The Hip Hop Generation. We need to go to church

"......the skies over your head ain't safe no more, and Hip Hop ain't ya home....and if it is you fucking up the crib son." - Plug 2 "Trying People"

The First Hip Hop album I bought was Dj Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince - "Parent's Just Don't Understand." I must have been 7 or 8. That was the beginning. Fresh Prince was the first cool rapper out there. He made simple songs that made a lot of fucking sense. "Girls of the World Ain't Nothing But Trouble", "Parent's Just Don't Understand", "You Saw my Blinker Bitch". It was the late 80's, Rakim had begun to show the way and KRS and Boogie Down was holding it down, but I wasn't on those guys yet. Fresh Prince was talking about shit that was on my level at the moment....and he KNEW WHAT THE FUCK HE WAS TALKING ABOUT. Don't get things twisted with you know...Men In Black remixes from 80's songs and you know Wild Wild West..Wild Wild West....yeah that shit was wack. But when Prince was in his prime he was a Genius.

This isn't gonna be about how Hip Hop has lost its way, or we need to get back to this era, or how Lil Wayne has ruined Hip Hop. Frankly I'm tired about hearing about the good old days. They were good. They were great. The 90's shaped us. It was a marvelous rotten decade that will live in infamy. But who is to say what they meant? Did the ruin us and make us rotten as well? We're talking about the OJ Simpson Era here. We was gettin AWAY with shit!!!! We was killing white bitches and they boyfriends and getting away with it. We had come to a point in our history where we had the money to be equal in the blind eye of the law. We had rappers who were actually shooting police and getting away with it. Getting bailed out of jail for 1.2 million dollars by a record company. Out of all this madness there was something beautiful going on. Music - Hip Hop and R&B especially - saw a spark that burned hard for years. To this day....This is gonna be about the effect the music had on our generation. The good and the bad.

to be continued.....

The Industry - Pt.1

"The movie business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side."
- Hunter S. Thompson


When I was a kid movies were my thing. I didn't make home videos and little productions with my friends. I wasn't president of a movie club or anything. I was however completely obsessed with the world of a movie and on some levels believed that I was living out my own movie. I loved movies about legends and I wanted to become one. I did on some levels become a legend....but not in a very good way. Instead of becoming famous I became infamous....which is how it had to happen I guess. I had no idea that one day I would actually be working in the movie business. It never occurred to me to work in movies - movies were a dream, they were magic - not an industry people making a living. I never lost that movie magic feeling.......although I know quite differently now.

The first movie I worked on I was an unpaid Location Scout. I found the gig on craigslist (of course) and was happy to get it. I was dead broke. The job didn't pay anything but I had nowhere to go but up so I took it. I also had a side job at Cafe Fresh on Broadway in Harlem near Columbia University. The Bitch who ran it was a racist Hungarian. Her two retard sons gave me the job and ended up screwing me out of two weeks pay after I cussed out their bitch mother. She claimed that I had stolen $600 from the register. I wish I had jacked those muh fuckas now......its been years but I still think about dropping a rat or two in their doorway and just running away....anyway I took the location scout job hoping for brighter skies working in my field. I worked for the Location Manager, a white cat named Alex that was younger than me. He had been working in movies for about 3-4 years and still hadn't finished school. Alex and his mom stayed in the Upper East Side. Alex was the bread winner and took care of the both of them on what he made in movies. He was the usual uptight Upper west side cracker you would expect - but he was about his business and he looked out for me later on. It was our job to scout locations for the movie we were working on "Lost". We worked mostly in Brooklyn and Queens but a few nights we shot in the city. Mostly I would go around to these locations and feed back information to Alex. Sometimes I would have to go down to the Mayor's office of film, theatre and broadcasting to get permits. For no pay it was a lot of fucking work. I was starting to get pissed until Alex told me that there was a job that he needed me to do that he could pay me under the table for. At that point I didn't give a fuck what it was as long as it gave me some cheese. The job was to stay on set all night in the equipment truck and make sure nobody fucks with the set. The set would be an entire street where we had set up construction cones to make sure no one parked there. Of course people don't give a fuck about that and the ones that do always seem to miss the 20 bulletins we put up throughout the neighborhood. In order to prevent a scene nobody wanted in the morning when it was time to shoot someone had to stay on set all night....in the middle of winter...inside the equipment truck...in some abandoned neighborhood in the middle of New York. The job paid $100 a night so I told him I was down for that shit.

I'm glad I never I went to a formal film school. When I was in college I remember the teachers basically telling us we were on our own once we graduated. There was no set path they said. You just gotta go and make it happen. We had a great Faculty though. The sad thing is the really talented students ended up staying in Kansas while all the jerks and assholes moved to LA or NY and got busy. We had a cool class though - most of us......Artists are generally assholes though. It's a good thing...but not always.

The first night I stayed on set I brought enough weed for 2 days. I had my Ipod and had gotten dinner and snacks for later. The equipment or "cube" truck is huge. Driving it around New York narrow ass streets was a disaster waiting to happen. There's been incidents....... however tonight I managed to get to my spot no problem. I smoked out most of the night and jammed to my Ipod having a blast. I've always been a night owl so for me it was dope. It was January so I ran the truck all night blasting the heat. On the first night I stayed up all night kicking it like I was throwing a party. The next night was a different location in Queens which was a more busy area. Alex dropped me off and I set out for another night of trees and music. An older woman came up to the truck and asked for a cigarette. I gave a her a few and she asked what I was doing. I told her about my job and what I had to do. She was.....intrigued. She was an early 40ish Latina probably from the DR. She was telling me about the Dominicans in the neighborhood and how I should be careful. I told her I would be and said peace. An hour later she comes back with some booze and joins me in the truck.

When you're working on the set of a movie production there's a certain hierarchy that has to be followed. Everyone going to film school wants to be the Director - but the Director would never get his job done without the 1st Assistant Director and 2nd Assistant Director. These are highly coveted positions being occupied by all those assholes that I mentioned before that I went to school with. Being an asshole is a pre-requisite for these positions because its their job to "run" the set. If you're smart you'll stay out of the 1st AD's way - or end up on the unemployment line. You have to watch what you say on a film set...and watch who you say it around. Don't trust the talent. Don't even fuck with the talent. The Talent is a bunch of Bitches.....and they WILL get you FIRED. Even if they are the coolest cats in the world - don't trust 'em. You can't trust the talent because in reality they run the set. Without the talent the show can't go on - and if a production is already been running for 2 months the actors can't be replaced - without losing millions of dollars. So if there is a problem between the talent and you....guess who's gonna get fired? The #1 basic rule of working on a film set is to treat everyone like they are your next meal ticket - because they just might be.

After a few shots my new name was Poppi and hers was Mamacita. She was a very open soul...a giver. She told me about her family throughout New York. She had a son not too much younger than me that was locked up for assault that she was really worried about. The cops had rushed her son when he was just hanging out on the block....didn't put the blunt out fast enough and got busted. We comforted each other in our grief over the tragedy of inner city injustices that plague the ghettos of New York. The truck was too small to make any real moves and her house was out. I couldn't take her anywhere so we hugged goodbye and she went home. The next day I thought about telling the Locations Manager about my adventure with the natives but I decided against it. He couldn't really be trusted either. Loose lips.....

I think about her every now and then. My little mamacita in Queens. I wonder if her son ever
got out.....

The "N" Word: Person, Race, or Thing?

"I say Nigga 100 times before breakfast. Keeps my teeth white."

-Paul Mooney

"....I start to flinch as I try not to say but

my lips is like oowop as I start to spray it...... "

-Q-Tip

"SHUT THE DO' NIGGA!!!"

My Dear Great Grandmother

-Rosa Lee Newsome

"There's a war going on. It's between Black People

and Niggas. And Niggas got to go."

-Chris Rock

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine recently. We were talking about the video news clip of The Intruder that has been going around the net lately. Somewhere in the woods of Alabama someone's house got broken into in the projects and attempted to rape one of the residents. Of course the camera crew managed to find the most ignorant people in a five mile radius of the scene of the crime to give their two cents of the event. What followed was pure comedy. Working in film I know for a fact that whoever edited this news clip together was dying from laughter. I asked my friend why they had to put the most ignorant niggas on tv? She told me that she didn't like that word and that it bothered her. She went on to say that she hadn't heard the word since College - other than from me. I was amazed....to say the least. Ever since then I've been thinking about the word and what it has meant to me. I started thinking how long had this word been on my tongue? How many times a day do I say it? The real mind blower was when she told me she had used it before - for a "period" - in high school. A period? In all seriousness......that might have been my first word.

A few days passed and the subject came up again. I understood not wanting to hear it and respected the fact that she didn't like the word. Of course it still slipped a few times. I suggested substituting the word for 'ninja' since one way or another it was bound to be uttered - purely out of habit. I asked her if she understood that there are actually real niggas out in the world. She asked "What does that mean?"

"What does that mean?"

I had a friend in High School named Hercules. Me and Herc came up together in church. His dad was a deacon or something like that. Before we started kicking it we were just kids in the church choir. I managed to get out of singing by helping out the sound engineer in the recording booth. I remember seeing this fool really being in to the song and singing hard. He moved back to North Carolina with his mom and I didn't see him again for 2 years. When he came back we started kicking it. We would smoke at lunch and mess with the girls around town. He was cool to kick it with because he always had some random chick that he met at a gas station on the other side of town to go see and we would kick it with them and get fucked up half the night. Eventually he got one of the girls pregnant. His dad, the fucking deacon and shit.....kicks him out in the street. He ends up having to move in with his Aunt in the middle of the hood....which just happened to be down the street from where we went to church at. After that his life basically went down hill. Almost instantly he became a kleptomaniac. I couldn't take him anywhere. He was always either on the run from someone he stole from or ducking someone he owed money to or doing what he did best - making new enemies. At the time I was dating this girl named Tracy. She was from out of town. Her friend was with her when she had come to visit. Herc bangs her friend the same night. We go to visit them a few weeks later and Herc robs the girl for her Nike boots and then he tries to jack my girl's CD player. I realize what he's done halfway home when I see him coming out of the bathroom with her boots on bobbing his head to whatever CDs he stole from the store in the CD player that he stole from my girl. Once we get back home I made sure to steal the CD player back. fuck that........I started to realize that maybe Herc wasn't the best friend to have around....He was always getting arrested for some dumb shit. He walked into a police raid with dope on him once. He would get caught stealing with dope on him. After I left for school I didn't see him much - if at all. The last time I actually spoke to him was when he called my grandma's house to try to get me to call whatever fucked up halfway house he was in and impersonate his father to get him a weekend pass. I told him to fuck off. I keep in contact with the mother of his child though. Go see the kid when I'm in town. My ex from high school told me that she seen him recently looking smoked out. Its sad really. Now he wasn't always a nigga. He became one.

None of us are really niggas though - but growing up you think that you are..and eventually you develop that mentality that's hard to break from..or at least where I grew up you did. The family members who raise you call you one. All your friends, cousins, associates, strangers...they all call you nigga. The music you listen to tells you that you are. I remember there was a rap song....no the whole album was named Niggaz 4 Life.

Its plain to see/you can't change me/ cuz I'ma be a nigga for life

Nigga isn't what he was, it's how he was thinking, which made him who he was.

He would rob cars from school parking lots. Keep 'em for days...He was a nigga....but he was my friend. I remember my other cousin once told me all he wanted to be remembered as was a "Real Ass Nigga". I remember thinking that shouldn't be too hard to accomplish.

"What does that mean?".......I didn't really know how to answer the question. I brought up my bike getting stolen a few days before but I was really just holding out. I thought.....maybe she doesn't need to know what I mean.....Maybe she shouldn't know.......because if she had to ask me then she must not know. My cousin from Atlanta once told me he didn't want to know the things he knew. The same cousin later on told me that he didn't have any friends. He said that if you was his friend he'd rob yo muh'fuckin ass. He wasn't joking. What does that mean??? Should I have laid the heavy shit on her? Should I have told her about my other cousin's baby daddy who's currently locked up on Federal Gun charges? When I was younger he worked at a food stand in Florida. He had just gotten out not too long before that. I asked him what he was in for. "Fucking niggas up." He wasn't lying. My other cousin once fell asleep in the club when I was with him. One of our girl cousins comes up and notices that he's sleep. She starts to go through his pockets. Finally she fishes out $20 and runs away. The next night I was out with my other female cousin. We're kicking it with her cousins from her dad's side. They all drop X. Later on that night my cousins realizes that her cousins just robbed her for her money while she was in the club. What does that mean?

I have another older female cousin. She grew up with my mom. She has three boys. The youngest one is currently locked up on Racketeering charges. I don't even know the amount of shit you have to be in to get charged with racketeering. He's only 21 and he's facing about 10 more years. The second oldest is locked up on murder charges. His second murder charge. Meaning that he got off before once...and now he's locked up for it again. The oldest just got out of jail for robbing a drug dealer. The last time I was there he came and picked me up. We go to pick up my other girl cousin and her kids to take them to the pool party. Along the way we make a few crack stops. Her loyal customers were waiting as we drove up. "I'll see you tomorrow" says the crack head who's missing a few crucial teeth. On the way to drop me off we end up going back over there later for another sale. Later that weekend me and the oldest son went out to get a drink in the next town of Sarasota. There's a small strip where everyone goes to hang out. While we're out there hanging out a guy comes up with a knowing smile and wraps his arm around my cousin. They appear to be old friends. They go off and talk for a minute while I'm standing there wishing I was back in New York. After we leave my cousin tells me the guy that came up to him set him up for a drug bust. The guy had just got out of jail so he planted the drugs on my cousin to get out of a possession charge. My cousin had to do a year for it. "He really respects me."

What does that Mean?

I love my family. It may seem that I'm judging them but I'm not. I love my grimiest cousin to death. Family is Family. Are some of them niggas?? Most Definitely. Would I ever turn my back on any of them? Never in a million years. Would I bail them out of jail? Hell Naw.

Since the conversation I had with my friend I've noticed a funny thing. When I hear people say it now it sounds funny. I was watching an episode of Boondocks and Thugnificent was in the house. Every other word he said was nigga......do I sound like that?

I've always felt justified using the word. I've felt that its our word and we have the sole right to use it. As a term of endearment and negatively if need be. In certain situations there's no other word that could even come close to describing exactly how you feel. Its such a powerful word that people look for excuses to be able to use it and not get in trouble for it. You probably can't tell from the quote I used at the beginning but my great grandmother was a true saint. She loved her family more than anything. I must have heard her use that word in a million different ways and a million more variations. She never meant any harm by it though. She was the sweetest old lady that ever was. She knew the truth though.

What does that mean? It means I hope she never becomes my cousin's friend.

A Day in Court : J. Live vs. Nigga

It's 187 on the D.A./ cause they ain't tryin
to give a young motherfucker no leeway
Yes yes... y'all
187 on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em all
-C-BO

Going to court is never fun. The few times I've found myself inside of a courtroom have always been memorable - but never ever fun. Being that there are so many different types of courts one would think that one is less painful than the other. Which is true...in a way. Certain types of court are certainly not as scary as others. Traffic court may cause a sweat, but it would never cause you to flee the country. Juvenile court (the one I am unfortunately most familiar with) isn't geared toward putting the defendant in jail. Most offenses committed by juveniles are merely probation worthy and a few fines imposed. There are those few Columbine wackos that continue to surprise us and get the book thrown directly at their head if they haven't already blown it off - but those cases are extreme to say the least. Then there is Court TV.

A moderately new phenomenon where two people filing civil charges against each other can opt to go on television and have their case judged in front of a live audience - and America.

Watching these shows you never think you would actually land on one but that's exactly what happened last Monday. Which at first sounds like comedy....and it was....but for altogether different reasons than expected.

I currently live in Brooklyn with my new friends JLive and Jimbo. How I came to live there...and how my new friends ended up in court....is strangely interwoven together. I first met JLive back in Late January. I was looking for a new place to live. Love had hit the bricks in Harlem and I felt it was time to move on before the bricks turned into shit and really hit the fan. I wasn't going to at first because my ex had found out that I was looking for a new place and was pissed - even though she just told me two days before to please find a new place to live. I had already called J and decided to keep the appointment. Made the trek to a part of Brooklyn I had never been to and met one of the coolest chicks I've ever met in my 5 years of living in New York City. The apartment was dope...and cheap...so I was ready to put the money down that Friday. We smoked out and agreed that this would be a good union. At this point she had already met the other candidate. Going forward we'll simply refer to him as nigga. Unfortunately circumstances that I was under wouldn't allow me to move. I sent her a text and told her it was impossible. I wanted to move....but I couldn't. So she ended up having to give the room to nigga.

Five months later we're on People's Court.

The story of Nigga is a long one. I've only heard it told in stories so it feels funny talking about a nigga that I don't know. In a nutshell - At first Nigga is cool and then the lies start. The roof in Nigga's closet gets a hole in it. It rains. Nigga leaves his shit in the closet and Nigga's guitar gets some damage. Rent's due. Nigga doesn't want to pay. The landlord works out a deal with Nigga to give him X amount of dollars to leave. Nigga agrees. Nigga's old roommates now have to deal with the landlord and pay back the money somehow.

I came for the moral support of my new roommates and friends. At first though.....it wasn't really needed. We were the cockiest plaintiffs in the world - and with justification. Nigga was so unbelievably foul and rotten that we felt in our bones in what world could he win? In what crooked ass court room could Niggas run rampant and good black people get screwed? It never entered our minds for a second that we were going to lose because one would think that in a court of law (even one that's on tv) good people would prevail and get justice and the wicked would get what's coming to them. Finally after years of Fuck Niggas getting away with shit this would be one time that one Fuck Nigga would get what's coming to him and he would get it on TV!!! We felt like the case was ours. We got dressed that morning and started planning victory celebrations for afterwards. Plans were already being made for the settlement money. We KNEW we were gonna win. Because why wouldn't we?

The day of the show was the first time I had ever seen nigga. I had heard so many stories about him it was almost like seeing some crooked ass celebrity for the first time. Before the show starts the plaintiffs and defendants are separated backstage by a large wall. I could hear nigga. JLive recognized his sniff. The hatred for him for what she had been through was at the tipping point. Jimbo was grinning and laughing. Anticipating the downfall of nigga was something both of them had wanted for a long time. They had realized that he would ultimately get over on all of them no matter what.....but at least they could show the world how rotten he was. "I've been waiting for this" Jimbo whispered. We had to be quiet because the show was still in progress while we were waiting backstage. I looked above us and saw the lights on the light rack that any studio would have. I started to think of my college days when I worked for the film school that had a sound stage. I remember climbing to the top and climbing around the grid replacing lights. I also thought about what I had warned J about the case. JLive had changed the locks to prevent nigga from getting back in. This prompted him to call the cops. In the eyes of the law this is wrong. I can't say that I had a bad feeling going to court that day.......but while we were waiting backstage I had a thought.

Going to court is never fun.

What's wrong B? J asked me. As the moral support for the group I replied nothing and remained optimistic. Before leaving the backstage area Jimbo lead us in a prayer. While he was praying something my father told me before I had to go to Juvenile court came to me. "In that courtroom - That Judge is God." I had for some time brooded about this idea years before. Once you're in court you don't have to wait to die to be judged for your sins - All of a sudden your sins are being judged right here on earth along with a punishment to a place as close to hell as your gonna get without dying....I thought about sharing this idea with the group after Jimbo was finished praying but I decided not to. I was there for moral support - not divine interpretations. The guy with the case after us waited with us backstage. He was there because his girlfriend was dating some guy behind his back and ended up getting hit in the jaw by him. The show had flown him out from Florida to hear his case. One of the PA's came and told us we were next. Finally it was our turn.

While we were waiting to go through the doors of the courtroom JLive and Jimbo did a little pre-victory jig. They looked so happy. JLive had been so nervous going into this it was good to see her relaxed. For some reason I kept looking at the live monitor for the courtroom. It was showing the same thing but I kept looking. I tried to envision what I was going to look like going through. The PA gave us the order we were supposed to go in and where we would sit. The three of us debated how weird the directions were and if it would be better to switch. Jimbo didn't like the idea of switching so we remained in the same order. I imagined what it must of looked like with the three of us zigzagging into court to get behind the podium and laughed. For once I thought court was going to be fun.......and at first it was. We walked in like Goodfellas and heard the ominous voice over our heads explaining what the case was - Nigga walked in and the voice announced him as well. Once the Judge walked in we were told to sit by the bailiff.

JLive started telling the story of Nigga. The wrecked roof that caused the damage to the guitar, the delinquent rent payments, etc. Nigga shows pictures of the damaged guitar to the judge and explains the cost of what he had to pay to get it fixed. She jumps on him for leaving it in the closet in the first place and moves back to my roommate. The story continues and it comes to the part about changing the locks to keep Nigga out. Things pretty much go downhill from here. "DID YOU GIVE HIM A KEY?!?!" barks the Judge. uh-oh.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?" "NO-YOU'RE WRONG!" "I DON'T CARE WHAT HE HAS TO SAY!!!" "I DON'T CARE!!!!" "YOU ARE FINISHED!!!!!" "NO FUCK CONMIGO NIGRE - SOY CUBANO!!!!"

(Don't fuck with me Nigger! I'm Cuban!)

I'm almost thinking this lady is about to start giving out time in prison. Nigga couldn't produce enough evidence for his "counter suit" so the Judge gave him a O for nothing and promptly gave us an O for nothing as well. She banged her gravel and walked out of the courtroom - I noticed that she had on flip flops with an ankle bracelet.

On the way out J tried to give the mandatory Q&A session upon leaving People's Court her best but the wind had been knocked out of all of us. Jimbo was pissed. "FUCK HER!!" he screamed backstage. "THAT JUDGE IS FULL OF SHIT!!!" The security guards hadn't let us leave yet so I was starting to get a little worried that Jimbo would lose it for real but they came back with some papers for J to sign and we left before any real altercations could start.

In the end J was just glad for the whole thing to be over. She had went on tv and had fun and wasn't really tripping about losing. She was still going to get $250 just for being on the show and got a $50 per Diem right before we left. Afterwards Jimbo was still pissed. The two of them argued over the landlord's lawyer bills for awhile. J finally convinced him that the landlord had actually done everybody a big favor by just getting rid of Nigga. Even though he did get over he still has it coming. Just like all rotten people have it coming.

Jimbo had to go to work so we walked him to the D train on 34th st. Me and JLive walked down through the wholesale district around the corner from the court house looking for trees. We end up finding some Africans who have dimes for sale so they tell me to wait by the phone booth. The broker of the deal starts to try and holla at J as if he didn't just see me walking up together with her. He's higher than camel booty so J doesn't trip. We rolled up a blunt around 9th ave. and walk through the city smoking for awhile. I'm still in my suit and J is looking for a place to change. We decide to save half the blunt and get some Mexican food. Over Margaritas and cigarettes we start laughing and talking about the case. I called my grandfather who watches the show regularly.

"Hey! I was on People's Court Today!"

"Did you win?"

"Naw......we lost."

"LMAO"

LMAO is right.