A Conservative's Gedanken Experiment regarding Hip-Hop
Jan, 15, 2009
Posted byAs the first black president is getting ready to be sworn into office it’s no wonder that anything bearing the label “Black” is regaining territory in the media. Moreover, everyone has to put in his two cents on matters unhesitatingly labeled black. Even the “Crunchy Con” Rod Dreher felt it necessary to drop a couple of lines on his unnecessary blog about something blacker than George Bush’s Barney in February 2006, about the black cultural manifestation par excellence: Hip-Hop.
The Dreher article “Obama and hip-hop’s future”, true to the beliefnet-style,
expresses an inspirational, spiritual and faithful criticism on Hip-Hop. The article actually consists of two opening sentences, a quotation, and three closing sentences. Dreher introduces the quotation his piece is grounded on by calling what he’s about to report an “interesting story” written by Stanley Crouch. Even though Crouch, being an “African-American jazz critic”, might be more qualified than the Crunchy Con as far as concerns black cultural manifestations, his reported story seems simply ridiculous to me:
A friend of mine who lives in California remarked to his grandson that he did not like the way rappers dressed or carried themselves. His grandson told him that he needs to stop living in the past and catch up before the plane leaves.
My friend noticed, as usual, that his grandson did not dress or carry himself in the style or manner he was defending. So he decided to ask him some questions. Shoot, said the young man, ready to straighten out his grandfather.
If you were on a plane waiting to take off, my friend asked him, and the pilot and the co-pilot came on with their pants sagging to the ground, covered with tattoos, mouths full of gold teeth and wearing braids, what would you do? His grandson told him he would get off the plane as fast as he could. No doubt.
My friend then asked if his grandson’s baby daughter had been hurt and she was taken to the emergency room, how would he feel if the doctors on duty looked like the men about to fly the plane. “I would,” said the younger man, “get her the hell out of there.”
At that point, my friend wondered what would happen to young black men who showed up looking for work but seemed more ready for a hip-hop performance than for a job?
The answer: They probably would not get hired. Case closed.
Dreher needed this pointless, senseless, ridiculous, anything but interesting Crouch-story to prepare the reader for the main message of the article contained in its final three sentences:
As for me, I don’t care what color you are, if you’re a kid who listens to hip-hop, I don’t want my kids playing with you. I want my kids to have consciences that find hip-hop’s lyrical content and themes repulsive. Which is to say, I want my kids to have a strong and uncompromising sense of character.
Way to go, Crunchy Con!
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