Creature “The Underdog’s Manifesto” Book Review
If you turn on the radio or sit down in front of the television, you normally experience a certain perception of hip-hop: Big time rappers and major labels. So it comes as no surprise that most emcees see signing a major deal as the only way to make it as an artist. They don’t want to settle for anything less than being that famous rapper on MTV – nothing less than being a star. But in reality, major deals are few and far between. And in many cases, major label artists are still broke and struggling.  

However, most emcees don’t realize that there are other ways to do what they love and make a living. With dedication, a hard work ethic and a willingness to pass on worldwide fame, a rapper can make his own fortune by doing it all himself. Don’t think so? Well, ask Creature. Creature is a local New York City emcee that personally sold more than 10,000 CDs without the help of a label, a marketing campaign or major distribution. And now he is sharing his story with the world in “The Underdog’s Manifesto: A Guerilla Artist’s Path To Independence.”

The Entrepreneurial Spirit of the Underdog
We’ve all heard stories of underdogs making it big before. After all, our country was founded on the underdog. Creature’s story is no different, and actually reminds me of an underdog story my grandfather used to tell me – a story about his great-grandfather.

My grandfather’s great-grandfather was a poor sharecropper who worked the farms of the Midwest in the mid-1800s, struggling to pay off his debts and provide for his family. In 1848, however, news hit that gold was discovered at Sutter’s Mill in California. Men throughout the Midwest flocked to Cali, making life-threatening journeys across the continent in covered wagons, hoping to find gold and strike it rich. Unfortunately, most of these “forty-niners” returned home with nothing.

My grandfather’s great-grandfather traveled west during the great California Gold Rush – but he did not mine for gold. Instead, he set up shop at a miner’s camp around San Francisco. When miners returned from long and often unsuccessful days in the mountains, he would cook them dinner, do their laundry, fix their equipment, and mail their letters. He never saw so much as a spec of gold, but returned home a rich man. He purchased thousands of acres of farmland outside the little town of Terre Haute, Indiana, the last of which my grandfather sold off shortly before his death.

Now my grandfather would always tell that story gleaming with pride. To him, it was an example not only of the American dream, but also of some kind of underdog entrepreneurial spirit. Instead of being blinded by the hope of striking gold, his great-grandfather was able to read between the lines, see the real opportunity of the Gold Rush, and use his skills to profit and change his own destiny. And in comparison, that’s not much different that what Creature has done.

Instead of following the crowds in being blinded by the hope of signing a major deal and becoming a rap superstar, Creature was able to analyze the situation and see the real opportunity of the great Hip-Hop Rush. While cats were futilely trying to strike major deals, Creature set up shop just blocks away from major record label offices and sold 10,000 copies of his debut album, Never Say Die, directly to hip-hop fans in less than a year. His success has allowed him to make a good living doing what he loves, invest in his future, and get his music to the people, all without having to sacrifice his originality, creativity or ethics by working with a major record label.

The Path to Independence
“The Underdog’s Manifesto: A Guerilla Artist’s Path To Independence” is both the story of Creature’s journey and his manual for Do It Yourself (DIY) artists to find success on their own. It documents his rugged road to self-reliance, and shares the lessons he learned along the way.

In Chapter II, Creature breaks down his strategy for selling music independently to the reader, emphasizing the importance of self-evaluation, being observant and making a connection with the buyer; the importance of being a master communicator and avoiding making assumptions about people; and the importance of keeping it light while finding your inspiration as an independent salesperson. In Chapter III, Creature teaches the necessity of finding the “artistpreneuer within” and transforming that into a legitimate business venture, even going as far as to explain the pros and cons of sole proprietorship verses corporation and limited liability status, and giving important advice on how to blend business with art.

Chapter VI stresses the importance of monetary discipline and of investing your money in tangible pursuits, while Chapter VII urges the reader to recognize the need for teamwork and doing business only with people that are willing to stay on the grind. And Chapter VIII gives step-by-step instructions on the art of performing, booking shows, and choosing competitions, open mic nights and compilation projects with care.

The remainder of the book consists of two in-depth interviews between Creature and co-author Dax-Devlon Ross, both of which effectively serve to give firsthand thoughts and philosophies of a true DIY underdog, and a series of biographical sketches of legendary independent artists, with profiles on Too Short, Eazy-E, RZA of the Wu-Tang Clan, and Master P, among others, which show the reader the possibilities by providing case studies of underdog artists that have traveled the path to independence.

Creature’s manifesto is an enlightening and thought-provoking take on the true meaning of success, and the sacrifices one must make in order to achieve independence as a guerilla artist. It shows that by staying on the grind and taking pride in a modest hard day’s hustle, artists can still stay real, maintain originality and make it big without the help a major label. This book is a must read for any independent artist who can relate. Peace.

S. Craig Watkins “Hip Hop Matters: Politics, Pop Culture, and the Struggle for the Soul of a Movement” Book Review
I sat down with some friends last night and, for the first time in months, watched some rap music videos, managing to catch BET’s Rap City and 106 & Park, among others. I looked around as everyone bobbed their heads in enjoyment while checking out the current playlist, myself included. Shoot . just because I write for Hip-Hop Linguistics, a website dedicated to underground, misunderstood and non-commercial hip-hop, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the radio bumps or club bangers like everyone else.

As the videos came one after another, I started to notice a few trends. First, everybody is doing this snap dance, or some variation of the dance, in every video played. You know, that dance where everybody leans to one side and snaps in unison to the beat. Second, all the videos have relatively the same theme, talking about rims and women and stuff as usual. Third, all the directors are Hype Williams wannabees. Not only do they use his same techniques, camera angles and visions to make their videos, but the videos also contain hundreds of half-naked women shaking what is now apparently referred to as “laffy taffy.” Every video, whether BET or MTV, was almost exactly the same. I even got to the point where it seemed like I was just watching one video with twenty or so different segments.

Since I never watch music videos or even turn on the local “hip-hop stations” on the radio, this was a little bit of a culture shock for me. Although I was far from surprised, I honestly had no idea that this type of hip-hop was all the stations would play, and it opened up my eyes to the realities of hip-hop’s understanding within American pop culture. Many times, I can’t seem to understand why people consistently hold the same views about hip-hop. But after watching just a couple hours of rap videos, I could see why everyone views this bling materialistic hip-hop as authoritative. After all, that’s obviously all they show on TV or play on the radio.

Unique Experience in Hip-Hop
The entire experience made me think about the latest hip-hop book I have read, S. Craig Watkins‘ “Hip Hop Matters: Politics, Pop Culture, and the Struggle for the Soul of a Movement.” Like most hip-hop scholarship and historical study, including wonderful experiences written by Bakari Kitwana, Imani Jones, Michael Eric Dyson and others, Watkins’ account of the history of hip-hop was quite different than mine. If I were to write my hip-hop book, it would definitely focus on several different events within the history of the hip-hop movement that have helped to define my experience within the culture.

However, what is great about such accounts is that they show the existence of unique experience in hip-hop. It amazes me that Watkins and I can seemingly feel the exact same way about the possibilities of hip-hop and the drastically important role it has played in our lives despite the fact that we both have come to these conclusions based on quite different paths through the world of hip-hop. Hip-hop is so broad and inclusive that it would be impossible to define it in one particular way, or explain it using a specified framework or list of topics, events or experiences. The world of academia’s involvement in hip-hop scholarship is beginning to demonstrate the multiple understandings of hip-hop culture.

Unfortunately, this area of hip-hop intellectualism and scholarship is starting to show itself as one of the few aspects of the culture of hip-hop that understands this. Record companies think that bling hip-hop is the only type of hip-hop music worth packaging and marketing to America’s pop culture audience, as if there was no market at all for reality and societal importance in hip-hop. MTV and BET think that people will stop watching their videos if they play something different or unique, as if their playlists somehow represented the entire hip-hop generation. And radio thinks that people will change stations if they don’t play the same five or ten songs over and over and over, as if our people are so closed-minded that they will not accept change or innovation within their music.

The Matters of Hip-Hop
What is truly dynamic about Watkins’ “Hip Hop Matters” is that it recognizes not only the constantly extending sphere of hip-hop influence in American popular culture, but it also acknowledges that various unique and different experiences with and understandings of hip-hop culture will be an effect of this widening sphere of influence. If the money makers and corporations within popular culture would make an attempt to understand this, they might see that bling snap-dance hip-hop is not the only type of music people want to listen to, and is far from representative of an entire widespread culture.

Hip-hop does matter: In American popular culture; in American social theory and progression; in American and world politics. And Watkins’ excellent combination of facts, statistics and historical analyses is yet another personal account that can be used to understand this. Everything he talks about in this book is relevant not only to the historical understanding of hip-hop culture, but also to the understanding of the culture’s effects on society, politics and reality in America. Unfortunately, the majority of people in this country would rather watch a video than read a book, and are likely to continue to ignore the fact that multiple realms of hip-hop influence exist within our society.

So again, TURN OFF THE TV AND READ!! You just might learn something. Damn, how many times I gotta say it? For those of you who are too lazy to read a 200-plus page book, I have summarized the contents of “Hip Hop Matters” below.

Prologue – Hip Hop Matters
The prologue talked about the meeting between Ja Rule and Minister Farrakhan which was held in part to address Ja’s beef with 50 Cent. Watkins claims the interview helped to surface examples of both what hip-hop loves and hates about itself, and demonstrated many of the issues circulating through the world of hip-hop, including race, politics, history, violence and generational gaps. Here, the author defines hip-hop as a cultural movement committed to defying the cultural and political mainstream, but whose biggest battle is the one it is having with itself.

“Over the course of its career hip hop has developed a notorious and even self-perpetuating reputation as a spectacular cultural movement committed to defying the cultural and political mainstream. But as the borders of the hip-hop nation continue to expand, its biggest and most important battle is shaping up to be the one it is having with itself. Behind the explosive record sales, trendsetting cachet, and burgeoning economy is an intense struggle for the soul of the hip-hop movement. There has never been a consensus within hip hop about its purpose, identity, or destiny. In fact, the most robust debates about hip hop have always taken place within the movement. Hip hop has and continues to be its most potent critic and courageous champion.”

“In addition to being a pop culture force, hip hop’s widening sphere of influence has shouldered it with the burden of being a genuine political force. Gone are the discussions about whether hip hop matters; they have been replaced instead by the key issues of who and what kinds of values will define how hip hop matters. The struggle for hip hop is real, and it is being played out across a remarkably rich and varied terrain – in pop culture, old and new media, colleges and universities, in prisons, through the conduit of community activism, in suburbia, among youth, and through the political minefields of race and gender.”

Introduction – Back in the Day
In the introduction, Watkins summarizes the origins of the hip-hop movement, defining it as a cultural underworld consisting of inner city and underclass youth bustling with energy and innovation. He then tells the history of Sugar Hill Records, especially the events and decisions that led to hip-hop’s first pop hit, “Rapper’s Delight.” Watkins also talks about the beginnings of hip-hop’s seemingly inevitable political promise, including Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five’s “The Message,” which indicated that socially conscious rap music did exist in the marketplace, and Afrika Bambaataa’s Zulu Nation and the group’s belief in the political potency of hip-hop music and culture. The chapter then traces the beginnings of turntablism, praising Flash and his contemporaries for imposing their creative will on landscape with very few resources or opportunities.

Part One – Pop Culture and the Struggle for Hip Hop

Chapter 1 – Remixing American Pop
Chapter 1 investigates America’s pop music industry and its methods of collecting data, a system of research that eventually led to the development of SoundScan‘s information technology designed to track music sales with more precision. In his account, Watkins traces the evolution of SoundScan and the Billboard charts, and how this evolution created a radical revision of our country’s notion of pop music as the new data consistently proved rap’s rapidly increasing pop status. The chapter then goes on to show how these changes in popular music sales data impacted the indie music scene, leading to the quick rise of such labels as Interscope and Death Row, specifically following the progress of Dr. Dre, Suge Knight, Jimmy Iovine and Tim Field.

Chapter 2 – A Great Year in Hip Hop
Chapter 2 discussed 1997′s publishing wars in hip-hop, a conflict between hip-hop magazines the Source and XXL fought over recognition of the best journalistic representatives of hip-hop music and culture. Watkins focuses in large part on the recreation of Esquire magazine’s 1958 “A Great Day in Harlem” photo by XXL. In his analysis, “Great Day in Harlem ’98″ signified the degree to which the hip-hop movement was beginning to come to terms with its own rise and widening influence. The chapter goes on to discuss hip-hop’s great gains in the mainstream spotlight in 1998, and follows its pop culture breakthrough in that year with six different hip-hop artists climbing to number one on the Billboard charts.

Chapter 3 – Fear of a White Planet
Chapter 3 discussed hip-hop’s ability to defy the racial and class boundaries that shape life in America, pointing specifically to Eminem and his beef with the Source magazine as a visible symbol of the struggle for hip-hop. In this chapter, Watkins demonstrates the anxiety within hip-hop regarding the degree to which white-controlled corporations and white consumers have become the dominant force in the hip-hop movement. Watkins also contemplates the attraction of white youths to ghetto narratives and gangster rap artists such as N.W.A., and whether or not this fascination reflects the declining significance of race or just a more complex expression of racism.

Chapter 4 – The Digital Underground
Chapter 4 investigates the correlation between hip-hop and the Internet, bringing forward issues such as file sharing and piracy. Following the journey of Public Enemy and, more specifically, Chuck D, Watkins traces the debate over file sharing and Napster, and presents the point of views of both those who are concerned about who should control copyrighted works and those who feel that the media giants’ ownership of intellectual property allows them to dominate the media airwaves. Watkins goes on to recount the history of Public Enemy and their dealings with Russell Simmons’ and Rick Rubin’s Def Jam Records, as well as Chuck’s development of Web-based music initiatives created to enforce the idea that hip-hop should have a strong Internet presence. The chapter ends while examining the 1996 Telecommunications Act, which Watkins claims hastened the rise of corporate rap by helping to create new rules the governed big radio, including pay-for-play, testing, call-outs and corporate-controlled playlists.

Part Two – Politics and the Struggle for Hip Hop

Chapter 5 – Move the Crowd
Chapter 5 discusses some of hip-hop’s early attempts to create a political voice, including Russell Simmons’ involvement in New York’s negotiation over the repeal of the Nelson Rockefeller drug statutes and various political endeavors of the Hip-Hop Summit Action Network (HSAN). In this chapter, Watkins critiques the positives and negatives of such campaigns while entertaining the debate about how the hip-hop movement can gain a sense of responsibility and commitment to its diverse youth-based constituency. Watkins concludes that a hip-hop political agenda needs to be more strategically focused and requires people willing to do the messy work that emphasizes substantive change over publicity-seeking media events.

Chapter 6 – Young Voices in the Hood
Chapter 6 examines San Francisco Bay Area hip-hop and its success in becoming one of the liveliest political scenes in hip-hop, specifically the movement’s involvement in various California issues, mainly the state’s embrace of “tough on crime” politics. In this chapter, Watkins discusses California’s Gang Violence and Juvenile Crime Prevention Act of 1998, commonly referred to as Proposition 21, which approved measures making California by far the nation’s toughest state on juvenile offenders. He also speaks in length about the California Youth Authority (CYA) and its failures in reforming and improving the lives of youth offenders. Watkins then goes on to provide a handful very interesting statistics on America’s drastically-increasing prison populations, especially in regards to black and Latino youth, as well as women.

Chapter 7 – “Our Future . Right Here, Right Now!”
Chapter 7 gives a detailed account of the Detroit mayoral race between “hip-hop mayor” Kwame Kilpatrick and Gil Hill. The campaign was set as old verses new, or civil rights generation verses hip-hop generation, and studying the campaign points out many of the issues pertinent to such a political race. Watkins then goes on to discuss another related race, Newark’s political battle between younger candidate Corey Booker and older candidate Sharpe James, a campaign which demonstrated what Watkins believes may be the future direction of urban politics guided by the hip-hop generation. The examination of these respective campaigns not only illustrates the different agendas and approaches to politics pushed by the hip-hop generation, but also a good example of the future of urban politics. Watkins concludes that the hip-hop generation is inheriting a political moment based in the post-9/11 world in which the issues confronting urban America are no longer on the nation’s radar.

Chapter 8 – “We Love Hip Hop, But Does Hip Hop Love Us?”
Chapter 8 investigates the wrongful treatment of women within the world of hip-hop by pointing to examples such as Fish ‘N’ Grits magazine, Snoop Dogg’s commercial sex videos and other example of hip-hop pornography. In this chapter, Watkins examines the pre- and post- Hype Williams periods in hip-hop music videos. This led him inevitably to Nelly’s “Tip Drill” video, and the backlash it received from women, media, colleges and universities all over the nation. Watkins then gives another set of great statistics on the changing sexual world of teenagers, specifically how hip-hop’s distorted images of black sexuality produce adverse outcomes for black girls. In his opinion, this is best seen through the case of R. Kelly’s child molestation charges, during which Kelly was effectively portrayed as the victim while the young girl’s experiences were virtually ignored.

Chapter 9 – Artificial Intelligence?
Chapter 9 discusses the existence of hip-hop intellectuals, and questions whether or not hip-hop can exist as an educational medium outside of its pop cultural craze. In this chapter, Watkins points to several examples of hip-hop’s intellectual potential being questioned, including the Berklee College of Music‘s debate over whether or not to offer a turntablism class, Harvard’s establishment of the Hiphop Archive, and the rapidly rising world of hip-hop literature and its reluctant acceptance by major publishing companies. Watkins then talks about the rising class of hip-hop scholars, and raises important questions as to the resistance offered by both America’s intellectual institutions and their own urban communities.

Epilogue – Bigger Than Hip Hop
The epilogue discusses both the successes and failures of hip-hop as a social and political movement, specifically recalling P. Diddy’s “Vote or Die” campaign and the actual effects young voters had on the 2004 presidential election. In conclusion, Watkins states that the struggle for hip-hop, as a major influence in America’s pop cultural, political, and intellectual life, has only begun.

“The purists in the movement believe that in the midst of a commercial explosion hip hop has lost its edge, its spirit of innovation, and its capacity for inspiration. But this view assumes that hip hop has only one destiny, only one true historic course. As the voices, people, and places that define hip hop grow more diverse, the movement continues to develop many different identities and interests. Despite a fascinating history and undeniable influence in America’s pop cultural, political, and intellectual life, the struggle for hip hop, amazingly, has only just begun.”

Darby & Shelby “Hip-Hop & Philosophy: Rhyme 2 Reason” Book Review
I must admit that I’ve started to grow somewhat weary of people talking about the “Four Elements of Hip-Hop.” It seems like every time I read an article about hip-hop, everyone is attempting to define it with the use of these four attributes, which include rapping, DJing, breakdancing and graffiti. This has always confused me, because ever since I was a kid, I was under the impression that there were not four, but five, elements of hip-hop.

Could it be that, somewhere along the line, the culture forgot about its ties to community, politics, and intelligent and groundbreaking trains of thought? Could it be that we’ve been so excited by the mainstream’s acceptance of the first four elements that we feel no reason to push the fifth? Or is it that people who cannot understand hip-hop as a worldview and culture, instead attempting to define it as a style or fad, choose to leave out the fifth element due to their inabilities to explain it or make it fit within their preconceived notions of what hip-hop is supposed to be? Being the conspiracy theorist that I am, I tend to believe in the last explanation.

The Fifth Element … Knowledge
The fifth element of hip-hop has always been knowledge. This element is a broad one, and can be seen to include everything from self-consciousness and cultural awareness to social and political philosophies and new patterns of thinking. Yet this fifth element is continuously, almost blatantly, ignored, so much that everyone nowadays appears to believe that hip-hop is, and always has been, composed of only four elements.

However, the emergence of more and more intellectual studies based on the social, political and educational aspects of hip-hop culture, and the music that reflects its agendas, is being seen all over the United States. From Cornel West to Tricia Rose to Michael Eric Dyson, intellectuals and scholars are showing that the fifth element of hip-hop does indeed exist, and possesses the ability to vehemently turn heads and change our society’s understanding of the hip-hop culture and worldview.

The most recent of these studies, Derrick Darby and Tommie Shelby’s “Hip Hop and Philosophy: Rhyme2Reason,” stretches these boundaries even further by proving that hip-hop music can be consulted while contemplating some of life’s most pondered mysteries. By showing the strong connection between the beginnings of philosophy and the beginnings of hip-hop, these editors and their team of modern philosophers make one wonder if hip-hop could do as much as our most prevalent philosophical studies to further conscious thought and understanding into our future, as both a culture and a worldview.

Hip-Hop & Philosophy
From the cobblestone streets of ancient Athens to the downtrodden boulevards of America’s urban areas, one cannot help but see patterns of similarity in how the people came together under less than desirable conditions to answer life’s important questions. I can just see Socrates standing at a street corner around a trash can set ablaze, ambulances and police cars whizzing by, questioning the hypocrisies of the ruling class and kicking knowledge from a modern day perspective to any who will dare to listen or have the courage to spit back. After all, isn’t that what he was put to death for?

“Hip-Hop and Philosophy” was both an interesting and entertaining read. While some chapters immerse the reader in deep thought, others also create laughter and, at times, sadness. I was so immersed in it that I read it twice consecutively. Kinda like that dope album that you just let run through and through. Unfortunately, the book is a little on the nerd tip, and may be a hard read for anyone not familiar with philosophy, hip-hop, or ultimately, both. Therefore, I have summarized it below. Holler.

Disk 1 – Da Mysteries: God, Love, and Knowledge

Chapter 1 – Yo! Ain’t No Mystery: Who Is God?
Written by Derrick Darby, this chapter contemplates divine omnipotence, or the claim that God can do all things, using the arguments of Saint Thomas Aquinas, Socrates, Rakim, Young Buck, 50 Cent and Tupac. It finds answers in challenging God to roll a blunt so strong that even he can’t hit it, to create a glock so powerful that even he can’t wield it, and to break Tupac from prison.

Chapter 2 – Ain’t (Just) ’bout da Booty: Funky Reflections on Love
Written by Tommie Shelby, this chapter reflects on love using the arguments of Pausanias, Aristophanes, Socrates, Alcibiades (all character’s in Plato’s Symposium, which basically searches for the meaning of love), Andre 3000, Jay-Z, Lil’ Kim, Meth, Biggie and Lauryn Hill.

Chapter 3 – “You Perceive with Your Mind”: Knowledge and Perception
Written by Mitchell S. Green, this chapter challenges the sense-data idea of perception, the idea that your senses work together to create a picture for your mind, using the arguments of Descartes, Sigmund Freud, the Gorillaz, Common, and KRS-One. It makes the case for the existence of a conscious awareness much bigger and deeper than we realize while contemplating the “Cocktail Party Effect,” which questions the senses’ abilities to correctly perceive things, and the theory of adaptive consciousness, which is the idea that we go through much of life in an unconscious state, similar to a jet controller flying around in “auto-pilot.”

Disk 2 – What’s Beef? Ruminations on Violence

Chapter 4 – “Y’all Niggaz Better Recognize”: Hip-Hop’s Dialectical Struggle for Recognition
Written by John P. Pittman, this chapter contemplates the reasoning behind hip-hop beefs and battle rapping using the arguments of George Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Talib Kweli, Run D.M.C., Outkast, Ice Cube, and the Jay-Z vs. Nas beef. It basically interprets rap beef and battles as simple Hegelian “struggle for recognition,” even as relates to the materialism that exists in some portions of the hip-hop culture.

Chapter 5 – Rap Aesthetics: Violence and the Art of Keeping It Real
Written by Richard Shusterman, this chapter evaluates pragmatism in hip-hop using the arguments of the pragmatists, followers of a philosophy that emphasizes practical applications to solving problems or assessing situations. It basically shows that hip-hop, like pragmatism, creates rigid divisions between art and reality, and considers the Darwinian premise that violence, even in hip-hop, can be channeled into artistic forms, thus making it more productive than destructive.

Chapter 6 – “F**k tha Police [State]“: Rap, Warfare, and the Leviathan
Written by Joy James, this chapter examines whether or not a social contract, basically an agreement between the government and the governed defining and limiting the rights of each, has ever existed between the United States and African Americans using the arguments of Thomas Hobbes, Public Enemy, Dead Prez, Meshell Ndegeocello, and Ice-T. It points to the existence of a murderous police presence as proof of a broken social contract, using as examples the rape and torture of Abner Louima (with a broomstick, no less) and the murder of Amadou Diallo (who was fired upon with 41 bullets while unarmed), both acts committed by the NYPD.

Disk 3 – That’s How I’m Livin’: Authenticity, Blackness, and Sexuality

Chapter 7 – Does Hip-Hop Belong to Me? The Philosophy of Race and Culture
Written by Paul C. Taylor, this chapter questions the relationship between race and culture by reviewing the movie Brown Sugar, the Eminem enigma, and his own life. It attempts to disprove classical racialism, which is the old-school belief that somehow culture and intelligence is inherited in the same way eye or skin color is, and concludes that culture does not belong to any single group.

Chapter 8 – Queen Bees and Big Pimps: Sex and Sexuality in Hip Hop
Written by Kathryn T. Gines, this chapter challenges the roles of pimps and hos in hip-hop by likening them to their earlier versions, the post Civil War stereotypes of the black female jezebel and the black male rapist. It examines Nelly’s “Tip Drill” Video and its effect of denying the individuality of women in relation to Jean Paul-Satre’s “concept of the gaze,” or threat of non-recognition. It also examines the concept of the “virgin-whore paradigm,” which ultimately forces women to have no sexual voice, in relation to Lil’ Kim’s well-recognized assertion of her sexuality.

Chapter 9 – Grown Folks’ Business: The Problem of Maturity in Hip Hop
Written by Lewis R. Gordon . you know, I couldn’t really follow this one, even after two readings. I found myself daydreaming. I’ll try one more time and post something if I figure it out.

Disk 4 – Word Up! Language, Meaning, and Ethics

Chapter 10 – Knowwhatumsayin’? How Hip-Hop Lyrics Mean
Written by Stephen Lester Thompson, this chapter examines when a lyric really means what a lyricist is attempting to say, and when it only represents part of a personae, or public image.

Chapter 11 – Girl Got 99 Problems: Is Hip Hop One?
Written by Sarah McGrath and Lidet Tilahun, this chapter attempts to figure out whether or not hip-hop is bad for women using arguments of John Stuart Mill, David Hume, J.L. Austin, and Immanuel Kant. Never seems to figure it out though.

Chapter 12 – “For All My Niggaz and Bitches”: Ethics and Epithets
Written by J. Angelo Corlett, this chapter uses moral philosophy to address the ethical issue of whether or not it is morally wrong for hip-hop artists and comics to use language normally considered bad. It examines the comedy of Dave Chappelle in relation to John Stuart Mill’s Harm Principle, which states that the only time that words ought to be prohibited by law is when they cause harm to others.

Disc 5 – Fight the Power: Political Philosophy ‘n the Hood

Chapter 13 – Microphone Commandos: Rap Music and Political Philosophy
Written by Bill E. Lawson, this chapter goes a little further into the idea of a broken contract between the United States and African Americans, asserting that America has not lived up to its promise of social inclusion for all citizens. It pushes the point that political rap in part represents Americans’ responses to this broken contract.

Chapter 14 – Halfway Revolution: From That Gangsta Hobbes to Radical Liberals
Written by Lionel K. McPherson, this chapter makes the case that political rap is not politically revolutionary, as its visions have been mainly amoral, Afrocentric, or liberal. It pushes the point that political rap is the soundtrack to the hip-hop generation’s anger over being left out of the American dream.

Chapter 15 – Criminal-Justice Minded: Retribution, Punishment, and Authority
Written by Erin I. Kelly, this chapter examines the similarities between prison and the ghetto, as well as the policies that have dramatically increased the prison population seven times in the past forty years. It also gives several interesting facts about the jail sentencing differences between possession of crack and possession of cocaine charges, based most likely on the racial percentages of convicts arrested for each.

Chapter 16 – Getting’ Dis’d and Getting’ Paid: Rectifying Injustice
Written by Rodney C. Roberts, this chapter contemplates the reparations struggle, or talking about injustice and what should be done about it. It gives an interesting analysis into forty acres and a mule idea, as well as the reality of how it came to an end.

After . Word! The Philosophy of the Hip Hop Battle
Written by Marcyliena Morgan, this chapter sums up the volume, defining the hip-hop battle as a philosophical fight exploding with overwhelming expectation, opportunity, and challenges that affect real lives.

50 Cent “From Pieces to Weight: Once Upon a Time in Southside Queens” Book Review
No sense in trying to front – I’ve never been a big 50 Cent fan. I guess I’m somewhat required to make that clear off jump in order to keep from losing some of my normal readership that will consider me a sellout for writing this review. It’s not that I dislike 50 Cent or his music, as I refuse to be one of those underground hip-hop head haters, but I’ve never heard one of his albums in its entirety. Rappers who gain a lot of radio airplay are often ignored by the underground, especially when they fit the bill of gangster rappers.  

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of 50 Cent’s songs outside catching one of the many radio releases in between changing CDs in my car, or while bumping my buzzed head at your local city’s so-called “hip-hop club” on ladies night. In those few moments of listening, it wasn’t difficult for me to come to what I thought was a quick understanding of and, perhaps, disregard for him and his music.

MTV-type music is not really something we normally cover here at Hip-Hop Linguistics. This website has always tried to give recognition to talented rappers who are either ignored or misunderstood by the mainstream, and 50 Cent passed that stage when he signed with Eminem and Dr. Dre, putting him on the path to radio, MTV and pop culture superstardom. This preconceived hatred for commercial rappers would surely have prevented me from ever reading 50 Cent’s autobiography, “From Pieces to Weight: Once Upon a Time in Southside Queens.” That was until my man Friday from Noise Marketing offered to send me a free copy in return for a review (Good looks again, homie).

Even after I received the book, I thought I knew exactly what to expect: 50 Cent talking about selling drugs, hurting people, gangbanging, smacking bitches, getting shot nine times, then becoming a multi-platinum rapper. And after checking out a multitude of Internet reviews of the autobiography, it became clear that most people found just that in the book. However, after reading a mere thirteen pages of Curtis James Jackson’s autobiography, I realized not only how far off I was, but how ignorant the majority of Internet hip-hop reviewers remain to be. It became clear that most of these people didn’t even read the book. Maybe they can’t read. Maybe the book’s lack of pictures and overly detailed stories about death or violence made it hard. Or maybe everybody was so convinced that they knew what Jackson’s 220-plus pages would contain that they wrote the reviews without even attempting to read the book.

Most people were vocally upset about the “lack of information” in the book. Jackson barely spoke about his supposedly-lesbian mother or the details of her murder; he didn’t speculate on Jam Master Jay’s murder or if it had anything to do with his mother’s; he vaguely spoke of his own brush with death, and only mentioned getting shot as if it were no more significant than the repetitive actions of one day; and he didn’t sit and diss Ja Rule or any of the people he currently has beef with, instead opting to keep that within the battle raps.

Instead, Jackson spoke of the events of his life from a humble and understanding perspective, almost spending more time reflecting on what he learned from his struggles than on the struggles themselves. He demonstrates outstanding patterns of thought and knowledge, touching on topics ranging from death, prejudice and personal philosophy to education, history, and the business and economics of our country’s drug policies. And all from the perspective and voice of someone who came from the streets. Many people can sit and tell a story about growing up gangster, but not too many of them could it in such an intellectual, enlightening and inspiring way. Curtis James Jackson has earned my respect, not as a rapper just yet, but as a human being who has the courage and ability to reflect on his experiences, and use them to learn, move forward, and become a better person.

Telling His Story
One of my favorite aspects of 50 Cent’s autobiography was that it demonstrated the thoughts of Curtis Jackson more than 50 Cent. He makes many attempts to explain to the reader not only why he chose to write an autobiography at the early age of 28, but also why he explains things in the manner he chooses.

Sometimes the only way I can understand things is to put them in a negative or street connotation. If I can make an analogy for a situation to what it would be on the street, then I can understand it real easy. Gradually, I’ll become something different. I’m going to different places, I’m seeing different things, moving in different circles – I’m becoming a broader person. My outlook on the world is changing, but it hasn’t totally changed. Change takes time. I’ve only been out of the ‘hood for a few years, so those experiences outweigh the new ones.

I feel like I have to tell my story while I can. I’m only twenty-nine years old. To a lot of people, I may be too young to reflect on life. And they may be right. But I’d be wasting my blessings and opportunities if I didn’t use the attention I’m getting right now to shed light on the experiences that have caused me to think the way I think, say the things I say, and make the kind of music I make. I want to explain my environment to those who don’t come any closer to it than the records they buy or the images they see on television. I’m looking back on my life with everything my twenty-nine years has taught me and telling the truth as I see it, while maintaining the honor of the environments that I’ve come from.

I wouldn’t have anything to write about if I didn’t use my own experiences. You’re being unfair if you tell me to come up with rhymes and not use what I came from, to put no part of me or anything that I’ve been through in the music. If I don’t write about what’s going on with me or what’s taking place in the ‘hood, I ain’t got nothing to say.

I haven’t shown my scars on television to sell records. I haven’t let journalists feel the hole in my gum because it sells records. I’ve shared my reality because these are real situations that happen where I’m from. And there are thousands of people who will never get the opportunity to go on TV and tell you what happens in places where gunshots settle arguments. When you look at how my body healed itself, I want you to see the bodies of those who never healed, the ones who didn’t make it to the emergency room on time, the ones who never bounced back.

Jackson insists throughout his autobiography that he is not trying to make money or “sell records,” but trying to “share my reality,” “reflect on life,” and “shed light on the experiences that have caused me to think the way I think.” I respect that. And he remains humble, realizing that he’s “becoming a broader person” and showing appreciation to “the ones who never bounced back.”

Views as a Kid
Another one of my favorite parts of the autobiography was Jackson’s ability to talk about his childhood without incorporating the mentality of an adult. He tells several stories of significance in his past, but manages to tell them in a way that allows the reader to understand the viewpoint he had at the time.

Uncle Harold told me that there was a man named Big Tony who lived not too far from the house who was getting it. He said that Big Tony was getting it so well that people stopped calling him Big Tony, and now just about everybody called him Godfather . I still wasn’t exactly sure what it was or how they got it, but I wanted it more than I wanted to throw parties in the backyard or play with my army men. And the more time I spent on South road, the more I figured out that getting it meant that you could stay up late on any night of the week. I knew that people who weren’t getting it had to go to bed early so they could disappear to work. When my mom came to pick me up in her new car – a black Buick Regal with a white vinyl top – I was sure that getting it was the only way to go.

Stupid shit. That’s the best way to explain what I found myself going through, getting into and doing for the first few years after my mother died . That is, until someone suggested that I be put on methylphenidate, otherwise known to hyperactive children around the world as Ritalin. The Ritalin worked, not necessarily because the medicine was effective but because it’s as potent as any drug ever administered to a child. The logic of the medical establishment to introduce a stimulant to a hyperactive system paid off: With each dose, I could feel every blood vessel in my head swell up and I would become woozy. I slowed down, looking and feeling like a dope fiend to the point where I began to slow myself down rather than take the medicine full time. It became a threat: “Slow down or I’ll give you your medication.”

In my head, the reason things were going bad for me was because my mom wasn’t around. This was my rationalization for all things, big or small . Every time I had seen my mom, something good would happen. But then I couldn’t see her anymore. And nothing seemed to go right . My grandmother picked up on what I was going through, probably before I did, because she showered me with extra extra love and seemed to give me more leeway than she had ever given any of my aunts and uncles.

Jackson reflects on how things looked down “because my mom wasn’t around,” and how his prescribed Ritalin “became a threat” used to keep him in line. My favorite passage in the entire book was the “getting it” passage listed above. He talked of people “getting it,” and how it made him think that “getting it was the only way to go.” Although we all know what “it” is, Jackson speaks from the perspective of a child, one who is consumed by the struggle for money and power that surrounds him.

Allure of Hustling
It was this struggle for money and power that created Jackson’s desire become a success, and he demonstrated this throughout the book. He gives several examples of how hustling and drug dealing were some of the only options he had due to where he grew up and the environment that surrounded him.

What I was being told back then about getting money didn’t make any sense to me. I was already having a hard time in school, but I was supposed to stay in school for another six years – without college. With college, I was looking at ten years easy. So after a decade, I’d be able to get a good job and work and get the things I wanted. But when I looked around the neighborhood, I saw people who were getting the things they wanted in six months from hustling. Hustling didn’t seem like one of the options, it seemed like the only option.

Formal schooling wasn’t necessary for me. It had lost whatever attraction it held about the time I copped my first brick from Carlos. From that, I learned the most important numbers for my day. I could break down a kilogram of cocaine into ounces, grams, or any combination of the two. That’s how I learned my fractions and metric conversion, through real-life applications.

Aunt Karen’s husband, Uncle Trevor, did little things for me, and he wasn’t even a blood relative. Trevor always had something for me every time we crossed paths . I didn’t understand it; in my eyes, Uncle Trevor was just a nice guy who made some money and shared it with people around him. Even after Trevor got locked up and was sentenced to thirteen years, I never saw him as a bad person. One time, he was so far as to get my grandmother a brand-new 190E Mercedes-Benz, because her Oldsmobile was always breaking down.

These were the only people I ever saw who were able to do anything for anyone outside of themselves – and they were all hustling drugs. All of the hustlers were generous . Sincere was the main one who looked out for me. When I was with him, I saw that everyone treated him with respect. The store owners greeted him like family, and all the hustlers looked up to him. I liked the feeling I got when I was with Sincere. There was no way you could tell me that hustling was a bad thing. These were the people I saw as I grew up. They were my role models.

Anyone who stands on the corner stands there in the entrepreneurial spirit because they really don’t want to be working for anyone. The ultimate goal is to work for yourself, but the first is to look good. They see the fly shit to wear and they splurge on that so they’ll feel better about how bad shit is in the ‘hood. The clothes not only make the man, but they help him to escape.

I knew I had made my own decisions and maybe I didn’t always make the right choice, but I wanted my child to have more options than I had. I mean, I was hustling so that I wouldn’t have to hustle anymore. I sure as hell didn’t want my kid growing up thinking that hustling was the only thing to do. I didn’t want to be one of those parents on the “do as I say, not as I do” tip. I knew too well how alluring the drug game could be. I know that one of the reasons I had fallen into it so easily was because I watched my mother do it.

Jackson tells stories about drug dealers who were his “role models” because they “were the only people I ever saw who were able to do anything for anyone outside of themselves.” He refers to hustlers as having a kind of “entrepreneurial spirit” by comparing the available choices of his community, thus showing that dealing drugs was a better opportunity where he came from than going to school or getting a good job. However, he seems now to view this perception with regret, as he “had fallen into it so easily because I watch my mother do it,” and wants his son to “have more options than I had.”

Law Enforcement
While analyzing his environment and the drug game it helped to create, Jackson made many interesting evaluations of the local law enforcement and its actions to help create this environment.

Red came up with the plan to bring in outside guns while he was serving time upstate in Elmira. Like most correctional facilities, Elmira was a place where inmates actually became better criminals.

But it was a shock-and-awe campaign without the follow-through of a proper occupation plan. It wasn’t part of a process and it wasn’t a genuine change in approach. It wouldn’t, couldn’t last because it didn’t deal with what was really going on in the community. Dealers were dealing because we needed money. The fiends needed drugs. And without jobs or viable options, that was how it was going to stay.

The rookie’s murder was front-page news all over the nation and kicked the War on Drugs into high gear. Mandatory minimum drug sentences and federal sentencing guidelines had already been established in the years before, but then came the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1988, which called for a federal death penalty for “drug kingpins” and ensured that convicted drug offenders would serve at least 85 percent of their jail sentences. This also led to the creation of police units like the Tactical Narcotics Team (TNT) and the Street Narcotics Enforcement Unit, which gave the police an unprecedented amount of power to deal with street hustlers.

But no jobs. Without jobs, all the crackdown did was to help create a more resourceful, resilient breed of drug dealer. If the ‘hood was cocaine, then the rookie cop’s murder was baking soda. And an angry police force was the fire that cooked up new hustlers. Hustlers like me.

Cops make me uncomfortable. It’s not a positive thing to see them. Usually, when they’re around, they’re around to take me or somebody around me to jail. The police department isn’t there to de-escalate a situation. They’re there to clean up the mess. After somebody’s killed, they want to find out who shot the dead guy. They don’t want to get information before it happens to stop it from happening. That only happens on TV.

Jackson’s ability to critique the actions of the police and show their responsibility for a part of the negativity impressed and astounded me. It’s this kind of community commentary that leads to positive change. Jackson talks about law enforcement’s “War on Drugs,” and shows how “all the crackdown did was to help create a more resourceful, resilient breed of drug dealer.”

History 
In fact, Jackson used this technique many times throughout the course of his autobiography. He made several great points by backing his thoughts up while reciting several stories of historical significance.

There was heroin, which came from morphine, which came from opium. Opium was around before Jesus. It was big in Asia, Europe, and the Middle East – they used it as medicine. Morphine hasn’t been around as long. It was made as a painkiller at the beginning of the nineteenth century by a German physician who named it after Morpheus, the Greek god of dreams. In Vietnam War movies, when a solider gets all shot up, he’ll be in some serious pain. After the guy gets the morphine, that’s it. No more pain. He goes all peaceful, right into the arms of Morpheus.

In 1863, Italians used cocaine to make a wine that even the pope loved so much that he rave about its ability to “spark the divinity of the soul,” or something like that. Twenty years later, Sigmund Freud, the father of modern psychology, called coke “magical” and couldn’t get enough of the stuff – he didn’t even stick to the wine. He went for the raw white – snorted it, injected it, painted it on his skin. At the time, cocaine was a wonder drug, a stimulant and painkiller that cured everything from impotency to masturbation and was used as a surgical anesthetic. Some guy started making the wine in Atlanta, but then Prohibition came around, so he took out the alcohol and renamed it Coca-Cola.

Back then, Queens, which is big enough to be America’s fifth-largest city, was a haven for relatively successful blacks. Harlem, New York City’s original Negro mecca, was deteriorating under the pressure of all the blacks who were coming up from the South and seeking opportunity in the big city. The former slaves decided to spread out from their little corner of New York, past lower Manhattan (which even then was too expensive for most people), and rested across the water, underneath the trees growing in Brooklyn. But then Brooklyn itself became too near to the madness of inner-city strife. So it was that Queens emerged as home to some pretty notable Negroes. In the earliest part of the twentieth century, there was Lewis Latimer, the inventor who expanded on the lightbulb created by his former mentor, Thomas Edison, by creating and patenting the carbon filament. Later, in the 1950s, Queens was home to jazz legends like John Birks “Dizzy” Gillespie, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, William “Count” Basie, and baseball giant Jackie Robinson.

Sincere told me that powdered cocaine was on its way out. Everyone was moving on to selling and smoking little cooked rocks; the pieces provided the quick high of freebase cocaine. Up until then, mostly white people were freebasing, burning coke in spoons or pieces of foil. They cooked it with bleach, ammonia, or some other shit that you clean the house with that stinks. But that could fry a motherfucker’s face. That’s how Richard Pryor burned himself up, man. The new cooked rocks Sincere was talking about didn’t involve dealing with flammable household cleaners or anything like that. He said that the profit margin wasn’t as much as selling straight powder and that you couldn’t get over with cutting the coke with lactose and Ajax and all that shit to stretch it out, but you could make up for it with volume because motherfuckers loved it. Users would be coming back in fifteen minutes like they ain’t just smoked. Sincere said he was selling it mostly to white people coming in from Long Island, but the black folk were starting to get in on it, too. The blacks would mix it with their weed and smoke it, and they loved the buzz. He said it started out in the Bahamas, then it spread to Miami, then it was coming from L.A., man. It was all over the place: Chicago, Detroit, San Diego, Minnesota, Boston, San Francisco . He was like a scholar, explaining that there had been so much cocaine in the Bahamas that they took to making it into freebase to get rid of it quicker. They were soaking it in kerosene and acid and mixing it with limestone.

In these examples, Jackson told his versions of the history of Queens, heroin, morphine, cocaine and crack. His ability to share this knowledge with his readers not only made the book more interesting, but also strengthened his ability to share his ideas by creating a historical or intellectual backdrop.

Social Philosophy
Curtis Jackson uses many of his reflections to share his own thoughts, feelings and philosophies with the readers. I view this as perhaps the most important feature of his autobiography, as a kind of urban social philosophy that can help the majority better understand the principles and ideals of urban culture throughout the United States. Below are excerpts from some of his views on death, people, business and change.

Death 
Anyone who’s been as close to dying as 50 Cent has to have some different views on both life and death. He seems to have come to acceptance with death, and it definitely shows in his views and opinions.

After I got shot nine times at close range and didn’t die, I started to think that I must have a purpose in life, like, I have to be here for a reason.

I don’t necessarily view death as something negative. Death gives meaning to life. Living in fear of death is living in denial. Actually, it’s not really living at all, because there is no life without death. It’s two sides of the one. You can’t just pick one side and say, “I’m just going to use the ‘heads’ side.” No. It doesn’t work like that. You have to pick up both sides because nothing is promised to anyone in this world besides death.

I don’t look at death as something to work against; it makes your time here worthwhile. It’s what makes life precious. Death provides purpose. It ensures that every situation that comes in life comes for a reason. It’s like you have somewhere to go and things to do before you die, and life is always trying to push you to that goal. It’s the things we go through that make us who we are. That’s why I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in this world – I know I have a purpose. The hard times only seemed hard when I was going through them. Now, they’re just memories. Besides, if I didn’t go through the hard times, I probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy the good times.

Jackson views death as somewhat of a necessary positive, which “provides purpose” and “makes your time here worthwhile.” While many people fear death, Jackson seems to thrive on it, racing against the end in an attempt to accomplish whatever he can while he’s here.

People 
Jackson also demonstrates interesting views on different types of people, especially those viewed with a lesser status among the majority class.

It’s a simple fact that when white people pop up in my neighborhood, they’re usually there to take us to jail. I definitely don’t have anything against white people, but in that environment, when we see them, the first thing we look to think is, “Are they police?” Once we realize they’re not the police, they’re cool with us. And probably in their environments, they see us and they look and think, “Are they up to something?” And then after they figure out that we’re not up to anything, we’re alright with them. It’s the same shit. Being racist and being realistic are two different things.

Dealers don’t break people. People break themselves. The dealers just make use of the pieces because there’s nothing else for them to take advantage of. Drug dealers aren’t predators. They’re scavengers, circling overhead like vultures waiting for the last light of life to be gone from their mark. Only then will they swoop down and feast on the remains.

In many ways, the dealers are as addicted as the fiends. We count on them for our livelihood. It’s like politicians. Most politicians don’t have any respect for the people who vote for them and they feel like they’re above their voters. But come election time, they’re at the voters’ mercy.

Truth is, there’s no such thing as a “gangsta rapper,” because no one can be a gangsta and a rapper at the same time. A rapper can have gangsta ties, he can know gangstas, but he can’t be a gangsta. He has to be an artist if he’s going to be an artist.

A gangsta will always side up with a weak party who needs them for strength. That’s because most gangstas haven’t developed their talents. Instead, they take advantage of people who have talent through fear. The fear factor allows a weak artist to hang with gangstas, to make the stories he puts on a record sound real. If someone’s whole gangsta backstory is a lie, he’s going to try to make it look like it’s real by standing next to someone who may have had those experiences. But that doesn’t mean you’re down with gangstas. That just means you’re getting extorted by gangstas.

In the jungle, combat comes with its own rituals: hissing, roaring, chest beating, marking of territory, all sorts of shit to serve as warnings. For the most part, no wild animal wants to engage in unnecessary mortal combat – it would rather scare off an opponent or escape a predator. It’s pretty much the same on the streets.

In these examples, Jackson discusses racial profiling, drug dealers, users, gangsters and gangster rappers in a way that relates them to the mentality of the streets. I found it interested that he was able to point out the difference between racism and realism based on the stereotypes of black and white Americans.

Business
Perhaps my favorite of Jackson’s thoughts were his business and economic theories based on his experiences in inner city life. It’s amazing that a person can learn so much about business through hustling.

Sometimes my aunts would throw dollar parties in the backyard, where they charged their friends one dollar to come into the backyard and party . Those parties were my earliest experiences in marketing. They were also the first time I got to see how hip-hop affected people. A lot of times, they played old soul grooves and everyone just played it real cool. But when a hip-hop song came on, the party really got jumping. The guys would all start rapping with the music, and the girls would break out into little dance routines. There would always be a few guys who were really into it, who would start pop-locking and break dancing.

There’s no brand loyalty in the drug game. It’s like a trickle-up policy: The fiends will cop from whoever’s around or whoever will give them the best deal. If you let a fiend get over with a short – like giving him a dime for nine dollars – he’ll come back to you, not because he’s loyal but because he’s looking for a bargain. If someone else lets him get over with shorts, he’s gonna forget about you before he lights his pipe. That’s what it is, demand and supply. I think it’s taught backward in school. There, it’s “supply and demand,” where companies come up with a whole bunch of shit and supply it. Then the companies fool the people into thinking that they need the shit they’re pushing, thereby creating an artificial demand. But the streets figure it correctly: The demand comes first, and whoever has the supply will profit.

Jackson makes it clear that he has been so successful as an artist and businessman because of the things he learned in the streets. I really enjoyed reading his “trickle-up” economic philosophy, which just happens to be almost exactly opposite to the Reagan-era trickle down theory accepted by most of the upper class of this country, probably because it makes them rich and keeps everyone else poor. Perhaps 50 Cent’s theory would in practice put the rich on a lower level.

Change 
Yet despite all his unique views and the reality of his negative environment, Curtis Jackson remains optimistic about his life and future. He seems to rely on the continuation of his success in order to continue to change and grow into a better person.

I really don’t care who dislikes me or why. I don’t waste energy on that mess. I got to be about mine. That might sound selfish, but it’s real. I’m not going to be that asshole that got in this position and still jumped out the window ’cause he couldn’t make the pieces fit. I don’t want to be the same way as I was out in the street.

For me, music is everything. It’s my opportunity to get away from the ‘hood, to make a better life for my son, to do everything I ever wanted to do. And I’m putting my all into it. You can’t meet your goals by accident. That’s like thinking you’re going to hit the lottery, but you’re not buying a ticket. I have to treat this like I treated the block. It’s a damn shame, but I have to internalize things in a negative way to understand them. I look at things from a street mentality because that’s what I understand.

My story has to be an inspiration to people that’s from the bottom, people that’s from the same walks of life I’m from. I’m proof that success is possible.

Japan was the first time I ever got to see music break the language barrier. There were people singing my songs in the club, word for word. But when the music stopped, I couldn’t talk to them because they spoke another language.

Jackson seems to recognize more love and unity, understanding how his music can “break the language barrier” and “be an inspiration to people that’s from the bottom.” He is now more content to let things slide, as he doesn’t “want to be the same way as I was out on the street.”

I’m actually glad that 50 Cent didn’t go into detail on many aspects of his life: The shooting, his mother, ongoing rapper beef, or any of that stuff. We hear enough of that. Every time we turn on the TV, pick up a paper, or walk out on the streets. And it’s sickening that people actually have the audacity to diss 50 Cent based on his attempts to keep this information from us.

In my opinion, regardless of what most of the other reviewers said, the autobiography of Curtis Jackson is a great success. Not only did he reflect upon his past and present with honor and dignity, but he explained his attempts to learn from his past, and in doing so, to make a better future for himself and those around him. And that is better to me than what everyone else seemed to be yearning for, some glorified recreation of the negativity of his past.

Bakari Kitwana “Why White Kids Love Hip Hop: Wankstas, Wiggers, Wannabes, and the New Reality of Race in America” Book Review
The problem with reviewing hiphop books is that I also have to review the people reviewing them. See, a lot of those big-time-for-whatever-reason book critics try to jump into the hip-hop scene every once in a while to give their uninformed opinions and poke fun at hip-hop culture. It’s like they’re hiding behind a tree whispering about you at the country club or something.

And what’s worse, these reviewers get early copies of books for, yup, reviewing. This is often weeks to months before the rest of us have the opportunity to buy them at our local bookstores. So by the time Hip-Hop Linguistics got around to reading Bakari Kitwana’s “Why White Kids Love Hip Hop: Wankstas, Wiggers, Wannabes, and the New Reality of Race in America,” it had already been dissed many times … hard.

Now if you’ve ever read anything on this site, you’ll know how we feel about the mainstream’s attempts to cover and review hip-hop music and culture. If you haven’t, well basically, it sucks. Not just because they cover only the events or material that enforces their own agendas, but also because they are obviously, almost blatantly, under informed about hip-hop. It reminds me of Damon Wayans’ prison character on In Living Color who didn’t understand what he read. He’d walk around using all these big words out of context and sounding like a fool. That’s what a lot of Kitwana’s critics sounded like.

Elitist Humor and Blatant Misunderstanding
Publisher’s Weekly’s review of Kitwana’s book started with the following sentence: “Caucasian parents anxiously seeking explanations for either the descending waistlines of their children’s trousers or the distressing contents of their iPods won’t find them in Kitwana’s repetitive, digressive and rather dated book …” It then goes on to say that “Kitwana’s belief in hip-hop’s liberatory potential belongs more to the era of an engaged Fear of a Black Planet than the bling of The Game.”

To me, these statements show an obvious attempt to criticize with no backing, except perhaps the images seen and accepted as accurate on TV. What does “distressing contents of their iPods” or “descending wastelines of trousers” have to do with hip-hop? Who is the Game and what does he have to do with this era? And there’s that damn bling word again. PB’s undoubtedly been watching a little too much MTV.

In short, I feel the majority of negative reviews of this book were based around this type of elitist humor and misunderstanding. These people’s only concept of hip-hop is the materialistic gangster images shown on television. Therefore, when Kitwana talks about real hip-hop from the perception of a person immersed in it as a worldview and lifestyle, they can’t understand. When he views it as a unifying force with real political agendas and aspirations, they can’t see. When he tells them that what they see on TV is a repackaged and represented spin off of hip-hop, they don’t believe it.

In reality, Bakari Kitwana’s “Why White Kids Love Hip-Hop” was actually more of a manifesto. A call to arms among the ever-increasing hip-hop population, white and black, to push their views into this country’s political realm. Kitwana even goes as far as to point out many of the movement’s agendas. I felt that he did a great job analyzing this country’s abandonment of its youth, and the effects it could have on the future of such public policy issues as education, employment, healthcare, criminal justice and foreign policy. In addition, Kitwana’s interpretation of the conflict between old and new racial politics was amazing, and points to this country’s obvious adherence to old racist policies and views.

“Why White Kids Love Hip-Hop” also included great amounts of interesting journalistic research. From interviews with white hip-hop kids all over the country and film reviews of movies immersed in new racial politics, to analyses of the social factors behind the hip-hop movement and the holes in the statistical system that deems white kids to be the vast majority of hip-hop music consumers, Kitwana put a lot of library hours in while preparing for this book.

But what I really liked about the book was its optimism and hope for the future. Kitwana’s passion for hip-hop and almost spiritual belief in its abilities to span the boundaries of race or social standing was inspiring, even if all the haters will view it as overly hopeful or fool hearted.

Hip-Hop as a Worldview
I am one of those people, like Kitwana, who sees hip-hop as more of a system of beliefs or worldview. All my beliefs, from social, political and economic philosophies to love, inspiration and accomplishment, revolve around hip-hop and the principles it has instilled in me. Like Kitwana, I see the possibilities of hip-hop political activism and an international human rights movement. And like Kitwana, I believe the hip-hop generation needs to mobilize and make itself heard, even if it must begin on the local level. If these critics can’t make an attempt to understand or respect that, then that’s their problem.

I think everyone into hip-hop as a worldview and culture should read this book. For those of you who don’t like to read, I have included a brief outline below, which should summarize the major points of “Why White Kids Love Hip-Hop.”

I. Preface – “Can culture exclusively belong to one race in the first place?”

a. The national conversation about race in this country has yet to catch up with the national reality.
b. Hip-hop as mainstream popular culture has radically altered the racial landscape … dawning a new reality of race in America.
c. Most young people who identify with hip-hop identify with more than music.
d. “Old Racial Politics” – Adherence to stark cultural differences – cultural, personal and political – between Black and white.
e. “New Racial Politics” – The effects of commerce and commercialism and a sort of fluidity between cultures.
f. The old ideas about race continue to undermine attempts to redefine the terms of race through hip-hop.

II. Introduction – Toward a New Racial Politics

a. Transcending the old racial politics is essential to discovering new strategies for working across historical divides like race, class and nationalism.
b. Many hip-hop fans are engaging in hip-hop on a deeper, cerebral level. Theirs is a constant struggle not only to absorb the art, politics and cultural roots of hip-hop but to make sense of its significance in their lives.
c. The true story of America in the post-1970s era is the tale of how we as a nation have abandoned our young:

i. Lower emphasis on educating or listening to American youth.
ii. Jobs for youth have diminished in quality and quantity.
iii. Primary government solutions have been incarceration and medication.

d. Hip-hop is the response to the reckless abandonment of young people in this country.
e. The cultural movement is making way for hip-hop’s emerging political movement, and maybe the catalyst necessary to jump-start an international human rights movement.

III. Part One – Questions

a. Do White Boys Want to Be Black?

i. This conclusion is an oversimplification.
ii. More young whites are abandoning old apprehensions about young blacks and embracing black youth culture.

IV. Why White Kids Love Hip-Hop

a. The Rise of the Global Economy and Alienation (1980s)

i. Americans, regardless of race and class, feeling uncertain.
ii. Wages continued to fall; poor got poorer, rich got richer.
iii. Longer workdays for parents meant less family time.
iv. Rise in prescription drug use for depression and anxiety.

b. Ruptures in the Popular Music Scene (1900s)

i. Whites drawn to hip-hop early were not in it for the arts alone. It was an appealing antiestablishment culture.
ii. Many whites had left-leaning tendencies or at least sympathized with black issues.
iii. Hip-hop gave youth a voice to tell the truth and exposed the ills of society, especially racism and our hypocritical government.
iv. Hip-hop was as much a political statement as an alternative music choice.

c. The Economy and White Privilege (2000 and beyond)

i. The upper-middle-class lifestyle remained unattainable for most.
ii. Rising college costs far outdistanced inflation.
iii. Government seemed more a tool of the superrich than one of, for and by the people.
iv. Some of the hardest economic changes for middle-class Americans in nearly a century.
v. Significant numbers of white youth channel this intensifying sense of alienation into a fascination with hip-hop culture and it’s escapist messages.

d. Institutionalizing Civil Rights Culture

i. Incorporation of the history of the civil rights movement into elementary and high school curriculums and college classrooms.
ii. Connecting the civil rights movement to America’s ideal of freedom and justice for all.
iii. Helped familiarize white kids with distant or unknown aspects of black culture.

e. The Impact of Black Popular Culture

i. Urban and suburban black images on television.
ii. What comes out of the corporate hip-hop industry is packaged and sold as hip-hop, but it is a distortion of hip-hop culture.

V. Identity Crisis?

a. Contains interviews with older white hip-hop kids.
b. MTV has gotten behind those artists who represent the one small fraction that degrades and humiliates black culture.

VI. Erasing Blackness

a. The rarely disputed “fact” that white suburban youth constitute hip-hop primary audience does not have a real source. Even harder to find would be a demographic study that substantiates it.
b. Soundscan based more on subjective analysis:

i. Equating income areas with race.
ii. Overhyped idea of the digital divide – that black Americans are locked out of the information superhighway.

VII. Part Two – Answers

a. Hip-hop has profound things to tell us about race, if we dare to listen.

VIII. Wankstas, Wiggers and Wannabes

a. Reviews films dealing with the new reality of race in America:

i. Black and White, Bulworth and Malibu’s Most Wanted
ii. Four issues central to the phenomenon of white kids engaging in hip-hop culture:

1. Parody
2. Appropriation
3. Generation Gap
4. Interracial Dating

IX. Fear of a Culture Bandit

a. Talks about the Source and Eminem beef as a collision between America’s old and new racial politics.
b. Eminem from socioeconomic background not vastly different than that of many black rappers, and a victim of America’s education policies.
c. Em represented new racial politics – while his attacks come straight out of the playbook of old racial politics.

X. Coalition Building Across Race

a. White, Black, Asian and Latino youth are forming alliances and coalitions crucial to the future of the republic.
b. Hip-hop politics is arguably one of the few political spaces to have emerged in the past three decades where any real potential exists for challenging prevailing public policy approaches to issues like education, criminal justice, employment, health care and foreign policy.
c. There will be no substantial hip-hop political movement that doesn’t include white hip-hop kids.
d. Hip-hop is a natural gateway to activism.
e. Bottom or local enforced leadership necessary for national success of hip-hop political campaign.