No doubt many of you have been observing the battle royale of Alumnah’s March April madness. The battle and judging took its toll on the Alumnah staff, the comments you, our dear readers left in the comments were nothing short of the name calling and beefing going o behind the scenes. Ty Biggs is still tied up under my bed (not like that you pervs). If for no other reason, that level of response, both internally and from you all was the greatest indicator that our little attempt at a kinda cool idea was a success. We want hate, love is nice too. Had you all ignored us; had we played nice and ho hummed our way throughout – it would have been an exercise in futility; and indicator that perhaps all the stories of Hip Hops demise were in fact true.
I for one am blissfully happy about all the blood splattered and tears spilled during this exercise, and not just because I’m kinda kinky.  You all gave a Phuque.  We did too. Why are we so passionate about an art form that we so willingly call deceased? To most of us under 35, Hip Hop is all we know; we grew up in and have it is as much as part of our cultural heritage as a familial food that grandma used to make or Big Bird. We out  grew Big Bird, saw the conspiracy theories and racism laden in Disney and the Smurfs (ask Mr. Scribe), yet Hip Hop remains the most enduring cultural element that has grown with us; it’s the fairy tales of our generation. At its best, Hip Hop offers us tales of redemption, warming us like a Rey of sunlight. At its worst, it is victim of its, and our, own hubris, stifling and freezing.

Hip Hop is the tie that binds us; it is ingrained in our DNA, our progeny will be born to the rhythm of our beats, lyrics dripping as naturally from their tongues as breast milk. It evolves and grows as we do. It stumbles and falls and fux around like we do. Whether we were the originators or it hit us in ‘88, every step we’ve taken, every bit of knowledge we’ve gleaned from it, about it, has contributed to the brain trust that gives Hip Hop life. Hip Hop isn’t the commercial rap music industry.  It isn’t an iced out neck, spinning rim or clapping ass. It isn’t what Jay Z says is cool or KRS ONE says is wack. Hip Hop is all that and more. It is ingenuity and revolution. It evolves and morphs and stays on the cutting edge. If it’s not growing, it’s not Hip Hop.  If you’re one of Dem motherfuckers saying Hip Hop’s dead, chances are you aren’t really all that Hip Hop.

If you paid attention to our little battle and thought we were flaming idiots from that planet Idiotanus from the galaxy Stupidia, you’re Hip Hop. If you aren’t Hip Hop, you probably stopped reading 4 paragraphs ago. Either way, I salute you, thanks for stopping by and keep Hip Hop alive by keeping your on revolution alive. Push the envelope, step on ties, rock the boat and say fuck you to the status quo. That’s Hip Hop.