We keep growing like hair when you die
Black butterfly on the rose that's preparing to fly
I paint a picture and the color of the orchid is vivid
Whatever, kid, I talk it, I spit it, I walk it, I live it
-Zion I & Talib Kweli, "Temperature"
Temperature is a funky track with the starting refrain, "keep your head up." This week, it's quite appropriate. From the madness that was Virginia Tech massacre. To the monsoon formerly known as the Boston Marathon. And it's only Wednesday. My city has been relatively quiet lately. Quite a few heads have made note of the decrease in crime although the number of homicides has eclipsed recent years past. The Don Imus incident has evolved into a critical analysis of hip-hop music. And I think it is warranted and welcomed. Because this time, it will not be a blind-sided attack on the music with generalities. But that comes with a calculated risk. It's just a microcosm of the local debate with some local heads I've hopped in and out of regarding the inequity between Imus' words and describing him as a cracker. This was after I asked if Lil Wayne gets a pass because he's Black. The other weird thing that I've noticed is how when incidents such as these happen, the proliferation of the original phrase is tossed around a helluva lot; almost too much. Some artists have been saying the right thing all along, and still continue to go unheard, unrecognized, and unheralded. The bad guy gets the girl. Sounds familiar. That's the best quick-and-dirty analogy that came to mind to describe the context. But riddle me this batman; are we going to rope actors, TV shows, movies, and comedians into this debate as well? Doubt it. How'd that old Digital Underground joint go? All the around the world, same song.
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