Hip-Hop Stardome: A Dangerous Dream

You're not ready for me. The fact that you even decided to read this article tells me that you think you're ready, but I know you're not. The title should have scared you away. But no. You thought you could handle this. But again, I will tell you...

You're not ready.

And who am I?

I'm just like any other red-blooded American black male trying to achieve the Hip-Hop dream. That's right. The Hip-Hop dream. Most of you have your own vision of what that might mean; lots of jewelry, half naked women, big houses, exotic cars, weed smoke, fist fights and gunplay.

Yep. I want all of that. Including the gunplay. I want to shoot people. No doubt in my mind that there are people in this world that need to be shot. The thing that separates us from the hip-hop world is that they will shoot those in need of being shot. And in most of our deepest and darkest minds, we normal people wish we had the guts to do it. I want that wanton disregard for life. I want it just like any other red blooded American black male out there. The Hip Hop dream.

But, hold on a second. I know what you must be thinking at this point. Who the is this ignorant ass espousing the positive virtues of the cycle of violence that is prevalent in the world of the most popular genre of music, that being urban music, today? That's what you're thinking, right?

Well, I'm a consumer. I'm a consumer of said music with a right to speak whatever ignorant crap that enters my nappy head. I am a virtual victim of society's mess-ups and leech on whatever good happens in this world.

I am an everyday man with multimedia-driven dreams. I am an American with the right to defecate on my leaders because I pay about fifteen percent of my income in taxes. That alone gives me the right to say whatever the hell I want. That's if I work at all.

I am the guy who was forced to sit in class and listen to dry lessons on subjects I wasn't remotely interested in and made to compete with the white kids that were.

I am who's parents selfishly made me go to the college of their choice thus forcing me to drop out with no degree and a crippling sense of entitlement.

I am the guy who applies for jobs out of my qualifications league and blame white people for keeping me out.

I am the guy who asks other black people for hook-ups, only to belittle them when I don't get them.

I am the one who actually gets the job and then tells the boss what I'm not going to do that day.

I am the one who brags about having the easiest job in the world for the most pay.

I am the guy who smokes weed and defends it.

I'm the person who wants to murder someone over the fact that I got fired over the piss test I just took and failed.

I'm the one that fights on the job.

I am the complainer.

I am the procrastinator.

I am the abuser.

I am the alienator.

I am all the above and then some.

I am definitely a piece of work.

I am the American black man seeking the Hip Hop dream.

Are you mad yet? Were you ready for that? If you're black and have at least one 50 cent CD in your collection, then you probably apply to most of what I've written above. If you're white and have the same 50 cent CD, you have great taste in music.

The point I'm trying to make?

It's now late 2008 as I tap these words into this computer, and black men and women of my generation have not transcended the muck we have mired ourselves in over the past forty years. Fashion, money, athletic ability, and sex are how we define ourselves, not necessarily in that order. I've talked to many brothers over the years about what they aspire to and what they want from life. And from most of their mouths come crap like, "I want to be a record producer," or "I want to get a record deal."

A record deal? You want to be a singer? It seems to me that if given the chance, every black man under forty would be a rap star or record producer. It is amazing to me. And half these wannabe Diddys don't know what it takes to even achieve that goal! These kids think they are going to freestyle their way to Jay Z status! It's sad. So sad. Not one to rain on one's dreams but one must understand that the mega-stars in the business are true talents! There are not supposed to be millions of successful producers in the world. I truly love Hip-Hop. But with technology the way it is today, anyone with a little money and weekends off can put out passable music. You might think that's great. I see a diluting of the genre. (But that's another article.)

But, alas, I can hear the proponents with their tired argument about how chasing Grammys and Source awards keeps some kids out of the streets and how it is a legitimate way for someone to get away from the poverty they have lived in, blah, blah, blah...

That's all fine except that most hip-hop music I listen to today is crap. It's the same argument drug dealers make when pressed as to why the do what they do. "I have to take care of my people. I have to feed my kids," or some nonsense like that. In reality we as black people like to relax too much. We want to make money without having to work hard for it. That's it. Maybe we're still tired from all those years of slavery and we are just resting right now. Maybe it's time to wake up.

The Hip Hop dream. Wow. I cringe when I hear brother after brother tell me he wants to entertain for a living. It's like we don't aspire to much else but that rock and roll lifestyle.

And what's even more maddening is I want the same thing. I wrote some rhymes this morning. I'm thirty-nine years old and I wrote some lyrics over a bowl of Raisin Bran at about six-o'clock in the A.M.. And they is tight, too! ... There is definitely something wrong here.

Look, we are on the verge of having our first other-than-Caucasian president. This, if it comes to fruition, will be an event that will change the course of our nation and the future aspirations of black people for posterity. I've heard it mentioned before by pundits since Senator Obama became a serious contender that now we can honestly tell our black children they can aspire to be more than their parents. They can be more than what they are expected to be. They can reach positions that inspire real change and not just in music, sports or movies.

My biggest fear, though, is that it will have no effect at all. I am frightened that even amidst the greatest moment in African American history, the significance will be lost and the lesson not learned. One can only hope that we, my peer group, sees what has happened up to this point and moves with the moment, never letting it slip away. It's incumbent upon us to hitch a ride on this man's star, and let it propel us to real change, realistic aspirations and something more than just dancing, rapping and making hot music for strip clubs. And this needs to happen ...

whether he wins or not!

But you know what? I'm scared ya'll ain't ready.

The Hip Hop dream may be too strong to resist.