June 23, 2008

The Nightmare and The Dream: Reviews and Endorsements

 

 To buy on Amazon.com click here

Book Review by Dan Tres Omi

In the last several years, there have been quite a few healthy tomes written about hip hop culture. Unfortunately, a large portion of that bunch tends to place hip hop culture outside of Black culture. Much of what is written about hip hop culture seems to remove it from the context of Black history particularly. Of course they point out how hip hop is a Black and Latino manifestation of an oppressed creativity but they leave it at that. There is no connection made to the Black Arts movement or the Black Freedom Rights struggle of the fifties, sixties, and the seventies. Dax Devlon Ross, a prolific and independent writer, brings it all home in The Nightmare and the Dream.

In one book, Ross summarizes points made in Harold Cruse’s classic The Crisis of the Negro Intellectual, W.E.B. DuBois’ Souls of Black Folk, and Dean E. Robinson’s Black Nationalism in American Politics. What makes The Nightmare… stand out is how Ross connects the dots to Black Nationalism and hip hop culture. Using the Hegelian dialectic, Ross uses Nas and Jay Z as his subjects when discussing the internal conflict in Black America between Black Nationalism and assimilation. Like Robinson, Ross does a careful deconstruction of Black leadership in the United States. He does a wonderful job of explaining DuBois’ double consciousness, but Ross does not stop there.
Keep reading →

June 23, 2008

The Nightmare and The Dream: Reviews and Endorsements

 

To buy on Amazon click here

The Nightmare and the Dream charts new ground in analyzing the impact of hip-hop on African-American political culture.  By going beyond a mere inquiry into the dynamics of hip-hop in the post-Civil Right era-a limiting perspective that a majority of contemporary hip-hop works fall prey to-Ross goes back in time to the nineteenth-century and locates a recurring phenomenon that has continued into the twenty-first century.  The Dyad Syndrome of dual conflicting political leaders has plagued black communities from the era of Frederick Douglass and Martin Delany to the life and times of W.E.B. Du Bois and Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X, and Jesse Jackson and Louis Farrakhan.  According to Ross, this syndrome haunts the Weltgeist, or world-spirit, of hip-hop as well, whether we talk of the tensions between Notorious BIG and Tupac Shakur, East Coast and West Coast rappers, or artists such as Lil’ Kim and Foxy Brown.  Ross provides a moving narrative that weaves in and out of well-known black figures in addition to musicians and politicians whose lives have been disavowed in historical memory.  Select figures represent archetypes of a “Dream” vision full of the Horatio Alger story in blackface, while others embrace a nihilistic conception of the “Nightmare” reflecting the realities of rampant injustices facing black agents since the founding of the American republic.  So where do we go from here?  With Du Bois’s ideas of double-consciousness and second sight serving a mediating role, Ross details the tensions and ultimate public reconciliation between Jay-Z and Nas as a prime example of how hip-hop, like black politics, can progress forward positively, in solidarity, despite the obstacles.  Ross’s final tale is not a nihilistic one such as that of the mythical Sisyphus, bound forever to repeatedly push rocks up a hill only eventually to fall down.  The Nightmare and the Dream uniquely spells out a radical existential injunction made famous recently by Toni Morrison, Cornel West, and Barack Obama: hope can result after we come to terms with the dialectics of partisan conflict.  Dax-Devlon Ross’s brilliant textual achievement is a must read for anyone concerned with the future of hip-hop, African-Americans, and new directions in late modern America as a whole.”

 -Neil Roberts, Williams College

 Co-Editor of the CAS Working Papers Series in Africana Studies

May 31, 2008

The Sean Bell Verdict

 

 

The Sean Bell Verdict:

The Dangers of Comparing Apples and Oranges

 

The first thought that came to my mind when I heard about the Sean Bell shooting back in November of 2006 was, not again. My second thought, there must be more to the story. No way a mere seven years after the 41 shots aimed and fired at Amadou Diallo provoked citywide uproar were 50 bullets (paid for, once again, with taxpayer money) going to be aimed and fired into the body of another innocent black man. Not in the new and improved, post-Guiliani New York. The previous mayor was, after all, the purported embodiment of a kind of smug indifference to black and brown life that, for all intents and purposes, created a climate in which one could say it was “open season” on black and brown males with a straight face. Comfortable with my initial impulses, I deliberately, and perhaps willfully, disregarded any news about the trial, including the ruling and the ensuing protests.

 

Why, especially since I am a black man who works and lives in New York City with youth of color, cares deeply enough about social justice to teach and write about it, has himself had his share of run-ins with law enforcement, and is still fairly young, was I not among the loudest voices in support of justice for Sean Bell? The answer lies in the question itself. It is precisely because of all the things that I am, do, believe and have been through, that I have, up to now, recused myself from commenting on or writing about the case. 

 

Albert Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. For me, participating in an uproar over Sean Bell with the expectation that a collective cry of outrage would register in the halls of justice was a doomed enterprise. But it was the automatic comparison people made (and continue to make) between Bell and Diallo that really irritated me. It was, in my opinion, like setting a dinner table when you know good and well that the cupboards are bare.

 

Sean Bell was not Amadou Diallo. He was not reaching for his wallet on an otherwise empty, unassuming street when he was sprayed with bullets. He was leaving one of the seediest strip clubs in New York City at 4 o’clock in the morning. Is that a crime? No. Is it a significant detail that should be taken into consideration? Absolutely. Not because it suggests Bell or his entourage had a proclivity for crime but because the club itself was a known criminal hang out. Is it sad that this was the night before Bell’s marriage? Yes. Is it relevant to whether the offending officers were guilty or not? No.

 

The danger in comparing Bell to Diallo is (at least) six fold. First, it discourages and frustrates any meaningful and constructive dialogue about the facts of the night of the shooting, and how the law was applied to those facts to reach this particular decision. Second, it conflates completely distinct situations into a one-size-fits-all “fate of the black male” narrative, in turn perpetuating dangerous myths about the value of black life. Third, it reinforces a victim mentality among black people. Fourth, it reinforces unwarranted feelings of shame and guilt among whites. Fifth, it abstracts the “police” into an amorphous body of untrustworthy hyper-violent thugs out to get people of color. Finally, it alienates anyone, like myself, who has an opinion that deviates from the norm.  

 

 

•1.      Encouraging meaningful and constructive dialogue about the law and its application.

 

Under our rule of law, the prosecution must prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt. “Beyond a reasonable doubt” means that a “reasonable” person would be convinced based on evidence that the accused is guilty. It is not absolute certainty but it is also not mere uncertainty. This burden of proof exists to protect both jurors and the accused. Is it foolproof? No. Is it a tremendous advancement over trial by fire or by combat? Without a doubt.  In the Bell case, the prosecution’s job was to prove that a “reasonable” police officer in a similar situation would not have opened fire on Bell’s car. The presumption, therefore, is that the cops were justified (re: innocent until proven guilty). In the judge’s opinion, the prosecution failed to prove that the officers were not unjustified. (This is not the same thing as saying the cops were justified.) The judge came to this conclusion based on what he called “significant inconsistencies” in the testimony of key prosecution witnesses. Chief among the factors Judge Arthur Cooperman listed as influencing his decision were:

 

  • 1. Prior inconsistent statements by witnesses
  • 2. Inconsistencies in testimony among prosecution witnesses
  • 3. Criminal Convictions
  • 4. Demeanor on the witness stand of witnesses
  • 5. Motive witnesses may have had to lie and the effect on truthfulness. (key witnesses had already filed a civil suit against the NYPD for $50,000,000 and were receiving payments from Al Sharpton).

 

Here is where we as a community could use the trial as a teaching tool: Without sugar-coating it, and taking into consideration the judicial system’s record of unequal treatment toward blacks and other people of color, Sean Bell’s friends blew the trial. Leaving aside the motive key witnesses may have had for the moment, the conflicting stories some offered, the criminal records others carried, and the manner in which certain key witnesses conducted themselves on the witness stand all speak directly to the lack of respect, lack of honesty and contempt for authority we as a community are trying to address day in and day out. In a perfect world, maybe prior criminal records would not matter; in our flawed world they do. In a perfect world, maybe a witness’s “demeanor” should not taint the way a judge or jury perceives their testimony; in our prejudiced world, it does. On the other hand, in a perfect world I hope that consistency of testimony always counts. As for the witnesses who filed a $50,000,000 civil law suit several months before the criminal trial even began, I can only scratch my head and wonder who was advising them.

 

            Race and culture impact our judicial system. Anyone who denies as much at this stage of the game probably isn’t worth trying to convince otherwise. However, we do a disservice to the next generation when we tell them the justice system failed Sean Bell because he was black without talking about the company he kept. It doesn’t do any good to preach about the value of respect and honesty when we ignore the role those character traits (or their shortage) played in the outcome of the trial. We need to tell our students that the company Sean Bell chose to keep brought him down in the end. They didn’t pull the trigger and I have no doubt that they loved him, but when they could have risen to his aide in a court of law, their past baggage weighed them down. By addressing all of these issues we not only talk about personal responsibility and integrity, but about the way the law works.

 

•2.      Resisting the Myth of the Meaninglessness of Black Male Lives

 

The Diallo-Bell association, though attractive and momentum building, makes it seem as though black men are just being randomly gunned down in New York City. Speaking as a black man who has had his share of police firearms pointed his way in his 33 years, I steadfastly repudiate this gloomy fate. I refuse to accept premature death as a natural life process. I reject those who say such things like, “Black male lives are meaningless in America.” These false notions only perpetuate a sickness I see in too many young black men (and women) on a daily basis. That their lives are expendable; that they aren’t going to live long anyway; that death (along with prison, poverty, disease and job discrimination) is lurking around the corner. This kind of thinking only feeds a pessimistic world view that we as a community are fighting to put to rest.  It also removes any and all responsibility young people have in their encounters with police. They have choices. They always have choices. But when we tell them that they’re no better than target practice for police pistols, we’re in effect telling them that they have no control, no choice. We can teach them to kill cops with kindness whenever their paths cross; to be polite; to even smile-whatever it takes to allow them feel like they are in control. Whatever it takes to live. 

 

3. Resisting the Black Victimhood Trap

 

There is also a deeper, broader and more historically rooted problem with turning Sean Bell into another martyr: it encourages black people to fall back into a mode of reactionary protest that is no longer an effective tool for social engagement or change. In this day and age the civil rights style protest – the march, the sit-in, the boycott, the picket – tends to reinforce the feelings of victimization that prompted the protest in the first place. More often than not, the modern protest lacks a clear objective and can simply be ignored by the media (MLK’s nonviolence was always aimed at gaining global sympathy via the media) without consequence. At best it allows people to grieve publicly, which is important. At worst, though, it allows people to mistake “symbolic” action (marching for a couple of hours, boycotting for a day) for “real” action that requires prolonged commitment to social justice or, worse, to wind up feeling as though social activism is a waste of time when nothing changes after the protest ends. A constructive solution means coming up with a goal-oriented educational and/or advocacy campaign, organizing it and implementing it, which, to be sure, I’ve seen in pockets. 

 

4. Resisting the White Savior/Victimhood Trap

 

Black people weren’t the only victims of the Bell ruling. White people who care deeply and passionately about social justice were placed in a winless situation as well. In a piece posted on the Huffington Post, a well-intentioned college professor discussed the verdict in her class. After listening to her students (some of whom had never even heard of Sean Bell) discuss the case, she closed the class with the following,   

 

I decided to… test for racism in the Sean Bell case. “Ok, class,” I said, “I have a question for you: would the Bell verdict have come down the same way if the victim of the shooting had been a 23-year old white man?”

The chorus swelled up. “Hell no,” some of them yelled.

And then, Nadine, who today was wearing her hair neatly corn rowed, made the final statement.

“If it had been a white man, the cops wouldn’t have gone after him in the first place,” she said, “and then none of this ever would have happened.”

Amen, Nadine.

Amen.

Huh?! What?! Never in the piece does the professor mention to her class that two of the cops were black or that there is such thing as a reasonable doubt standard or burden of proof or that the Bell case was rife with faulty witnesses. Never. What she does mention, at the very beginning no less, is the Amadou Diallo case. This is exactly the kind of over-simplified politically correct conversation passing for “real talk” that keeps us from confronting race and justice in a way that works towards solutions. This professor reiterates a few limp platitudes and a reputable media outlet passes it off as meaningful commentary. It’s just not as simple as black and white. As well-meaning as the professor was, she only succeeded in reinforcing two dangerous ideas to her class (which was half white and half black). One, white life is more valuable than black life. Two, the average white American has some special purchase to power that black people don’t have and can therefore “save” black Americans by being less racist. Ultimately, it is as important for white people not to buy into the hype of their existential importance as it is for black people not to buy into the hype of their existential insignificance.

White Americans who’ve been raised in the post-civil rights era in particular have learned to walk a fine line when it comes to talking about issues involving race. Some choose to avoid race issues altogether. Some, rather than risk appearing racist in public, quietly take their cues from acknowledged black media personalities like Shelby Steele and John McWorther. Others overcompensate by taking “anti-racism” to such an extreme that black people become either blameless victims or unimpeachable race saviors. None of these approaches removes the stain of white victimhood (i.e. a sense of powerlessness, due to our society’s racist past and politically correct present, with regard to open and candid discussions about prejudice).

5. Mending the Rift between Black and Brown Males and Cops

By linking Sean Bell with Diallo (and others), we only lend credence to the perception – declarations of all officers not being crooked notwithstanding – that the police are indeed out to get young black men. Without arguing whether this is in fact the case, it without questions exacerbates the tensions between young black men and the police by fueling the distrust and animosity within both groups. There is a sense among too many young black men that there is something courageous and justified about standing up to the cops. Courageous is standing up for one’s rights, not simply bucking authority. There is a difference between the two. It’s imperative that we take the time to teach our students the difference. It’s not enough anymore to tell them they have rights or to even hand them a booklet. We need to begin simulating actual police encounters in school. This way if and when one does occur, our students (and the bystanders who often provoke and stoke the unrest) have the tools to diffuse rather than escalate the situation.

6. Inviting Dissenting Opinions

I know I’m not the only one out here who has felt like his opinion had no place in the “Justice for Bell” discussion. Out of respect for the family and the freshness of the wound, I kept my opinions close. I can no longer do that in good faith. There is an opportunity here to move the conversation in a different direction, to educate and challenge, but it won’t get there on its own. We have to be willing to take it there. We can say we invite all opinions to the table, but as long as people don’t feel those opinions will be supported rest assured they won’t be uttered publicly.

In the coming years the Bell trial will undoubtedly become a widely studied case in law schools. They’ll examine the testimony and the applicable law. They’ll take the judge’s ruling apart and put it back together again. Law journals will publish articles about the case. It will be cited in cases yet to come. Middle and high schools have the same opportunity to use the Sean Bell verdict and the passions it incited to challenge students, families and  professionals who work with them to move beyond black and white clichés while it is still fresh on our minds. Otherwise, the Sean Bell shooting will calcify into yet another in a series of black male tragedies that are only thawed to remind us of how far we haven’t come. 

                                               

August 27, 2007

All Revolutionaries Ain’t Built the Same

Black Radical:

The Education of an American Revolutionary, 1946-1968

Author: Nelson Peery

Publisher: The New Press, 2007

 

 

 

Black Radical: The Education of an American Revolutionary follows author Nelson Peery’s journey as a political revolutionary in the post-World War II era. The memoir is the sequel to Peery’s award-winning memoir Black Fire, which, among other things, told the story of Peery’s experiences during the Depression and his political awakening as a soldier in the South Pacific. First off, it was a pleasure to read something so earnest, so forthright and unpretentious. If one thing shines through in Peery’s writing  it is his style of presentation. Irrespective of his commitment to revolution, Peery’s writing comes across as belonging to someone who genuinely devoted his life to a higher cause—in this case, serving humanity.

 

One has to appreciate the book’s sense of balance, which, again, says something about the writer. Peery doesn’t just say he is dedicated to the working class or even live his life among the working class — though he had opportunities to live otherwise — he writes his story from the perspective of a common individual (AKA proletariat). It would have been easy for Peery to have written solely about the Communist Party or about the various social movements of the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s. He could have written heroically about himself, inserted himself into the sweep of history; instead he resists the compulsion to self-aggrandize in favor of the simple, quite often unromantic reality of fighting for change. Revolution, the one Peery lived through between 1946 and 1968 — the period the book covers — involves all of the peculiarities and particulars of everyday life: marriages, divorces, childbirths, deaths, prosperity, action, inaction, depressions. To be a revolutionary, according to Peery , is to be a human being willing to hold steadfast to his/her faith in peace and plenty for all, not just a few. In Peery’s world being a revolutionary requires nothing special. Anyone willing to acknowledge the shortcomings of the present — their own included — and continue fighing for a better world anyway (which we all do!) has the revolutionary spirit already in them.

As history, Black Radical offers a ’People’s History of the Cold War and the Black Revolution.’ The rise of McCarthyism, the rumblings of the civil rights movement, and the apogee of the Watts Rebellion are all told through the humble eyes of a communist who made his living laying brick. This is not a story written from above the fray or in the warm mist of victory. This is a clear-eyed odyssey through the “Black Bottoms” of mid-century Cleveland, Detroit, New York, Minneapolis, and Los Angeles. Through it all we see Peery’s family torn apart, the wilting of his first love, the disintegration of his first marriage, the disappearance of comrades, the painful defection of others and the countless untold casualties of the repressive Red Scare regime. We see Peery bumping against the currents of the historical moment not only as a working person, intellectual and black man but as a serious radical, all of which, consequently, placed him at odds in practically every social setting he found himself in. In Black Radical the whole tangled mess of this nation’s troubled growth spurt from the precipice of fascism to the edge of revolution unravels against a single, simple man’s life, and it is better for it.

 

 

As a meditation on life, BR offers us all important lessons about what it meant to be a revolutionary. It meant keeping your mouth shut even when you’ve been belittled by a condescending ranking white comrade or a bigotted southern cop, getting on a bus to go underground at a moment’s notice, living long periods without a name or a connection to the world you loved, being tracked and trailed by the FBI and its army of informants. We often picture the revolutionary in a romantic light. Doing so feeds our need to believe life can be lived on a grander scale, even if that life is brief and fraught with pain. Revolution, though, is organizing people, educating people, creating consensus among people. It is retreating when your heart longs for a fight, pausing at the critical juncture where the personal risks clouding the political. Revolutionaries bide their time the same way prisoners learn to. They discipline themselves. They don’t waste time pitying themselves. They look forward even when the weight of the past is bearing down on them. In many respects revolutionaries are fanatics and zealots. They must be. History depends on their madness to propell us all forward.

 

At the same time theirs is also, quite clearly, a life worth living; for the revolutionary ideal, the vision of a future free of exploitation, feeds the revolutionary’s spirit  with something that capitalism’s promise of prosperity simply can not. Peery’s life is instructive here. By choosing to be a part of the events of his day — to be accountable for his time here — his life flowed in the direction of the momentous. Leadbelly, Paul Robeson, Malcolm X — these are just a few of the well-known names that pass through the pages of Black Radical. But while Peery acknowledges these heroes respectfully, he does not indulge in sychopantism in order to make himself appear more important by association. He would rather tell us about the nameless and faceless, the few who hold up the wall of resistance while the rest of us wait for the ‘right’ time to join the revolution. In fact, though Peery dedicates this book his late wife, it could easily be read as a memento to a generation of unsung heroes who kept the beat of resistance alive when its pulse teeterd on the brink of flatlining.

 

As literature, BR picks up where Ralph Ellison’s hero in Invisible Man leaves off. The parallels between Invisible and Peery should not be overlooked by any serious reader. Both stories concern thoughtful and articulate young black men from the South who are attracted to the Communist Party. Both stories culminate in a riot. But rather than give up on both his people and the class struggle the moment he feels betrayed by both, Peery chooses to fight on, and to work to build the party and the movement that he wants. Whereas Invisible virtually accepts his disinherited status, Peery refuses anyone else’s claim of right to struggle for human freedom. BR’s response to IM is that communism isn’t the problem. The people who become communists — middle-class whites who choose to fight alongside blacks who have no choice but to fight, for example – are the problem. As an historical footnote, it is important to remember that Invisible Man won the National Book Award at the height of the anti-communist mania. Despite Ellison’s professed allegiance to art above all else (and the book’s literary brilliance), we can not overlook IM’s politics if we hope to understand its critical success. 

 

As a writer, Peery is more than capable. He does not try to dazzle us with his style. His prose is fluid. His stories at once effectively capture his inner emotion and the spirit of the age. When he dons his polemicist cap it is always within the context of the story itself, always in stride.  Peery’s true gift as a writer is to make the complex concrete. He brilliantly bridges the gap between the political theorist and the blue-collar worker as only someone who has lived in both worlds can. Like any skilled craftsman he focuses on the doing the work correctly so that it serves its purpose. All of the bells and whistles that too often mar otherwise important books are, for the most part, left in the bag. As refreshingly straight forward as BR’s style is, however, it is also a luxury: Nelson Peery has a story to tell. He does not have to unearth it or manufacture it or invest it with filler (gatuitous sex scenes, stereotypical signifyin’ scenes, romanticized standing up to the Man scenes) to make up for the life he didn’t lead but would like to tell others about nonetheless.  Unlike many, too many, Nelson Peery actually has lived a life worth writing about.

 

HNIC

August 21, 2007

Really Cool Obama Site

I was up late restless and unable to sleep when I stumbled on this really cool, really edgy site created by an artist by the name of CRO. It’s called Go Tell Mama I’m For Obama. The artist is taking a unique look at the campaign and using his talent to raise awareness about a candidate he believes in. Below is just one of the many posters he creates and distributes himself. Check it out!

HNIC

August 20, 2007

The Best of Intentions

        The Best of Intentions

        A Novel by Dax-Devlon Ross

       Following his painful divorce, Gus Steadman embarks on a cross-country road trip that ultimately lands him in his hometown after a dozen years of self-imposed exile. A perpetual dilettante infected with a near-debilitating nostalgia for his fading youth, 30-year-old Gus is finally ready to get his life in gear and live in the moment when he discovers that his prep school pal is running for mayor against a twenty-year incumbent and former civil rights activist. Hoping to kick-start his life he joins the campaign only to find himself falling deeper and deeper into the absurd, underhanded world of urban politics. In the end, and after all sorts of unexpected doors have opened along the way, it’s up to him to choose where his loyalties lie and his principles stand. The Best of Intentions is the timeless story of the soul searcher striving to reconcile past with present, theory with practice, idealism with pragmatism. It interrogates the promises of opportunity and unmasks the perils of upward mobility; pits our undying hunger for spiritual connectedness against our insatiable thirst for worldly validation. Most of all, it explores the individual’s fight to live of integrity in a confusing world devoid of easy answers.

If you’ve enjoyed anything from the HNIC Report, then you will certainly appreciate this book. Moreover, your support is integral to my ability to keep producing the quality work you’ve come to expect from this blog.

Click here to buy

August 20, 2007

Underdog’s Arise

On Friday, August 17, we celebrated the release of The Underdog’s Manifesto, one of Outside the Box Publishing’s most recent publications at Joe’s Pub. The author, Creature, performed an upbeat and on-point set, and fellow Underdog Preachermann brought his Revival out for an eight-piece explosive show. Co-author Dax-Devlon Ross emceed the show. The book has been getting some great reviews and accolades from press and those that have read. As for the show, it was of the high caliber we’ve grown to expect of these amazing musicians. I was excited and honored to be stage side to capture the moments on film and video. – DB

For more information on the book, click here

Creature
Creature

Preachermann
Preachermann

Dax-Devlon Ross
Dax-Devlon Ross

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He5TzfMnhPM
Preachermann & The Revival: Whipping Post

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyUdix7EDuY
Preachermann & The Revival: Preachermann

August 13, 2007

I Don’t Know What You Mean: A Review

Front Cover
By Michael Eric Dyson
Intro by Jay-Z/Outro by Nas
Published 2007
Basic Books
Music/Songbooks
170 pages

 

Note to Readers: I apologize for my absence. I’ve been knee deep in my next book and all of my energy has been going there. I want to have a draft completed by December so I’m going to be a little out of it from time to time. But I promise, promise, to update the blog as much as I can. Remember, it’s quality over quantity!

 

HNIC

 

Those of you who’ve read excerpts from my book-in-progress, A History of Conflict, already know how interested I am in Nas and Jay-Z. So when I was doing some research a few weeks ago and stumbled across a new book by Michael Eric Dyson featuring an “intro” by Jay-Z and an “outro” by Nas, there was no question that I had to have it. Know What I Mean? Reflections on Hip Hop is the prolific Dr. Dyson’s latest contribution to the continuing conversation about the music, the money, the misogyny and misunderstanding that most people have about all of the above.

Keep reading →

July 25, 2007

Jesse, Obama and the Politics of Race Part I

“So, who do you think’s going to get the nod?”

“I like Edwards but I don’t know if he can win it all. He’s missing something.”

“What about Hillary?”

“She rubs me the wrong the way. There’s something about her I just don’t like.” 

A week ago yesterday I overheard this conversation. It was between two middle-aged white men. The three of us were the only customers in a Manhattan coffee shop I sometimes frequent after work. Even though I was seated directly between them and they therefore had to talk over me, neither of them asked my opinion. Certainly I could’ve interjected, offered my two cents, but I didn’t.. Their frankness, their nonchalance, attracted me more than anything they actually said. I mean, how could these two seemingly intelligent men seriously engage in a conversation about the presidential election without even mentioning the man standing directly between Hillary Clinton and John Edwards? How could they so blatantly and unabashedly disregard a man who’s raised more money than both of these candidates? I was honestly fascinated. By simply not mentioning Barack Obama’s candidacy they indicated so much more about what still plagues our country than anything they could’ve actually uttered. Given the fact that, to date, Obama has raised more than $50 million dollars ($10 million more than Hillary and oodles more than any other candidate from either party) from more than 150,000 donors, and that he and Clinton are running neck and neck in Edwards’s home state of South Carolina, how on earth could these men honestly believe that Edwards has a better shot at winning – at this point at least – than Obama?  And yet they did. As casually as they’d overlooked me sitting between them, they were even more casual in their dismissal of Obama’s candidacy.

Keep reading →

July 17, 2007

Underdog Reviews!!!

Most of you who read this blog from time to time know that I’m the author of a few books, three of which have been indepdently published in recent months. Well, the reviews are starting to trickle in and they ain’t bad. Check ‘em out, and if you like what you read, don’t be afraid to support a brother.

 Peace!

HNIC (AKA DX AKA Devlonious AKA Dax)

 UNKUT.com

Hip-Hop Linguistics