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Monday
Oct 20th

Newest national anthem for sustained slavery

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By Dwight Hobbes

"Crank That (Soulja Boy)," the hit single by Soulja Boy from the album is yet more evidence that Black youth have been sold down the river -- and they may as well be in chains to a slave plantation. Evidence that they've been sold out not only by white America, but by their own. "Crank That (Soulja Boy)," the hit single by Soulja Boy from the album is yet more evidence that Black youth have been sold down the river -- and they may as well be in chains to a slave plantation. Evidence that they've been sold out not only by white America, but by their own.

Pictured: Soulja Boy

The radio and video staple, going strong since August, came out as a single on Dec. 17 and there seems no end in sight to just how popular it will become. As you can imagine, the lyrics are abysmal. For instance, "Um jocking on you/and if we get to fightin'/den Um running in the street/you catch me at yo' local party/yes, I crank it everyday/haters git mad 'cause I got me some bathin' apes."

Bathing apes? This wretched excuse for a human being is bragging about fighting and demeaning Black girls that get in a tub with him so callously as to literally call them animals.

There's more: "I'm bouncin' on my toe/watch me super soak dat ho'." Incredibly enough, there are untold legions of adolescent girls and young women hip-hopping around, shrugging their hips, putting their best invulnerable diva face on, thoroughly delighted as they get down on the dance floor to this garbage.

"When rap left its origins of being social commentary and became this tripe, indignant champions whooped and hollered that it was just reflecting reality. No. It reinforced it..."

Seventeen-year-old Soulja Boy is leading kids around by the nose, laughing up his very rich sleeve at the end of the day, while those kids bop their heads, arrogantly posturing at clubs and parties where they stand every chance in world being gunned down by other kids whose greatest aspiration is to be the baddest you-know-what anybody ever saw.

"Crank That (Soulja Boy)" is part of the same national anthem that has droned in your children's ears for decades now, indoctrinating them into behavior in which violence and female-debasing sex are cultural tenets. When rap left its origins of being social commentary and became this tripe, indignant champions whooped and hollered that it was just reflecting reality. No. It reinforced it: reinforced a reality of willfully self- defeating ignorance against which responsible Black people have fought for years, trying to steer ghetto-bound kids into a classroom and toward a useful future.

If a groundswell movement – regardless how lucrative – had young Italian kids following in the footsteps of Al Capone and Lucky Luciano, or inspired young Jewish kids to be another Bugsy Siegel or Meyer Lansky, it would get shut down in a heartbeat. Civic organizations, people in power (from politicians to advertising executives to movie industry moguls; you name it) would pour so much pressure on the media that rap would've become a distant memory overnight. But it's only the lives of Black kids it is ruining before they barely get started, helping to ensnare youth in morally void, dead-end sensibilities and lifestyles by which misogynists and thugs are wildly revered. With, as The Last Poets once put it, their minds tied to their behinds, young Black men and women are defiantly – hell, proudly – marching to a cadence that ensures their marginalization in society. All while Black rap artists along with label execs and accountants of all colors luxuriate in gated communities where those same Black youngsters would be arrested on sight for loitering, suspicion of breaking and entering or otherwise being Black while breathing.

It's only Black kids. So MTV's TRL and BET's 106 & Park, the 2007 MTV Video Music Awards held at Kanye West's "Good Life Party" – none o
 

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