RAFBN-Week 3

An original. Nuff said. The beginnings of American fiction, from literature to genre fiction. Crime stories...war...history...interracial sex. Yep. You heard me. Interracial sex. Look, don't let the movies, from 1939 to Daniel Day-Lewis take your mind away from the seminal nature of this novel by James Fennimore Cooper. It was the first American adventure story. Magua, the Huron war captain, was the model for all American serial killers, murderous criminals, etc. And yes, a cheezy love story set against the backdrop of the cruel French & Indian War. Gone With The Wind was bullsh*t compared to this.
It was also the beginnings of American sensationalism and market to sell books. The first entertainment stereotypical inklings of the bad Indian as savage...and "good" Indian as stoic and kind, bursts forth in the plot and in Cooper's publisher's advertisements. Cooper was literally the first American author to go on book tour.
By the way, the last of the Mohicans was Uncas. "Hawkeye" was Natty Bumpo, the white dude. Too often in the movies his character's the star, he gets the girl. Nope, it was Uncas. Please, read this classic. In it you will see the beginnings of everything from Hemingway to Zane. No lie...

Springtime of Pride

Now the winter of our discontent has turned glorious springtime thanks to Barack (still on pins and needles) and Felicia Pride, author and purveyor of TheBackList.

Though The Message, 100 Life Lessons From Hip Hop's Greatest Songs dropped late last year, Spring ushers a timely and welcome return. Boy do we need it, as politics get nastier and the patina of racial harmony's peeled away. As rappers become more nakedly commercial, disgusting, talentless, useless. As R. Kelly finally goes on trial.

The book is not a mere survey of top 100 hits, or a recounting of "Where was I when I heard THAT song." Instead, Pride interweaves personal reflections with the poetry and emotion rife in these, the BEST songs to produce a collection of affirmations that will not just take up permanent residence on your nightstand or coffee table, collecting dust. You'll actually READ this stuff, fanboys and girls. Lest you think I'm channelling Michael Eric Dyson, let me remind you I despise 90% of the Hip Hop so-called "culture" out there--especially in its contemporary face. Of course, the 10% makes the other 90% bearable. Then again, now we have icons like Snoop and Flav as buffoonish self-parodies, and Jay-Z is starting to remind me of the greedy formulaic white moguls he tried to innovate over and bypass as a kid just busting into the sick music biz. So what they're making money? Our souls (and theirs) are being forfeited in trade, and that's what we should be telling our kids. Perhaps they can get those souls back by reading Felicia's book?

Ocho Cinco as a not so distant mirror

My profound apologies to irreplaceable historian Barbara Tuchman for this title. Those of you who are NOT sports/American football fans, by all means do the Google or Wiki thing on my boy Chad Johnson then come back and comment. I love Chad. He is a Swiss Army Knife of metaphor (how's that for stacking?)...okay...full blown allegory, for everything that is wrong with (take your pick): professional sports, sports journalism and coverage, journalism in general, punditry, television, black folks, black males, literature, black literature, white people, Ohio, Cincinnati Ohio, our expectations of role models, our expectations-period, marketing, our kids, our kids in school, schools, life... even ABC's Democratic Candidate "debate" the other night. The Onion laid the satirical smackdown on that carnival...and The Situation Room, and any show on Fox News, by re-posting a photo of Hillary Clinton giving the thumbs up, and the caption: new Poll: Americans list "Bullshit"as the Number One issue most important to them. And doesn't Chad just encapsulate our love affair with spurious, specious bullshit and not reality? He's made it his medium. Chad, as the mirror. Ain't he pretty?
(n.b. for you non-sports folk, Chad minted the moniker "Ocho Cinco" as well, that's the number on his jersey, and of course the silly-ass "sports press corps" from talk radio to ESPN has perpetuated because it sounds so cool to the average moronic fan! Lovely!)
Before you declare me a lunatic, be sure you understand what metaphor and allegory truly mean. Nothing remotely literal. In the saga of the Ocho Cinco, one can find connections and flavors (or foul tastes) of just about every ailment in our current culture. Back down to the concrete and literal, Chad now he wishes to leave Cincinnati. I'm scared, you see, because there is a rumor around the Nation's Capital that he may end up here, with the Redskins. And the metaphors just'll keep on comin'. Happy Halloween...(cryptic and allegorical conclusion)