The Second Amendment Lives on!!

Many of you may not be aware, (I sure as hell wasn’t), that today in D.C., the Supreme Court was interpreting the true meaning of the 2^nd Amendment.  For those not up to par on their amendment verbatim, the 2^nd amendment states: “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.”  In a case brought to the Supreme Court due to Washington D.C.’s strict (and now struck down) 32 year ban on guns, the Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional for citizens to be forbidden from owning a gun for purposes of self-defense. (more…)

It may come as quite a shock to some of you, but rappers tend to get into trouble with the law almost as much as young white Hollywood starlets. Unlike those silly starlets, however, there seems to be a massive conspiracy put forth by the powers that be, The Man, Dr. Yacub, Lyor Cohen, Hillary Clinton, Barrack Obama, Oprah, Bill Cosby, Yahweh, The Bilderburg Convention, Dick Cheney, Laura Bush, Fidel Castro, Tony Blair and Yemeya, to hold your favorite rappers back from their true potential. Or, so says Remy Ma. (more…)

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.
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I was shuffling through the old ipod the other day when I happened across “Dreams” from Lil Kim’s first pussy popping rap opus Hardcore. Not having listened to Hardcore in a while, I started listened to the album in its entirety at which point I had bit of an ah ha! moment. For awhile I had been musing the hypersexualization of women; this past decade has without a doubt seen an explosion in women not just celebrating their sexuality, but going above and beyond sexual ownership and and empowerment and becoming, in many cases vapid empty vessels purely of sex. Not sensuality, not seduction, but raw, unobstructed sex.
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Dear Marion,

Hi Suge! It’s me, greenie. Its been awhile since we last spoke Suga Bear. You don’t mind that I call you Suga Bear do you? I mean as much as we go back, you should be cool with my affectionate nickname. I mean, shit… I was down with Death Row from the word go. My domicile may have been on the Eastern seaboard, but lets be honest, back in the early 90s ain’t nann body paid attention to the South, and I was never riding for the Northern team, regardless of our coastal sharing. I was never afraid of you in the way most fans and rappers were. I recall saying aloud once after Pac died, “Fuck a Suge Knight!” and a friend of mine quickly hushing me, lest you hear such foul utterance- in spite of the entire span of the United States distancing us. I may never have actually gotten to west side until i was in my 20s, but thanks to you and the Death Row squad and affiliates, I felt like I spent most of teens there. You put together an umbrella that represented a unified front of west coast thuggery and music.

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The incomparably inspirational and pimptastic Texan Mac Brown and I were partaking in a conversational exchange the other day and he brought up the topic of ageism in Hip Hop; how rampant it is, and how most 25 year olds, if they haven’t made it yet- need to just walk away. after a brief moment of consideration, I had to agree. To generalize- mastery in most careers that human beings undertake take years to achieve. The best and brightest are often the oldest as they have spent years honing and perfecting their craft, Nature then deals a cruel twist of fate as many who finally gain enough knowledge and experience to be considered masters do so around the time their bodies start to fail; limbs grow weak, minds feeble. Yet and still– you start young, and master old. Unless, of course, you want to a rapper when you grow up. If you want to be rapper, you must start young, master young and quit before you’re 35 lest you be ridiculed as the feeble, out of touch old man, a has been, or worse a barely made it but never really was.

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*ahem* A preemptive ayo for those lacking the maturity to read further.  

A few weeks ago, I had a day off after several weeks hellish workdays which including the sacrifice if weekend. Since I was finally free, and it was 80 degrees, I said a mental fuck you to my northern fam (sorry y’all, you know, deep down, I love you) and took my happy ass to the beach. Packed a book, some lotion and planned to relax.  The book I packed was called Hung, by Scott Paulson Bryant; I had picked up months ago, just never got around to reading it. That day it happened to be on the top of stacks, so it got lucky and got grabbed. (more…)

Losing, in a general sort of way, sucks. When you put your all on the line, go for something you want so bad you could taste, when you have in your sights something that you feel you were destined for. Watching your dreams and hopes dissolve into a puddle of lost hope, it hurts.

In rare cases, people with wisdom see the writing on the wall and devise a way to bow out gracefully, saving the pride and respect and preserving the dream for a later date, when the stars are perhaps aligned more in their favor. Unfortunately, the majority of people walking around today lack wisdom and foresight. Instead, when they feel the ground crumbling beneath them, they react.  In most cases, those reactions are desperate attempts to regain their footing, painful attempted to lash out and dig holes at beneath others, so all sink together.  (more…)

Hip Hop has seemingly found legitimacy, not just as a musical art form but as a derivative culture. The Hip Hop Diaspora has spawned sub genres of art forms from theater to visual art that have staked claims within so called legitimate venues for classical arts.

The Smithsonian in Washington DC is offering an exhibit featuring portraits of Rap music icons hung in the National Portrait gallery- next to the likes of George Washington. Detroit’s Museum of Contemporary Art is also presenting a 12 piece exhibition by  Russian-born American painter Alexander Melamid: Holy Hip-Hop! New Paintings by Alex Melamid. Major theatrical institutions are commissioning and producing works by artist from the Hip Hop Diaspora.  Corporate behemoths have long recognized the marketing value of usurping Hip Hop images and hiring rappers and other Hip Hip figure heads as spokesfolk, all adding t the legitimacy of Hip Hp and its commercial market share.

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It was supposed to be epic. The director was already a legend. A visionary credited with transforming  how people watch music, a visual savant. The cast was littered with emerging and established members of the hip hop glitterati. There was a story- full of drugs, sex, guns and redemption. It was supposed to define a generation. Instead…. it was just Belly.

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