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Loosely based on a once legitimate expression of prowess and entertainment, it has now became an over-exaggerated farce of its original form.  Despite how it overtly plays to the highly stimulating and foregoes content, its fan base is expanding beyond its original audience and into new legions that know nothing of its true essence.  It now thrives on drama and will manipulate and exploit its own originators for the sake of raising stock in its infamous notoriety and capitalizing on its commercialism.

No - the industry of which I speak is not the WWE (formerly the WWF); it’s Hip Hop.  Yeah, I’m on it again.  The interesting thing is that when a person criticizes something or someone, said person is automatically branded as a ‘hater’; when, in fact, this assumption couldn’t be anything further from the truth.  Some of the most fervent criticism often comes from the biggest fans.  Our parents are that way.  They see the potential we have and what we’ve been able to accomplish; but when they see that potential misused and misappropriated, the rod comes out to chasten us – to help straighten us out.

Well, my rod has been whipped out against Hip Hop for quite some time now and although I am nowhere near its parent, I am an advocate of it – grafted into its lineage by choice.  When I speak of the ills of Hip Hop, I speak as a family member affected by its current status and pained at the thought that I have to chastise or possibly abandon it.

I am affected because even at its best (anything before an overdose on drug metaphors and blatant lack of content), Hip Hop may be stifling my own growth as I seek to strengthen my relationship with God.  And as I seek to make sense of it all in my life, I also can’t help but be concerned about how it’s affecting both my own and neighboring communities.

I stopped watching wrestling a long time ago because I grew tired of the plots and twists that happened outside of the ring that distracted from and devalued what used to be enjoyable to watch in the ring.  All it took was one unique antagonist to draw a crowd and ruin the game; as his anti-hero blueprint became infringed upon and reproduced by others with an obvious malice towards their own ability for creative thought.

And as I struggle to come to terms with whether to turn my back on Hip Hop in search of my own fulfilled purpose, I can only hope that Hip Hop does the same to itself in order to rediscover what made it so great in the first place.

http://allhiphop.com/stories/editorial/archive/2008/01/08/19098595.aspx#comments
 
“The Struggle”

Kweli knew and dubbed it best –
‘Hip Hop’s the new WWF.’
Like Doug E. Fresh, it’s been beaten
and boxed into a corner.
But this isn’t about Hip Hop per say –
It’s about one fan’s flip flopped survey…
One fan who both disses and jocks the
wordplay of its top performers.

Instilled in my letters and entrenched in vents,
Rap’s a source of guilty pleasure and innocent discontent.
I’m vehemently rent between
The Rock and hard-bassed Blues.
And as it’s publicized in publications,
Rap’s republic eyes utter a guise of repugnant hatred…
As its numbest patrons snub my statements –
unable to spot that their hearts ache, too.

With my pen as a monolith
To both model and topple it,
I’ve been pinned by the dogged grip of rap music.
So like a fickle fan who’ll promptly switch
From sycophant to taunting quips…
I’ve moved from astonishment to
admonishment of its wack usage.
 
Yet despite its focal platform,
There’s a light that totally surpasses rap’s norms.
Holy Hip Hop is an active forum that’s truly redemptive.
Christian rappers are taking a stand
With christened rap words without atheist strands…
As they’re making a brand full of
Biblical base and useful deliv’rance.

But in this music business,
some say such clichés are oxymorons –
They say beats with bass debase God in distorted song.
But from laws in the Torah to Psalms,
musical praise is prevalent.
To me, it’s not Hip Hop that’s morally wrong –
Like Christianity, it only takes a few proxies
to knock its course off…
It’s those whom I squash with my forearm –
those who deface what’s at stake with decadence.

But they’re not who I’m wrestlin’ –
What I fight’s in the air and indefinite.
Within flesh’s residence, my spirit’s imprisoned
and labors to birth freedom.
Like diamond bezels and necklaces
Imbedded and bedeviled with recklessness…
Within conflicted messages, do the lyrics I
listen to favor accursed treason?
 
This is the battle I wage –
This is what rattles my cage.
Like cattle in gates, is what I’ve heard
herding me in return?
Is Holy Hip Hop a mockery?
Can I be holy and love Hip Hop honestly?!!…
Or is it all hypocrisy prompting and haunting me
merc’lessly to turn to the Word?

Psychologically, the snares and flares of the issue
Wears and tears my mental sinew.
When aware, I dare to issue challenges
for a championed cause.
But when I get hype in the stands
and toss my hat in the ring,
Every mindless fan and spineless Stan
chimes in aghast to tag the king…
Attackin’ me like gnats and fleas for a stance
that disagrees with their pantheon gods.

Whether they laugh, applaud or mock my gestures,
Not even the brashest blog will stop my efforts.
To battle man or God –
which is better for me to come out from?!!
That’s the easiest question to answer –
I may get queasy, but I’ll wreck any brandisher…
I haven’t yet met a blasphemer where
I couldn’t control the outcome.

Besides, I know what happens when
you’re at odds with the Creator.
You may gain favor, but you’ll
pay at large for it later.
Look at God and Jacob –
Israel prevailed but it cost him his swagger.
For me, Jacob wrestlin’ with God
Has the same make up as whether to heckle Hip Hop…
It wrecks my vessel as my
hip socket gets popped over the matter.

So as I ‘struggle with God’ my pain IS RAEL.
As I wrestle my flesh, what’s at stake is revealed.
Like Triple H’s appeal, can Holy Hip Hop
split me away from D (Gen) X?
Like an H3 climbs the grounds
of rough terrain’s uranium*,
Can it place me on higher grounds
from the subterranean?…
Or will it remain tough for me to reign
restrained in stints like DMX?

Until I break free of its sleeper hold,
The break I need to free my leaping soul
Is a step of faith away from keeping me
whole thanks to my favorite songs.
So if rap’s break beats and frequent tones
Are keeping me from reaping what’s sown…
I need to release what’s seeped in my mold
until my break has dawned.

‘Jacob was left there alone.  Then some man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.  When the man saw that he could not prevail over him, he struck Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the hip socket was wrenched as they wrestled.  The man then said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”  But Jacob said, “I will not let you go until you bless me.”  “What is your name?” the man asked.  He answered, “Jacob.”  The man said, “You shall no longer be spoken of as Jacob, but as Israel, because you have contended with divine and human beings and have prevailed.”
– Genesis 32: 24-29

* Poet’s Prerogative:
Uranium is a naturally occurring element that can be found in low levels within all rock, soil, and water.  – wikipedia.org

© 2007 Reggie Legend
Steel Waters, Inc.
reggielegend@hotmail.com

With death seemingly lying dormant beneath the surface of Hip Hop, is there any hope in sight for the victims that lay in the aftermath of its wake? The answer, for Hip Hop artists at least, would appear to be yes. Immortalized by lyrics that stereotypically glorify death, we all but deify our cultural martyrs. And while respect is due for the talents of the slain, can it go too far?

Perhaps in an attempt to ease our grief, somewhere along the line we’ve rationalized that the tragic conditions lived (or very well depicted) by the likes of Biggie and Pac somehow grants them a free pass into heaven. In doing so, while we’ve managed to honor their memories, we simultaneously disregard and downplay the only hope of a heavenly afterlife.

But wait! Before you stone me for daring to suggest that those we’ve lost didn’t make it to heaven or being so bold as to talk about religion in Hip Hop, ask yourself this: how ritual has Hip Hop become to us? Is it not a movement that empowers the downtrodden – seen as a savior for the lives of those that cross over into its success? Is it not studied by zealots as a religious temple and revered as a platform to speak and act against social class imbalances and injustice – just as the Baptist Church was the center of the civil rights movement back in the 50’s?

Even with these similarities, we must not confuse ourselves by entertaining the soulful preservation of those who’ve been murdered in the cause. Let us not forget the history of violence that has been in the world before Hip Hop and will remain forever after; and in doing so, let us not forget that its unfounded association to our culture of music doesn’t merit God’s acceptance of those that have suffered because of it. For the heroes of Hip Hop, heaven’s gates open the same way as it does for us: through the Son of God. Otherwise, we’re all walking around with wool over our eyes in an attempt to absorb the tears that have been shed for our fallen.

If Hip Hop had a heaven,
Would B.I.G. and Pac be referenced as reverends?
Would their legacies remain reverenced as legend to their congregations?
Would they have pick-pocketed collections?
Would they have picketed their own marketed message?…
Would we flip flop between bested hymns in fierce conflagration?!!

If Hip Hop let thugs in heaven,
Would Kristoff St. John open the gates for its young and restless –
Would gun possession be exorcised and extradited?
Would pitchin’ rocks from drug professions
Be forgotten since this option was left from smug oppression?…
Since the government let it in –would they set the chips aside to tithe it?!!

If Hip Hop had layovers in heaven,
Would ‘Jay Hova’ be a less unpleasant ref’rence?
Would Holy Hip Hop be more prevalent in modern day rap?
Would a collar on Run seem as irreverent?
Could self-martyrdom from Nas’ gun have been more effective?…
What if Jay resurrected – could rap be saved if this star came back?

Would there be a difference between ‘god’ and ‘dun?’
What about Nastrodamus’ depiction as God’s son?!!
Was it all in fun – or was this part of a grander scheme?
As outlandish as this may seem to folks,
I’ve seen patterns of a meaner joke
In something we promote in homage to gangsta leans.

Though rap today has a few numero unos,
The price they pay plays to the tune of funerals.
Eulogy beats are the usual for their deadwood dogma.
To gain green funds in large profits,
The mainstream floods in false prophets…
Spreading gangrene in uncut doctrine –
deposited in coffins of embellished hood mantras.

But what if Hip Hop echoed heaven on earth?
Would New Jerus’ peruse ghetto havens first?
Could it save and reverse its romanticized condition?
Would it release the populace or keep it enslaved
With the greed of coppin’ chips, cheese and chains?…
Or is it too ashamed for how far we’ve franchised our position?

With heaven’s commongrounds on our premises,
Would we continue to walk around as our most powerful nemesis?
If we could break out of the syndicate, would its synthesis surely break down?
Would rap keep recruitin’ legionsof shootin’ demons?
If so, would it be so bad that it harbors a slew of heathens?!!…
Would Jews still lead in recoupin’ green endz with the Pearly Gates around?

If Hip Hop had heaven harnessed for a new season,
Would Common Be the constant gardener of New Eden?
Such honest guardians are few and far in between my brothers’ keep.
After all, at The Roots of our Black Stars’ depths,
Too few truly acknowledge their talents’ charged debt…
Despite immaculate concepts, they challenge God with plundering feats.

Too busy in hell’s kitchen bakin’ up fake stunts to bail out,
Hip Hop’s been placed on a hellmouth.
Even if heaven replaced it, Ma$e would still be a sellout, to say the least.
Without unleaded gas to fuel its head of steam,
Would rap exhume its unleavened recipe?…
Or is it too consumed by the commune of an un-heavenly destiny of wasted yeast?

Will Hip Hop’s soul ever rise to the occasion again –
where were you the day it died?
Is it too early to mourn – at its wake will we Rize?
Or will it be too late to realize as we writhe in the pain of its loss?
Since its soul’s been sold to the devil’s embezzled team,
Would Hip Hop even make it to heaven’s mezzanine?!!…
Will we wake from the hellish scene of this unsettled dream to take up its cross?

If heaven was a mile away and Hip Hop a close shaven second,
Which one would host the most of our jaded brethren?
Would Ghostface be a reverend to cajole the Supreme Being’s clientele?
Would the Three 6 Mafia be revealed as the mark of the beast
Or merely a market of street beefs?…
Would we finally take off its leash? – only time will tell.

If cops sprayed the booth with Eminem in it,
Since he made it in Hip Hop, could he pay Proof an eminent visit –
Or were his sentiments too vivid for the annals of Hip Hop’s preserved?
Would cats get placed in purgatory
For the graphic way they word a story
Even if it cracked the pavement andearned them glory on Hip Hop’s curve?

If Hip Hop had a mansion in heaven
Can you imagine who would staff its residence?
Big, Pac and Scott La Rock would jam its expansive measurements with a host of others.
It’d be agreed that certain sistas thought of as passionate and heaven sent
Would have fixed spots like stanchions of benevolence…
As Lisa and Aaliyah would have an outstanding presence sensed
like the ghosts of southerners.

From A to Z, martyrs for the cause who lay perished
Are amazingly fostered to belong to the same parish –
Cats like Eazy-E and Freaky Tah remain cherished like stained wood.
From Jam Master J Dilla to Big L’s insane Puns,
From Marley to a modern day marvel slain as Gaye’s son…
If music could save one – then these artists merited sainthood.

Tantalized as injured mourners,
We’ve canonized these performers.
We fantasize them reserved for the Lord since their lives weren’t crystal stairs.
Yet behind random lines lies a bigger picture.
Every time we glamorize lives, we scandalize the grand design of Christian vigor…
Without standardizing Christ as their risen center – their lives are wisps of air.

Though they live on in lyrical chapters,
They’re eternally scorned from a spiritual fracture.
Without Christ, their hereafter’s trapped in ethereal infernos.
Like blasphemy against God,
No Christ in an absentee’s heart
Is like battling against Nas –as their souls forever burn slow.

But if they knew Christ as their personal Savior,
No amount of ice could give them more versatile savor.
Despite terminal vapors – they can breathe new heir with new nostrils!
Despite the hearse and a few favors,
Despite the nicest words from eulogy prayers…
No verse renews greater than the Good News of the Gospel!

© Reggie Legend 2006
Steel Waters, Inc.
reggiegelend@hotmail.com

“The World Web Internets is a series of tubes (not a big truck which you just dump something into), used to transfer important information (porn) worldwide. It has, in recent years, evolved into the greatest MMORPG of all time, where players choose one of two factions and compete for either lulz or anti-lulz respectively. This of course divides into many smaller classes and such, each with their own culture, ideas, and often language. In fact, the internets is basically an electronic version of Earth–who woulda thunk it?”

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