET is a hypocrite. On a network that regularly features rappers, saying "pour [shots] on the models, shut up bitch swallow. If you can't swallow, shut up bitch gargle," how is a cartoon encouraging good hygiene and drinking water at such a source of tension?

According to The New York Times, the video seems to flaunt every negative stereotype in the black community. Kam Williams of Newsblaze.com goes a step further, arguing the video flaunts women as a source of lust for impressionable young boys. She goes on to say that many black entertainers "declared war" on the dignity of the black female, rather than take a stand against grave injustices. She cited D.L. Hughley's response to Imus on "The Tonight Show," saying, "There were some nappy-headed women on that team. You know it's true. They were some of the ugliest women I've seen in my whole life."

This double standard will continue to exist for some time. People get so worried about what they say, and in an increasingly globalized world where one's speeches and quotes can be uploaded online mere minutes after they are said, we are moving closer and closer to a massive, user-controlled big brother society. Just because the NAACP held a public burial for the N-word in the wake of the Imus scandal, it doesn't mean rappers and racists alike won't continue to use the word. Freedom of speech comes with an implied responsibility, and it's up to us to ensure that what we say does not come off a certain way.

There is nothing wrong with words; rather, the problem exists with the context in which we use them. In this day and age, racially motivated humor, just as any other humor, is becoming more risqué and more sensitive. We need thicker skin, but we also need to be responsible for the words that we use. I will not begin to assign a list of words for each race and gender based on how each demographic may feel about a certain word. My job is to spread my opinion to a college campus, and I believe anyone should say anything they want because they know better if they say otherwise. This country is long overdue for a conscientious (and real) dialogue on protecting our children, being smart when we speak and giving arguments based on logic and common sense.

The best way to protect our children is simple. Turn off the TV, disconnect the cable and tell your kids to "read a muh'fuckin' book." They might actually learn something.

Originally published in The Daily Reveille...

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Bill O'Reilly and music videos

Every so often, when I'm flipping through channels, some headline catches my eye when I skip past Fox News, inevitably flipping back to see what the hell these assholes are talking about now. I flip back, missing the end of an interview, having to suffer through Sean Hannity thanking Ann Coulter for being on the program. I'm glad I missed what she said, but I start thinking to myself about these 24-hour news networks. Does anyone else realize that this is a pointless waste of time? That's when I started thinking about the nature of our news. It seems that news really doesn't matter, but exists as a platform for some giant Irish man to yell at people as to why they're wrong. That's the nature of news today. There's no more discourse, no more conversation, no more intelligent debate. Fox News is "fair and balanced?" That's just like saying the Pope is Jewish. It's just not true.

But this phenomenon didn't start with news. It started with a song written 28 years ago by Trevor Horn, Courtney Courson, Geoffrey Downes, and Bruce Woolley. They were better known as The Buggles. "I heard you on the wireless back in Fifty Two. Lying awake intent at tuning in on you. If I was young, it didn't stop you coming through. Oh Oh." We know this song better as "Video Killed The Radio Star," but it might as well be the anthem for news as well as MTV. When this video premiered as MTV commenced on August 1, 1981, no one foresaw the death of music as we know it. For the most part, music is dead. There are songs produced these days that transcend how we listen and experience music, but the love of greed and money that we have today has left its putrid stench on what was once a wonderful experience. When we listen to music, we get a vision. That vision can transport us to a new dimension of life; it reminds us of times spent in the past, whether in a kitchen or a foreign country ("Don't Speak" by No Doubt sends me straight back to France), and music will continue to exist in this capacity.

Just like the newspaper. When we read articles, it forces our mind to receive new information that is forced to react to our own emotions and feelings. Granted, the news has gotten worse and worse in the last six years, but we can still formulate an opinion based on articles that we read. Whether positive or negative, we can think about it. Fox News tells you how to think. They will appraise you if you're "right" (like Ann Coulter, who said that we must invade foreign countries, kill their leaders, and convert them to Christianity), and they will yell at you until red in the face if you're "wrong" (like Jeremy Glick, the son of a Port Authority worker slain on 9/11, who was yelled at by Bill O'Reilly, told to shut up, then had his mic cut and was thrown out of the studio. You can see it for yourself on YouTube.) They constantly plant a vision into the minds of mostly uneducated America about what is right and what is wrong. Anyone reading this who agrees with Fox News, let me ask you a question: Do you like being treated like a child, or do you like to make up your own mind? Read the paper, form an opinion, think for yourself.

Peace.

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