Tagged: culture

D:\Coda

[retrieved from temporal location M:\Dec 20, 2013 at 10:15 PM]

A thirty-six-mile straightaway between two cities … what’d they used to call those? a highway.

The black, cracked concrete absorbs all one-hundred-ten degrees of heat and humidity bearing down on the time-scorched earth, exacerbating the stench of garbage and carcass discarded over the past few years.  Mounds of black trashbags filled with Gaia-knows-what (banana peels, industrial waste, limbs arrested by rigor mortis … ?) cause what few motor vehicles still in operation to swerve violently every ten feet in the manner of Elmer Fudd or some other ridiculous cartoon.

Ah! here comes one now.

A black sedan of unknown make rockets around the bend at ninety-miles-an-hour screaming as black rubber melts off its tires.  It hits several mounds of garbage, causing gallons of pink biotoxic sludge to engulf its crumpled frame.  The windshield wipers start running as the car swerves toward the shoulder of the road and pulls back just in time.  When the window is thoroughly cleared, the sunroof opens and a man of about twenty years with black mussed hair and eyes covered in large black goggles pokes his naked torso through the ceiling.  He is passed a large black garbage bag from below and hurls it behind the speeding car, impact causing the bag to explode and leave food by-products, grease, and paper flailing back in the wind.  He is passed another bag and discards it in the same manner.  A third, fourth, and fifth bag follow.  The load is large because it has been a week and a half since the neighborhoods garbage was taken out.  The man recedes back into the car; the sunroof closes.  The sedan makes a sharp left, tumbling over the depressed, dusty medium, kicking up a bellowing mushroom cloud in its wake, makes its way onto the opposite side of the road and accelerates back the way it came.

The sedan sped toward its end in the city of the Third Province of Shaolin with the fury of a runaway train destined for derailment.  Within its compartments sat the High Chief and Osiris, with his Highness as the wheel making devilish jerks of the vehicle to avoid a nasty collision with the garbage mounds which they had, most likely, lain there weeks or months in the past.  The passenger windows were rolled all the way up and smoke from a woolie lingered with apathetic regard toward the furious winds speeding past the outside of the vehicle.  High Chief bore with his foot all two-hundred-twenty pounds of his mass upon the accelerator.  He took two hits of the blunt and passed it to Osiris, the bare bodied boy.

Osiris took the roach, too small to wholly embrace, and tucked it between the edge of his thumb and index finger, raised it to his dry, black lips, and inhaled.  He let out a wheeze of a cough and his flat, untoned abdomen contracted abruptly, causing him to drop the roach.

–Fuckboy, said High Chief, in a voice that groaned.

–Fuck it, God, shit was cashed, knamsayin, no loss.  Fuck it, where we goin’, God?

–Back to the Island to go the fuck to sleep, God, a nigga chashed, knamsayin.

–Word life, God.

They were silent for a while then, until Osiris asked, –Yo, Chief, hol’ up, hol’ up, where my Killer tape at, God?  You dun had it since last fuckin’ week, where the fuck is my tape at?

–Yo, son, I ain’t got that piece, son.

–How you ain’t got my shit when I let you hold it, man?

–Yo, niggas came over to have forties and blunts, kid, the shit just came up missin’.

–Come on, man, that don’t got nothin’ to do with my shit, man, come on, man, go head with that shit, man.

–Come on, man, I’ll buy you four more fuckin’ Killer tapes, man.

–Fuck that shit, God.  Just then, a face call came in over Osiris’s stolen phone.  When he answered, an associate known as the Golden Arms appeared on the screen.  He said, out of breath, –Yo, yo, God, word is bond, yo, Shameek just got bust in his head two times, God.

–Word?

–Word life, God.  You know Shameek from fuckin’ 212, God?  The nigga just got bucked.  Nigga’s in a black Land, God, word is bond.  Came through, God, from outta nowhere, God.  Word is bond, I’m coming to get my culture-cypher, God.   And they just … word is bond, crazy shots just went the fuck off, God.  The nigga layin’ there like a fuckin’ newborn fuckin’ baby, God.

–Word?  Is he dead, asked Osiris.

–Is he fuckin’ dead?  Fuck you mean is he fuckin’ dead, God?  What the fuck kinda question is that?  Fuck you think?  The nigga layin’ there with his fuckin’ … all types of fuckin’ blood coming out his fuckin’…

–Fuck, God.

–Yo God, what’s up, God?  It’s the God, God, word is bond.  Yo, what’s up?  I’m ready to fuckin’ lay.  I’m ready to get busy, God, what’s up?

Osiris said, –Yo, go do what we gotta do.

High Chief then turned his head toward the screen in Osiris’s hand.  –We out or what, man?

–It’s the God, God, fuck that, man, said the Golden Arms.

–You sayin’ we out? asked High Chief.

–Yeah, God, let’s get the fuck, son!

The line went dead.  –You heard the God, said Osiris, –Let’s buck.

–Word, God … oh, oh, hol’ up, God, said High Chief looking out of his side window at a fixed-gear biker rocketing down the opposite side of the  highway.  The biker turned his head momentarily and then quickened his pace.

–Oh, fuck, God, hell nahh, said High Chief, –Fuckin Skeletons be fuckin up.  His Highness made a sharp left, rumbling over the median again, and drove back toward the biker.  The sedan accelerated past one-hundred-miles-per-hour and approached the biker who, as they neared him with the stark-white “W” painted on the hood of their stolen car, appeared to descend into fear and madness.

–We got this nigga, said High Chief, and he rammed into the biker who, upon impact, was hurled into the shoulder of the road, propelled backward like a ragdoll, his limp body kicking up a dust storm like a mere bag of garbage…

Naturally, no one of good character lived in cities anymore, although it was arguable that none ever did.  Five decades after this event, an inquiring mind could find the upper crust of society, not in any real-world location, but in cyberspace.

Vigilantes having been condemned to live out their remaining days on the polluted surface of the earth, all people of culture were stored underground, and the highest form of art was now executed in code.

[See D:]

…In the night, from fixed-gear bikes, the chant rang out, and was heard round the world–

“We have a body in decay;
We have a mind in disarray;
Off with the head,
The rest may stay,
So hands may mold with fresher clay,
And feet may walk a better way
Toward a new and brighter day.”

(The ramifications of this campaign naturally progressed toward a more violent state than intended…)

Machine had a row of chain links, wrenches, pliers, and such, lined up real meticulously on the small metal table to the side like he was the dentist from hell or something.  Guy on the operating table, so to speak, was a real goon of a fellow.  Went by the name of Osiris.  I didn’t like him, but I sure as shit felt sorry for him, cause Machine had few if any of what the kids call morals.  I mean, there was don’t go against the crew, don’t fall off your bike … but on a personal level, it was a free-for-all among us Skeletons.

They call us the Skeletons because of our bikes—bare bones steel.  No breaks, no gears, no grips, all rip.  Fixed gear to the death, we’re known to say.  The chain-rings of our bikes are built larger by Machine, so there can be more teeth.  It makes it hard to shove off, but with a higher ratio we can sustain sixty-seven-mile-per-hour speeds on the straightaway.  Lack of breaks makes it impossible for us to stop at speeds like that.  We like it that way.

Anyway, our friend Osiris was looking a bit pale.  Hell, if I didn’t know the effect old Machine tended to have on folk, I’d-a thought I was looking at a ghost.  Our captive had the complexion of bone.

Or location, furthermore, was not the kind of place that would have made Osiris feel at home.  We were in the basement of the old City Bike warehouse in the Southeast Quadrant.  That’s Federal City, if you don’t know.

This old place had only one light in operation.  It had started flickering a month prior.  When it goes out, we’d have to find another location for HQ—cause it’s hard to get bulbs in these times.

But for the time it was nice and perfect, about 7,500 square feet of blood-splattered concrete, with metal gates as tall as the 50-foot ceilings all rusted and whiny; they section off the rooms nicely.

All of our bikes were lined up along the far wall next to the elevator that used to service the bike warehouse when it was still in operation.  The bikes also used to belong to the warehouse, but we stripped ’em, and they’re ours now.  They’re our livelihoods.  And listen, these weren’t loud, obnoxious, growl-growl, spewing smoke, asshole bikes.  These required no oil, not that we had any.  Like I said, our bikes are why we’re called the Skeletons.  We’d take our bikes to the strip, this forty-mile stretch between  Federal City and the Third Province of Shaolin, which has been known as Baltimore, once upon a time.  We were notorious on those roads, but the 36 Chambers were notorious, too.  You know of the 36, a.k.a the Three-Six Mafia, a.k.a the Anarchists, a.k.a the Regime, a.k.a the Nine-Deuce, a.k.a the Nine Chambers, a.k.a the Shaolin Shadowboxers, a.k.a the Wu Tang Clan.  You know them.

Word on the street was that a couple of the top generals were breaking away from the order in First Province of Shaolin in Old New York to start up HQ in Federal City and Former Baltimore.  We needed answers.  Lucky for us, we saw Dirt McGirt, a.k.a Osiris, cranking his pussy carbon frame down the strip, so we picked him up.

Now we had to get him to talk.  That was Machine’s specialty—I mean besides building and welding and shit.  He had this theory—you could say it was one of his few morals.  He used to read all those Daredevil comics, you see, and he believed that if you lost one of your senses, then your other senses grew stronger.  So if the dude Osiris didn’t have much of a capacity to talk now, then maybe he’d have to lose one of his other sense to enhance that capability, knamsayin, God.  Machine always started with touch.  He had those pliers by his side ready to pull off a couple of fingernails.  After that, if the guy wouldn’t talk, he had a spoon there for sight.  But Machine didn’t even get through the first fingernail before Osiris broke:

–Aight, God, aight, aight.

Machine looked up.  I could see that he was a little disappointed.  Before he could decide if Osiris needed further instigation, the bossman Frankie the Break came out of the dark corner beside Machine.  He was called “the Break” because he was the only person in the whole crew—hell, in the whole fucking city—who could skid to an immediate stop on Machine’s chain-ring.  He was a big fellow—big, not fat—and covered in tattoos like a mosaic, head-to-toe.  His big bald head had a tattoo of a chain-ring on it, too.  He was the by-goddest hardcore guy I knew.  That’s why he was boss.

–Get away from him, Mac, said Frankie the Break.  Then he said to me, –Hey, “Fixed Gear” Charlie, crank that chair up.

Yeah, that’s what they call me: “Fixed Gear” Charlie Bones.

I uncrossed my arms and went over and cranked the lever at the bottom of the chair, lifting the back up so that Osiris could see Frankie face-to-face.  He was all tied up, so he couldn’t really do it himself.  Frankie the break had a wooden chair with him.  He spun it ’round and sat down in it reversed, resting his arms on the chair-back.  In his hand he was shaking, as if he had a nervous tick, a spare crankset.  He had the machinery gripped tightly in his hand and the chain-ring moving around like a stationary hand-saw.  After a while he said, quite casually,

–You the one they call Osiris?  He pulled out some cigarettes.

Osiris nodded, ‘fraid-like.

Frankie held out the softpack to him but Osiris shook his head.  Frankie shrugged and lit his jack with some matches he had.  After he had taken a puff, –You from the land of Shaolin, I hear.  First Province.

Osiris nodded.

Frankie took a drag and exhaled slow.  –And I hear you’re a prominent member of the group they call the Wu Tang Clan, and affiliated Killa Bee assassins.

Osiris did nothing.

–In fact, you’re one of the top dogs.  A member of … the 36 Chambers of Death.

Osiris remained still, save a twitch in his eye.

–I was just thinking that you could tell us … what the fuck y’all are doing in Federal City, Skeleton turf.  And, while you’re at it, maybe you could tell us why six of my guys are, well, six feet under.

Osiris said nothing.  His eye continued to twitch.

–You look like you’ve got something in your eye, Frankie exhaled.  –Machine can help you with that.  Machine … 

Machine came back over with his spoon and straddled Osiris as he was strapped in the chair, then Osiris started shouting like the devil was biting his ass.

–Aight, God, aight, I’ll talk.

Machine dismounted him, again disappointed.  –Good boy, said Frankie the Break.

Osiris took a deep breath.  He closed his eyes, then he started:

–Look, God, I grew up on the crime side, the Empire Times side, where stayin’ alive was no jive.  I had second-hands, my mom’s bounced on old man, so then we moved to Shaolin Land.  A young youth, rockin’ the gold tooth, ‘Lo goose; the only way I began to G-off was drug loot.  So yeah it started like this, son, rollin’ with this one, and that one, pullin’ out gats for fun.  But it was just a dream for the teen that was a fiend.  I started smokin’ woolies at sixteen.  Runnin’ up in gates and doin’ hits for high stakes, making my way on fire escapes.  No question, I would speed for cracks and weed.  The combination made my eyes bleed.  No question I would flow off to try to get the dough all, stickin’ up white boys on ball courts.  Shiiid, my life got no better.  Same damn ‘Lo sweater.  Times was rough and tough like leather.  Figured out I went the wrong route.  So I got with a sick-tight clique and went all out.  Catchin’ keys from across seas, rollin’ in MPVs, every week we made 40 Gs.  Yo, nigga, respect mine, or anger the TEC-9: Ch-chick-BLOW, move from the gate now.  

–Well what the fuck made you wanna move down here to the Fed, God? asked Frankie

–‘Cause, god, you know, cash rules everything around me.  Shit’s flowin’ in the Fed, knamsayin.  Shid, you know; you the one that fuckin made it.  Aye, don’t get salty, my nigga it’s the game, it’s the stuggle.  Niggas out’chea starvin’ and shit.  C.R.E.A.M—Get the money.

–Dollar, dollar bills, God.

–Aye, yo, Frankie, nigga, I hope you know, doe, the Clan’s watchin’ you, God.  We got eyes all across these Fifty Provinces.  The fuckin’ Chambers ’bout to rush up in yo shit, God.  Ain’t no escape, my nigga.  Kill me, my nigga, and a swarm of fuckin’ beez gone run up in this piece God, murda the whole island.

  Frankie the Break took a deep breath and flicked his jack.  He stood up.  –Well, then, he said, –If what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu-Tang could be dangerous … Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?

Then Frankie the Break reared his big hand back with the chain-ring and careened all fifty metal teeth into Osiris’s head.

We all stood around in slight awe.  After some time, I said, to ease the tension, –Survey says, your dead.

No body laughed.

Machine wiped his hand down his face and said to the bossman, –You know you just started a war, right?

Frankie the Break lit another cigarette and said, –Bring the motherfucking ruckus.

(But, if there was hope to be had for the human race, it was in the Recluses, and it was in revering the only true sense of reality humanity would have known for a hundred centuries …)

[See D:]

Ninety years later, the earth did flood, and the atmosphere suffocated all the remaining organisms.  It had been written by a prophet that the waters would freeze in an ice age, and the old earth would be uncovered as rock formations made up of compressed concrete, brick, steel, rubber, PVC, glass, and other structures which would be interpreted by later scientists to have been formed as naturally as the Himalayan mountain range or the Bisti Badlands (but that would not happen for another several millennia, when the next cycle of evolution yielded the inevitable human brain.  It was essentially a fact now that the evolution of a species as superior as man would harken the end of the earth in the Coda-Gaia by building a great machine, one far beyond the logo-computational capacities of man—but without the morale—which would yield negative ecological returns on its efficient and ever-speeding progress.)  Until, then, however, the world would hibernate and life would sleep, as would love, sex, womb, mother, birth, infancy, youth, adulthood, maturity, and death, in their absence leaving infinite.  In the coda, Gaia wept herself to sleep.

Vandalism: from the Margins

“Vandalism” is a word invented by its victims. It names damage done by outsiders to things the center considers sacred: monuments, images, narratives of order. In late Rome, the Vandals and Goths were not merely destroyers of marble; they were destroyers of Roman self-certainty. To call them vandals was to collapse political threat, cultural difference, and aesthetic offense into a single moral judgment. The word survives because empires do.

The fall of the Roman Empire is often imagined as a barbarian eruption against civilization, but this is a retrospective fantasy. The Goths were already inside Rome—serving in its armies, speaking its languages, converting to its Christianity. Their “vandalism” was less an annihilation than a reallocation: power, land, legitimacy moved away from an exhausted center. What fell was not civilization, but monopoly.

This is where Augustine enters the picture. A Berber African from the imperial periphery, he rose to become Doctor of the Universal Church while never quite ceasing to be marked as other—by accent, by origin, by the faint suspicion that holiness should sound Roman. The City of God itself is a strange text of imperial afterlife: a Christian theology written to explain why Rome’s gods failed, and why Rome itself did not matter as much as it thought. Augustine did not smash statues; he dissolved them conceptually. His was a vandalism of meaning.

Christianity, in its early centuries, functioned as a culture-jamming operation against pagan imperial spectacle. The cross replaced the eagle; martyr stories replaced triumphal processions. Paganism, meanwhile, became the name for everything local, plural, and insufficiently universal. Yet Christianity, once enthroned, quickly learned to protect images rather than interrupt them. Vandalism, like prophecy, became heresy once institutionalized.

Fast forward to the contemporary United States and its military-industrial hegemony: an empire of logistics, branding, and managed perception. Here vandalism reappears not primarily as physical destruction but as semiotic interference. The adbuster and the culture jammer do not topple statues; they détourn billboards, parody logos, and interrupt the smooth flow of consumer militarism. Their “damage” is to narrative coherence.

Street art and nonviolent direct action operate in this Gothic register: inside the empire but not of it. Like the Goths in Rome, they speak the dominant language fluently enough to break it. They reveal the fragility of what presents itself as inevitable. A modified advertisement is unsettling because it exposes how much power resided in the unmodified one.

Is the adbuster the adjuster of the social ledger? Perhaps—but only temporarily. Empire’s ledger is vast, and its accountants are patient. Still, adjustments matter. Vandalism, in this sense, is not chaos but critique enacted at the level of surfaces. It asks: who authorized this image? who benefits from its intactness? what happens if we refuse to look correctly?

Augustine understood this paradox. “Like all men of Rome I have been a proconsul, like all men a slave.” Borges’s line captures the imperial condition perfectly: to rule is also to be ruled by the structure that grants authority. The culture jammer inherits this insight. They are inside the system they oppose, fluent in its aesthetics, constrained by its reach. Their vandalism is an admission of captivity and a test of freedom.

What connects Goth, Pagan, Christian, and adbuster is not theology or ideology but position: each names a force that destabilizes an imperial claim to universality. Vandalism is what the center calls that destabilization when it cannot absorb it. Sometimes the empire falls. More often, it adapts. But the scratch on the surface remains—a reminder that no image is final, and no order is immune to reinterpretation.

[composed with artificial intelligence]

“WAKE UP, MR. WEST”: The Return of the Rap-Pagan, Part I

[Paragraphs marked * were written c. January 2014 and slightly revised]

[Note: this essay contains racial language used for socio-analytical purposes. The NS identifies only one Human race and does not discriminate or condemn any individual solely for their personal, cultural, or religious practices. The NS does not, however, condone the thematically-exploitative historical practices of certain homogenous groups.]

Hip-hop music was once the voice of the urban Afrakan of the Diaspora (Black people), spoken by poor righteous teachers to inform us of our circumstances. In the era of Rakim, Tribe, Wu-Tang, and other 5%ers, Hip-Hop preached the pagan sun-gospel and the resurrection of the black body from the Wilderness of the North American ghettos.

Hip-hop was so effective at its initial mission to “wake up” the Black people that the Powers-That-Be, who were invested in keeping the Black population ignorant and depraved, thereupon infiltrated the ranks of our culture, poisoned our message, and created the genre of “Rap.” Rap was promoted by the Powers-That-Be into becoming the dominant mode of entertainment for Black youth. As such, it has been seeded with those same vices which our old-head teachers said would keep us subservient to the system: drug abuse, misogyny, glorification of violence, and the pursuit of empty riches.

This is not the first time that the Powers-That-Be have infiltrated the ranks of natural Culture. It happened over 2000 years ago in Lower Kemet, and it has been happening for the past 1000 years all over the indigenous world. In Ancient Kemet, the Powers-That-Be [Greece, Rome, Hyksos-Semites] conquered, stole, and corrupted the pagan science of nature into the abrahamic mystery religions. Hence, without intending any anti-Semitism, it is appropriate to call the originators of modern Hip-Hop culture Rap-Pagans, and the parasitic trap-rappers and cronies of the music industry, Rap-Jews.

Kanye West, a talented young producer who appeared on the scene at the end of the 90s just as the Rap-Jews were beginning to take over, presents an interesting model of a music artist in an age where the Black consciousness is torn between cultural piety and cultural exploitation. It is as if Kanye had begun his career wanting to reclaim Kemet for his people, but he was ultimately consumed by Babylon. In Part II of this essay, we will see how Kendrick Lamar, proud King Kunta Kinte, represents the alternative, true, inner Kanye West, the Kanye who succeeded in beating the system, instead of getting beat by it.

*Mr. West’s most recent album, Yeezus, which many lament and many praise, is not all boast. I believe that Mr. West is the divine prophet of the rap music industry, the chosen son of our god Gil Scott-Heron, and he has come to die for all the sins of his fellow Rap-Jews, who are mired in the vices above described.

*We may separate Mr. West’s career into Old and New Testaments, on opposite sides of the dramatic upset in his style between Graduation and 808s and Heartbreak. Graduation having been released in September of 2007, and his mother having died in November of that year, we may credit Mr. West’s emotional shift to that event which he has said proved to yield a devastating affect in his life.

*College Dropout, Late Registration, and Graduation—the Old Testament of Kanye West—exemplify his affinity for classic soul samples, the guilt he sustained from not completing college and letting his mother down, and his struggle to find his place in the rap world.

*In the Old Testament, we find verses from Talib Kweli, Common, Mos Def (the rapper currently known as Yasiin Bey), Lupe Fiasco, and other Rap-Pagans of this era, to an extent and quality that we find lacking in the latter period of Mr. West. We find West acknowledging and often lamenting the reality that he sees his people so mired in—how the institutions of white America passed down drugs, guns, and disease to break a people intent on trying to pull themselves up (see “Crack Music”)—as well as grappling with his image and his internal struggle between desiring the flashy luxurious toys that the Rap-Jew covets and being an upstanding role model for a younger generation (i.e., providing an image of the black male that is not steeped in lust-driven, gang-oriented, rags-to-crack-to-riches ideology). This internal conflict is epitomized in College Dropout, but also well-evoked in Late Registration:

How we stop the Black Panthers?

Ronald Reagan cooked up an answer.

You hear that? What Gil Scott was “Heron”

When our heroes and heroines got hooked on heroine.

Crack raised the murder rate in D.C. and Maryland;

We invested in that, it’s like we got Merrill lynched.

And we’ve been hanging from the same tree ever since.

Sometimes I feel like music is the only medicine,

So we cook it, cut it, measure it, bag it, sell it,

The fiends cop it, nowadays they can’t tell if

That’s that good shit, we ain’t sure, man;

Put the CD on your tongue, yeah that’s pure, man.

This that crack music, nigga,

That real black music, nigga.

From the place where the father’s gone, the mothers is hardly home

And the Madigons lock us up in the Audy Home [a Chicago-area juvenile prison];

How the Mexicans say, We just tryin’ to party, holmes;

They wanna pack us all in a box like styrofoam.

Who gave Saddam anthrax?

George Bush got the answers.

Back in the hood it’s a different type of chemical–

Arm & Hammer baking soda raised their own quota

Right when our soldiers ran for the stove ’cause,

‘Cause … dreams of being Hova

Went from being a broke man to being a dopeman

To being the president, look there’s hope, man;

This that inspiration for the Moes and the Folks, man,

Shorty come and see his momma straight overdosin’

… And this is the soundtrack;

This the type of music that you make when you round that.

Our father, give us this day our daily bread,

Before the feds give us these days and take our daily bread.

See I done all this ol’ bullshit,

And to atone, I throw a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ on the pulpit.

We took that shit, measured it, and then cooked that shit,

And what we gave back was crack music.

And now we ooze it through they nooks and crannies,

So our mommas ain’t got to be their cooks and nannies,

And we gon’ repo everything they ever took from granny.

Now the former slaves trade hooks for Garmmys.

This dark diction has become America’s addiction.

Those who ain’t even black use it.

We gon’ keep baggin’ up this here crack music.

*I reproduced “Crack Music” from Late Registration here in its entirety because I think it’s the most revealing of West’s Old Testament songs. Even when he is making a song in the spirit of the Rap-Jew, elaborating upon past drug-work and showing how one made it “out the ghetto” because of that occupation, he is being pointedly ironic. He is representing this type of degenerative rap as crack in and of itself. Music that glorifies the drug-life is poison for the people who have to experience this reality every day, and yet rappers continue to glorify this occupation at the behest of parasitic music industry executives who think that this image is what will sell records. Mr. West is pointing out that the Black community’s drug problems were and are imposed upon them by the Powers-That-Be in order to break them, in the same way that “crack music” is imposed upon young Black ears in order to keep those youths in a position where they will be swiftly cast off into the prison industrial complex and be out of America’s white hair. The way in which chemical warfare was executed in the Iraq War was the same way it was executed in the urban centers of America.

*Mr. West is trying to say that being a dopeman is no longer something that Black youths in city slums have to take as their given future; they have further options, and the later election of President Barack Obama in 2008 was a well-timed reinforcement to this sentiment. Despite the ironic ending to this song, Mr. West aims to instil hope in his listeners, or at least an awareness of the system in which they find themselves at the bottom. There are other options, he says; Black youths don’t have to look up to Hova (Jay-Z) as one of their sole role models because rap and professional sports are not the only options for black youth … which brings me to my next point.

*In this era we see Mr. West revere Jay-Z as a Yahweh figure, a mentor, even though Ye laments that the superstar did not give him much of a thought during the early part of his career (exemplified in “Last Call” on College Dropout, “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” on Late Registration, and “Big Brother” on Graduation). That would change in the New Testament, however, when Mr. West would inflate his ego in order to prove himself to be a contender for Jay-Z’s throne as the Greatest Rapper on Earth Alive Today and the Greatest Of All Time (the GREAT GOAT).

*At the end of the Old Testament, we see the death of the Graduation Bear, that figure which served as a logo and branding marker for Mr. West’s early career; that image makes its last appearance on the cover of Graduation, signifying a moving-away from the college motif (i.e., the “student” persona) and a rebirth in musical spirit (i.e., the development of the “master” persona).

*808s and Heartbreak, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, Cruel Summer and Watch the Throne (for our purposes), and Yeezus, signify the New Testament as it stands presently. [This paragraph was written prior to the release of Life of Pablo.]

*808s introduced us to the new sound of Mr. West—autotune and synthesizers as opposed to soul samples and MIDIs. This likely occurred as a result of the recent death of Mr. West’s mother and his inability to express his deepest feelings through rapping alone. Fans were, of course, skeptical at first, but whenever Mr. West sets a trend, it catches on. After its release, autotune became a staple in radio-rap music.

*My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, arguably Mr. West’s magnum opus, solidified his place as a tier-one musician—not only as a rapper—but as a bona fide composer, a musical genius of our time to rival Bob Dylan in his, and Mozart before him. But we see no more of the pagan consciousness of Mos Def and Talib Kweli. West adopts a whole new entourage—Rick Ross, Kid Cudi, Pusha T, Bon Iver, Nicki Minaj, Big Sean, old Wu-Tang members, and his idol—though not for long—Jay-Z himself.

*In MBDTF, Kanye proved himself to be the equal of Jay-Z, if it were not the case that Mr. Carter was already falling off in terms of his lyricism.

*In Watch the Throne, a War in Heaven that Milton would have applauded, Mr. West effectively toppled Jay-Z from the GREAT throne: he kills his god.

*Prior to MBDTF and into the aftermath of the battle for the Throne, Mr. West surrounded himself with a following of rappers—the G.O.O.D Music crew—as his disciples, and released countless megahits, further solidifying his position as rap’s new father figure.

*Through it all, however, Mr. West never lost the awareness of his Blackness and the role he was expected to play by white America and the parasitic Rap-Jew music industry. Although he is aware of the internal conflict, he seems at loss to correct it, to harken back to a time of Kemet, a time of Zion. He appears, in the mid-New Testament, to be consumed by and assimilated into Babylon:

Inter-century anthems based off inner-city tantrums

Based off the way we was branded,

Face it, Jerome gets more time than Brandon,

And at the airport they check all through my bags

And tell me that it’s random.

I treat the cash the way the government treats AIDS:

I won’t be satisfied till all my niggas get it (get it?)

As long as I’m in Polo smiling they think they got me,

But they’d try to crack me if they could ever see a black me.

I thought I chose a field where they couldn’t sack me

If a nigga ain’t shootin’ a jump shot runnin’ a tack meet …

(“Gorgeous”)

You know white people, get money don’t spend it,

Or maybe they: get money, buy a business;

I’d rather buy eighty gold chains and go [ignorant]!

I know Spike Lee gone kill me but let me finish …

(“Clique”)

*Finally, Mr. West reveals himself as rap’s Jesus in the album of near-the-same name, released just earlier this year [2013]. It is profound and accomplished in its lyricism, arrangement, production, and intent. The sample of Nina Simone’s “Strange Fruit” in “Blood on the Leaves” alone speaks volumes. Many have said that Mr. West simplified and vulgarized his previously-verbose lyricism on this record, but I think he is simply more controlled and as outspoken as ever:

My momma was raised in the era when

Clean water was only served to the fair of skin.

Doin’ clothes you would have thought I had help

But they wasn’t satisfied unless I picked the cotton myself.

You see it’s broke-nigga racism, that’s that “Don’t touch anything in the store”

And it’s rich-nigga racism, that’s that “Come in please buy more.”

What’you want, a Bentley? Fur coat? A diamond ring?

All you black want all the same things.

(“New Slaves”)

*If these are not the sentiments, the biting satire and scathing truths, of a deeply-conflicted and internally split Black man, then call me Lena Dunham. Because Mr. West is able to express such blunt and directed remarks on a record that will reach tens of millions of American ears, we must acknowledge that he is an artist in control of the message he wishes to spread, that he is learning about himself even as he is telling us about ourselves, and that we as a country are most definitely no longer in the 20th Century.

Given the above analysis [which was written 3 years ago], it remains that during this late-New Testament period Mr. West was slowly loosing control of his Self. It seems now that the maximal inflation of West’s ego during the Yeezus era was bound to be trailed by a decline into near-insanity. Furthermore, the Rap-Jew in Mr. West seems to have gotten the best of his Rap-Pagan at this time, and whether or not the Kardashians, MK Ultra, and the Entertainment-Propaganda Industrial Complex had a whole lot to do with it is anyone’s theory. But I think that the man had simply lost his way, forgot who he was in the midst of fame, had begun praying to mystery gods, and had begun to maintain self-destructive practice.

This analysis of Kanye West illustrates two things for the purpose of our essay’s theme, the return of the Rap-Pagan. The first point is that while the Rap-Jew has reigned on the radio from ~2000AD-present, Mr. West has staged a front-guard against the forces of ignorance which seek to destroy the consciousness of the Black people. Secondly, while this may be the case, he has ultimately [at this time] failed to carry through the mission himself, and his position in the conscious Black community is nullified until he divorces Kim Kardashian.

While the Gospel of Kanye West may or may not be over and done with, the advance-guard of the Rap-Pagans may be just beginning. I tell you—when I heard Kendrick Lamar’s Section.80 in 2011, and the future King Kunta rattled off Rigamortis—I tell you—the Trumpence of Revelations sounded and I discovered that the body undergoing the rigor mortis referred to in the song’s title was the dying body of the Rap-Jew Conspiracy and the white supremacy national complex. I think that Kendrick will reclaim Kemet for the People, if they don’t do him like Pac first!

Stay tuned for the next installment to hear about the significance of staying “Humble” in:

KING KHEM: The Return of the Rap-Pagan, Part II.