Elmo Kebour

Elmo Kebour

This is AMG.

The Hoodie is a Distraction:

Yes. You all look suspicious.

Why the national campaign to rehabilitate the hoodie? This Howard University video showing graduates and undergraduates wearing hoodies and rhetorically asking if they look suspicious is one of many countless “Trayvon Martin tribute” videos that are being peddled online showing young people embracing the hoodie culture (Apparently there is such a thing). Some of them reenacting the events of that evening, and some just attempting to be provocative with an already controversial issue. How does the slaying of a 17 year old kid devolve from a cry for justice to a nationwide campaign to rehabilitate the tarnished image of the ever so innocent hoodie? With each passing “tribute,” for lack of a better term, the deceased gets drowned in the emphasis put on threatening fashion statements.

After hearing Geraldo Rivera’s erroneous comment about the hoodie being “…as much responsible for Trayvon Martin‘s death as much as George Zimmerman was,” the public rewarded Fox News with their outrage and repositioned itself on what is being confused to be the much larger issue than the murder we began with.

Anybody who prides themselves as being critical thinkers would be seeking answers to any one of the many unanswered questions; Did Martin assault Zimmerman? Does the police video really show Zimmerman with any serious injuries on his head? Did Zimmerman mutter a racial slur under his breath? Is Florida’s “Stand Your Ground” law just, or is it being misused to excuse murder? Questions that are supposed to fuel the inner workings of an ongoing investigation, but that’s not the issue here anymore. The value of life has come secondary to what may be truly at stake for the youth; freedom of attire. 

This is by no means a counter argument to the premise that attire can raise suspicion, of course it can, but this is a minuscule aspect of a case that has now made its way into the history books. What may have begun as a symbol of support for those who believe justice has not been served, has digressed into a conversation headed farther and farther away from what is truly at stake; justice.

A young black man died, you would think a hoodie got shot.

These “shit people say” videos are becoming increasingly asinine, but this one here is a gem.

Planking (Mass Idiocy)

The other day I was on my way to the Starbucks near my apartment when a couple of girls stopped me and asked if I could take their picture. They handed me their camera and took a few steps back to pose. One of the girls was standing behind a Wal-Mart shopping cart and the other girl positioned herself face front across the cart with her head down while trying to remain as stiff as she could, as though she was stacked on top of the cart. In the pantheon of dumb poses, I didn’t think this was the most absurd but it was obviously asinine. Be that as it may, I took the picture they wanted me to take and went about my day. Yesterday I was rummaging through my twitter timeline only to find hundreds of twitpics of people positioned in that very same pose that the two girls from the previous day had asked me to take a picture off. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on. It was as if planking became the norm overnight.

The very idea that stupidity of this kind can be such a widespread plague within such a short period of time is alarming. I was almost proud of myself for being above the fray of imbeciles that kept tweeting their lives away without so much as an objective regard for how absurd this practice had become. I attempted to have a serious discussion about this fad with a couple of people but I kept being tossed the proverbial “lighten up” phrase that shields people from having to justify their vices.

Acton Beale was a 20 year old Australian kid who fell to his death from a 7 story building who, while under the influence of alcohol, attempted to position himself over a balcony face down pointing his legs up and his arms to his sides.

You might read that statement and think; “well gee, that was dumb. Who would be stupid enough to try that?” Well of course it’s stupid, and I certainly do not need to explain why. Now read this instead:

Acton Beale was a 20 year old Australian kid who fell to his death from a 7 story building who, while under the influence of alcohol, died from a planking accident.

It’s laughable that the interviewee who claims to have introduced Acton Beale to planking would stress that it was drinking that killed him and not planking itself. I suppose this calls for “don’t drink and plank” campaigns to be mobilized for people’s safety. How else are we going to keep the public safe from themselves?

It completely nullifies any humane sense of morality when an avoidable tragedy is cloaked under the label of a fad. People, for lack of a better term, are idiots. As a matter of fact, Acton Beale is an idiot. I have no sympathy for this man, nor am I remorseful. Why should anybody blur the line between common sense and unfiltered stupidity for someone who attempted to straddle themselves on a balcony bar? Does having a name for the action he attempted give carte blanche to those of us who can’t understand why the fad is so popular to begin with? The intellectual people out there who see this story and then advise people to plank with caution are equally stupid. The term is planking. Derived from “wooden plank.” As in to mimic a wooden plank. You are feeble minded vermin if you have been part of this craze.

One would think something devastating must have happened in the world to cause the gap between rational and irrational to grow wider than it already was. Whereas once upon a time stupidity can be accounted for on an individual and case by case basis, now it is as if it’s a virus that spreads with the stroke of a tweet. Then the virus spreads globally until it becomes a worldwide trending topic, and when that happens rational thinking is suspended indefinitely.

I truly believe that people who dismiss this kind of buffoonery with the notion that it’s just a “fad” are dangerously underestimating how much a fad reflects on the intellectual status of a society. Especially one that condones it. That’s the thing about intellect, having too much of it in a cesspool of complacent idiocy is tantamount to concurrence because if reasonable people won’t bother remedying the stupidity that surrounds them, then they must approve of it on some level. Maybe they are right for turning a blind eye. Maybe there is no point in investing any kind of hope for these people. However I am of the belief that if simple-minded people can cause the world to lie face down on the floor and mimic a wooden plank, then certainly one lone sharp mind can inspire the world to accomplish so much more. Planking may be dim-witted, but taking the moral high ground and just allowing the idiots (the virus) to run amuck is the equivalent of intellectual planking.

You think planking is stupid? Well I say those who laugh it off like it’s nothing are equally stupid. The next time you see somebody lying stiff face down on the floor, step on the back of their head and soil their face into the ground. Don’t allow yourself to be engulfed into a craze that is beneath you. In fact, planking is beneath the very people that practice it. These people don’t even deserve to be called planks. Wooden planks are used to build. They are used to build ships, houses, and bridges among other things. The only thing these moronic fools have built is a legion of mindless posers. Literally.

(Source: elmosince87.com)

We Are Up To Our Noses In Cocaine Rap

Is there any greater fairytale in rap than the cocaine selling emcee who documents his illegal escapades in song? How is it that nearly two decades after the crack epidemic of the 80′s, the public is still able to be entertained by this subject? While we can all acknowledge the cocaine plague even in this day and age, surely we’re smart enough to understand how much hip hop has romanticized selling dope. Straight off the iPhone no less. The orators of these fairy tales are even more amusing. Signed recording artists comfortably residing in suburbia, secure in a gated community with lawyers and doctors for neighbors. However let them tell it, and they’re selling 8 balls parked outside a liquor store under the watchful eye of police surveillance. Perversions of factual crimes that have been diluted to mimic Scorcese pictures, but they don’t even come close to the authenticity of the movies. It’s hilariously ironic.

Coke rap is a neurological disorder. It must be. Those who choose to portray themselves as drug dealing kingpins, à la Scarface and less so The Wire (despite accurate depiction), must believe on some level that they are the chariacture they portray. It’s almost baffling that the biggest gangster rapper in the industry was a former Corrections Officer. Stand back and try to fathom that hypocrisy for a minute. We hardly acknowledge that fact anymore because much to Rick Ross’ credit, he has defied the scrutiny of the institution of hip hop and bulldozed his way to success no matter how hard media tried to expose him. A personal victory for him, and I commend his success but it comes at a cost for the culture. It is comical that we continue to be entertained by pyrex folklore and cocaine sagas, while we bury the truth in the back of our critical thinking minds.

Asking these types of artists to justify their fabrications is an even more bewildering conversation to engage in. Artists will cite everything from “the struggle” to the first amendment to explain why they rap about make believe. Even with their flimsy arguments, they act as though they are guided by a higher calling from “the streets” to deliver the kind of misrepresentation they specialize in. I suppose ignorance needs a soundtrack, but even the streets see right through the nonsense, so who is this really entertaining? Well, who is buying albums?

Most of the BET audience don’t even know who Big Meech or Larry Hoover are, but it doesn’t matter because white America will sing along regardless of the words us blacks sprout if it’s catchy enough. Delusion will have Rick Ross and artists such as him believe that he is paying homage, but surely you can appreciate the ironic hilarity behind an ex-correctional officer paying homage to the kind of criminals he used to be responsible for keeping locked up. This is the beauty about cocaine rap ideology, it requires no rhyme or reason. The logic is skewed, but nobody is willing to really question it because apparently being labeled a “hater” is more heinous than lying.

We have surpassed the tipping point. If it’s not Ross, it’s Wayne. If it’s not Jeezy, it’s Gucci. If it’s not Pusha T, it’s… well I could go on. The question is where does it stop? When is the minstrel show these coons conduct going to draw its curtains? What is the better alternative? Surely I can’t be suggesting that emo rap is the better choice. Well, honesty seems to be the common thread in the growing landscape of emo rap, which is more than I can say for coke rap. Are you simply not sick of it ? There aren’t enough bricks and birds in the world to account for the dealings coke rap will have you believe it’s involved in. Seriously, haven’t we had it up to here…

What Is a Classic if Everything is a “Classic”?

Bill Maher does this segment called “New Rules” in the closing of each episode on his show Real Time With Bill Maher. Its a sarcastic and cleverly written series of newly appointed rules society needs in order to rid themselves of fuckery, for lack of a better term, in light of whatever the current state of affairs may be. Of course these aren’t actual rules, and I suppose the joke is in knowing that these proposed rules will never actually be instituted even though it would behoove the person to follow Maher’s regulations. In any event, we need a few new rules in hip hop. One of which should be against the systematic raping of the word “classic.” We used to reserve that word for the most stellar and timeless songs or albums that defined an era, generation, or year in our culture. Now, if you take the word of an artist who’s on the verge of releasing their forthcoming project, it comes with a guarantee that it is going to be a classic.

This perversion of the word does more to damage the credibility of the artist who promises as much, than it does to prepare us for whatever microwave project they intend to put out. In a more practical sense, it’s the lack of creativity that bothers me. Albums or mixtapes are promised to be “hot” or “classic” but never insightful, unique, engaging, or anything of the sort. The adjectives used to describe that which we should expect are as redundant as the artists making the description. All of these artists assuring you that their album or mixtape is GOING TO BE a classic are one of two things; fortune tellers or passengers from the short bus.

Slang or trendy phrases have always substituted the denotation of a word or phrase for a more nuanced connotation, regardless of how radical the new definition may be from the original. That is to say, the definition of classic is; that which is memorable because of special literary or historical significance and as such serves as a standard of excellence. Simply put, a certain amount of time is required pass before something can even be considered to be deemed a classic. Standing the test of time is rewarded with the stamp of classic. What’s more, classic is a feeling more so than a grade. This is partly why an album like Reasonable Doubt, upon release, can fall short of the coveted 5 mic rating from the Source, yet after years spent with the ripples of that album’s effect on culture, it was inevitable for the staff to reconvine and give it its proper rating. This is also why, an album like Bun B’s Trill OG is undeservingly given that very same 5 mic rating without even allowing the public and the culture to digest the music prior to review. Like I say, “classic” is a feeling, not a rating. Classic is the reason a song like “Dear Mama” can have the same effect on a person today as it did in 1995. We have to allow ourselves to spend time with our songs and albums before we can sift through the clutter and distniguish the momentary pleasures from the true classics. Long story short; stop claiming your next project is a classic. It’s an asinine use of a term that should be dear to us. Not only will you fall short of that credit you so arrogantly bestowed upon your work, but you could very possibly hinder your album from becoming a classic. Here’s a formula; make a good album, promote it creatively, ride it’s success ‘til the wheels fall off, then let time decide if it’s a classic.

this time its for the west…

this time its for the west…

I can’t breathe

I can’t breathe

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Phil Collins

—In The Air Tonight

I can feel it…