Paul Blackmon- "Why is your favorite genre of music your favorite genre of music?"

Ok, you know what guys? I'm changing the schedule. I'm going to post on Saturdays, now. I do it that way anyway, so I might as well make that the day. Just like last time, watch (well listen to in this case, but you know what I mean) the video first, then read the post. Ok? Ok.

Ok, you guys done? If that video didn't answer your question, then I will: my favorite genre of music right now is hip-hop. Now let's get this out of the way: "LOLOLOL HE'S BLACK, OF COURSE IT'S HIP-HOP TROLOLOLOL". We done? Good.

Now, I've said that my favorite genre is hip-hop, but the question is why that is so. Well, we'll have to go back pretty far for that. When I was much younger (I'm 20 now), from about 6-10 years old, I was only really exposed to gospel music and some R&B. A lot of Kirk Franklin, Hezekiah Walker, Yolanda Adams and Mary Mary (and all the church kids in my readership just punched the air), along with the occasional smattering of Stevie Wonder, Sam Cooke, Teddy Pendergrass or The Spinners (most of you will know who one out of those four people is, but that's fine, just look the rest up). Well, at the time, my older (by 15 years, so it's a considerable gap) brother was living with us. My brother loved hip-hop and played it all the time, as well as listening to it in his Walkman every time he went out (yes, Walkman; we're talking about the late 90's here). Well, my parents didn't like what he was listening to, or at least, didn't like me listening to what he listened to. So for a while, I thought of hip-hop as something inherently wrong or something that would get me in trouble. So when I was about 12 and found out that Christian hip-hop existed, I was confused. I thought "This music that has so many bad words and things that my parents don't want me hearing is Christian, too? WHAT? *sound of 12-year-old mind being blown*" So at that point, I asked my mom to get me my first hip-hop album, KJ-52's It's Pronounced Five-Two. Now, I was totally blown away by this. It felt really familiar (remember, almost all of the rhythms in hip-hop come from gospel and R&B, so I'd heard them before), but it was still completely different from anything I'd heard. It sounded like my brother's music, but wouldn't get me in trouble (which as a 12 year old is really your first concern). Now for a few years, everything progressed in that fashion. Christian hip-hop was what I always listened to, and artists like Toby Mac, KJ-52, and later B.Reith were on perpetual repeat on my iPod.

That is, until I got to high school. In my freshman year, I heard a lot of things I hadn't heard before. I was really exposed to secular music, especially hip-hop, for the first time. Most of it I didn't really like (as is the case now), but some of it really caught my ear. Artists like Lupe Fiasco (I had only heard Kick, Push by this time, but I really liked it) and OutKast had had spots on my music list for a couple years, but only one or two songs (again, I wanted to stay out of trouble with my parents, but still listen to what I wanted). Then sophomore year, my brother left the house suddenly (those who know me know why, and those who don't just don't, and I'd like to keep it that way). Well, like any kid who is suddenly without his big brother, I missed him like crazy. He'd been literally four steps away for years, and now he's gone. It occurred to me that my only connection to him was hip-hop. I started actually listening to his music in secret, waiting until my parents were asleep or out of the house. The funny thing was, it wasn't all bad like I thought it was. I quickly learned that hip-hop is just like everything else, there are examples of high-quality and low-quality and of appropriate and helpful subject matter and inappropriate, detrimental subject matter everywhere.

That brings us to post-graduation, when my brother came back. By this time, I had really grown to appreciate hip-hop as an art form, and had started to see the history behind it. And there was a period where I wanted to show that to him, to get his approval for my taste in music. So I did; every time I found something I'd think "would he like this? would he approve of this?", and if my answer was yes, I'd show it to him. Every time I showed him something or played something for him, I was nervous. His opinion meant everything to me; it was like if he didn't like what I was playing, he didn't approve of me, and I needed him to approve of me. He's my big brother, of course I want that, right?

Well, that didn't go so well. After a while, it started to tire me out. I spent so long wondering what he thought about my taste in music, and me in general, that I wasn't me anymore; I was a younger him, and that isn't good. Like I said in the previous post, one need only be oneself to be "real", and I wasn't doing that. So I realized that I needed to put less emphasis on what he would like and more on what I like.

That brings us to now. I love hip-hop now because of the passion in it, because of what happens when someone puts their entire soul in a verse. I love hip-hop now because of how it evolves and changes into something different when you tweak it a little bit. I love it when people try to defend and stay true to what hip-hop was, but I also love it when people try to push the boundaries of what it currently is. I hear a lot of people say two things. Number one is that hip-hop is dead, that years of being bastardized and watered down in order to make it marketable has broken it beyond repair and that it can never go back to the way it was (part of the message of the poem Hip-Hop Lullaby by Phil Kaye, which is right below this paragraph. Go ahead and check that out ^_^)

Number two is kind of an offshoot of number one. Number two is that hip-hop has no value now. It's just some idiot saying the same vapid crap over and over on a terribly simple (or even worse, overly sampled) beat. This kind of blanket statement ignores artists like XV, whose song Everybody's Nobody is the song you heard in the video up at the top, or like Lupe Fiasco, who is one of most lyrically deep hip-hop artists in the business today (an argument can be made for him being the single deepest artist). I agree that hip-hop has problems. I agree that it has been sacrificed at the altar of the free market, just like blues and Rock 'n' Roll before it. But it is not dead. It's in the ICU right now, but it's not dead. Artists like Dumbfoundead and Wax on the secular side and Theory Hazit and Braille on the Christian side are rhyming their hearts out, but no one hears them. That is the problem with current hip-hop, that talent is not being heard. That which has the ability to make tons of money is what is being heard. And that is what needs to stop if hip-hop is to be what it was: a powerhouse that shaped an entire generation and culture in this country. Hip-hop to me has always been proof positive that anyone can be heard, anyone can express themselves. Don't have the money to buy an instrument and learn to play it? That's ok. Just grab a pen and some paper and get to writing. Hip-hop to me is truly open to everyone. Anyone can pick it up, but you will only be accepted if you prove your skill. That is why I love hip-hop. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle (and if anyone gets that reference, I will buy them a cheeseburger).


 

Lydia Bennet- "What makes a REAL man? What makes a real woman?"

Ok, before you start reading, I just have one thing to say. I'm a day late on this one, and I know that's a bad start to a blog series. Sorry about that. But this one's good, guys. I promise. 

Ok, so before you read this, I want you to watch this video up here. Don't worry, I'll wait. *taps his toes and looks around* Ok you done? Alright. So, I was asked what makes a real man/woman. We'll start with "real man". The question of what makes a real man has been around since men could identify themselves in such a way. Commercials for products aimed at men try to tell men what it means to be a "real man". I, personally, am a Christian, and the Bible also tells men what it means to be a "real man". Well... I have something a bit different to say. There is NO SUCH THING as a "real man". Life is much to diverse for that to be possible.

Now, I know what you're thinking. What do I mean by "NO SUCH THING"? Well, the problem with saying that a certain set of traits makes a man a "real man" is that in so doing, anyone who does not possess those traits is not a "real man", no matter what the reason is for that absence. So what are those people? Those people possess a Y chromosome, so they are genetically male (which is a sticky subject in itself, what with gender identification being very personal, so we'll stick with that definition of maleness). Most people would say "A real man is someone who, you know, 'mans up' and takes responsibility for his actions". Well, that's all well and good until you think about it. Shouldn't we all do that? Shouldn't any human being who makes a decision and takes action take responsibility for the consequences of that action, whatever they may be? If your answer was yes (and I worry about you if it wasn't), then why is taking responsibility for one's actions specifically a manly trait? Why are things like courage, bravery, coolness under pressure and decisiveness immediately associated with men, when women can be and are each and every one of those things every day across this country?

As a man myself, I am sold a vision of what true manliness is hundreds of times a day by commercials for beer, deodorant, soup, razors, and countless other products who want to make me "look/feel/smell/eat/have sex with women like a man". As Guante says in this video, that makes no sense. It's totally degrading, which is something that women figured out years ago and got stopped. Why have men not done the same? The corporate marketing machine would have me think that if I'm not clean shaven, buying and using deodorant (so women will like the way I smell, and therefore have sex with me), eating a specific brand of soup, and sometimes having sex with women on a regular basis, I am not a "real man". To those of you who know sme, I pose one question: does this ring true to you? To those who are men or have a man in their lives who does not do these things, does this ring true to you? Are these people not real men? Are males who decide "you know what, I'm gonna be me and not care what other people think about that" not real men?

The same can be said for you ladies, I think. There is NO SUCH THING as a real woman. I've seen a lot of people point to pictures of Christina Hendricks and Scarlett Johansson and Sofia Vergara and say "Ah, see? THOSE are real women!" Well, not so fast. I understand the message here: the supermodels we see in magazines are all airbrushed and Photoshopped to Hell and back to look even skinnier than they already are. That natural skinniness itself was (we think) obtained in an unhealthy manner. These women are reversing that trend and showing people that it's ok to have curves as a woman. And, in my personal opinion, that's a great thing. Ladies (and keep in mind, I have a girlfriend), listen to me. Curves are ok, in fact, curves are AWESOME. However, it is not ok to tell women and girls who do not have curves and who are naturally skinny no matter what they do that they are not real women and can never be real women because of their body shape. Isn't that idea what women have been fighting for years to try to eradicate? The idea that a woman can be tossed aside and turned into a "background character" as Guante put it for more curvaceous women and marginalized like that is astounding in 2012, yet we still continue to operate as if it's Gospel.

So you might be asking yourself right now, "Ok, that's great. But what should we do, then?" I'll tell you what you should do. BE YOURSELF. That's right. Be yourself. Your awesome, completely individual, totally unique, hand-crafted self. You are here for a reason. Be you. Be proud of who you are and strive to make yourself into a better version of yourself, not to be a "real man" or "real woman". Be a better you. If we all do that, the idea of a "real" anything will be left in the dust of our present as we press forward toward a brighter future.