• » Name: Meka Soul
• » Location: Los Angeles, CA
• » Member Since: 04/09/07
• » Bio: Providing clarity in hip-hop since 1981.
• » Contact Me:
• » Syndicate: RSS

• » Sometimes These Ni**as Need To Stay In Jail
• » Politricks As Usual
• » Adventures In Denver
• » Another Day, Another Rock The Bells
• » Why Rap Needs The Diplomats

	February 2008
S	M	T	W	T	F	S
					1	2
3	4	5	6	7	8	9
10	11	12	13	14	15	16
17	18	19	20	21	22	23
24	25	26	27	28	29
« Jan					Mar »

• » Gangstarr Girl
• » Dah Shyt
• » 2 Dope Boyz
• » Dallas Penn
• » Plastic Squirtguns

Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Black On Black: Why?

When I finally escaped the morally deficient labyrinth known as college almost four years ago I honestly believed I was fully ready for the so-called real world, as not only did I have experience in a field I enjoyed, I had a loving girlfriend who had stuck by my side for well over two years and that all-important piece of paper which signified that my six years [1] of bullshit jobs, tedious classes and janky financial aid practices that forced me at one point to literally give blood to pay off a speeding ticket were all worth it. I’d land a well-paying gig, settle down into a typical hubby-esque lifestyle with the wifey and maybe hump out a couple grandkids for my moms.

The problem with that neophyte train of thought is that I was never ready for that “real world” without the safety cocoon of campus life, parental support and all that other Hakuna Matata bullshit that enveloped me for those years. Soon enough I was back at my mom’s basement, lost my wiz and was reduced to pushing off 300 thread count sheets and a plethora of shit I couldn’t afford with my middling paychecks at Macy’s for eight bucks an hour.

The crazy thing about this is that I – perhaps due to a more militant lifestyle in college – felt that if I continued to believe in my convictions that my, errr, peers would eventually take me to that picket-fenced promised land, so once I landed a gig as a junior publicist I instantly thought that working with my dark-skinned brethren would be sweet. Unfortunately, after some eight months of shoddy pay and constant berating, I took the fuck off with nothing more than an increased cynical attitude towards life.

While those years are all but behind me that outlook still remains to this day. So I’m a little hard-pressed to support my own Diaspora-influenced peoples when so many allow themselves to be subjected to such wild bullshit.  Take for instance this new Flavor Flav “show” soon to debut. While usually I don’t care too much about this soon-to-be train wreck being “news-worthy” during the supposed  month-long dedication to all things porch monkey (Martin Luther King! Malcolm X! Bryant Gumbel!), without divulging too much information of how a portion of the script landed on my desk a week before I even knew what it was. Let’s just say it read as if it should have been a Robot Chicken sketch than an actual television show, and if I happen to run into one of the writers I’d gladly give the Holy Hand of Fire for thinking of that shit. A new-millennium Fresh Prince? More like a 2008 stale jester to me.

It still surprises me at times that humps will do whatever to garner a few slave owner trading cards in their bank account. While I do realize that at the end of the day it’s about how to keep the roof over our heads, it’s still amazing to see how so many peoples are really willing to sacrifice their self-respect.

But who am I to talk? I’m just a lonely blogger who still gets wasted like a college kid every now and then.

[1] I spent two years fucking off in junior college, or as I like to call it, the 13th grade. The stories I have... those were the days.

0 Comments             

50 cent • bet • common • crooked i • dope • ghostface • hip hop • jay z • jay-z • kanye west • lil wayne • little brother • mixtape • music • nas • nino bless • phonte • racism • rap • rock the bells • sha stimuli • stimuli • termanology • ugk • west coast