The LAD Writes

catharsis- purification or purgation of the emotions primarily through art.

[theladwrites]

Loss

I haven’t written on this blog in a while. I’ve allowed life and work to stifle my creativity and I can only hold myself at fault. Also, if you’ve looked at the news, there’s a lot out there to digest and at times saying or typing nothing feels like the only sane way to process the pain, the confusion and even the euphoria.

I’m writing because I’ve lost a friend. We weren’t overwhelmingly close, I really only got to know her over the span of about a year or two before we finished college. But what I discerned about her, and her relationship with the company she kept, was that she was a consistently honest person. 

She and her fiancee (who is a great friend of mine and who my heart is hurting for the most right now) never placated or presented a false narrative about their issues, their pain, their mistakes, they always (for lack of a better expression) kept it 100.

And my friend did so in good and bad times. I’m proudest of her and admire her so much because she fought Lupus and disease openly. She knew what the disease was doing to her and somehow found a way to express strength for others and always shared emotions and frustrations and sadness and even photos of what it did to her body.

She never did this to be selfish, she did it because people needed to know and need to know what it looks like when people are struggling and suffering and we can’t see them. It would have been easy for her to keep a smiling, well-organized and beautiful face for the constant gaze of social media. Instead she expressed her pain and I still can’t fathom that courage but I will miss and I am glad to have witnessed it.

My friend’s honesty is also what made her a joy to be around and why people cherished her so dearly. An insult, a salient point or strong criticism, a comforting word or even an incredible baked good could come from her all in the same 10 minutes of being in her presence. She was loyal to her friends and family, almost to a fault, and was often able to recognize her own mistakes before anyone could call her on them.

Ultimately, she was the kind of person we often think we are. That entertainers who are “too real” sell records pretending to be: genuine. She was that for better or for worse, but often for the best. It was never for anyone’s approval or praise it was just her nature, and she made scores of people better because of it.

I’m so glad you’ll get some rest and tranquility but dammit I will miss you so much and already do. Fuck lupus, fuck cancer and fuck what these debilitating maladies can do to people who did nothing to court them but live their lives. Sleep well, Amber Hicks.

[theladwrites]

Palabras

I figured if I just started to hit the keys the rest of it would come easily.

Life is a very, very peculiar and strange beast. I've internalized so many thoughts, feelings and worries over the past few months that I can sometime hardly stomach my solitude. I remain curious and furious about how I've allowed myself to be shaped the way I am and why change seems to be the most complex and simple notion of our human experience. It's like an element constantly existing and working, able to be manipulated in tangible ways but still extremely mysterious and at times unfathomable.

My life is filled with a decent amount of success, enjoyable moments, laughs and a random moments of pure unadulterated joy, but it is slightly insane how much life changes when your career and your occupation become more than short spurts between collegiate experiences or like a movement from one island to another before reaching a landlocked mass.

I often spend time with friends and co-workers over lunch, at bars, at their homes and I try to fill the air with interesting conversation and on every occasion I end up discussing work and its toils and frustrations. I know I'm far from alone, but I want to spend more time discussing ideas. I want to be able to walk away from discussions feeling closer to making sense of this imperfect world. Whether its the conflicts in Gaza, Syria, Ukraine and throughout the African continent or the continuous police brutality in our country. I dread knowing that I'll walk away from those talks with the tepid response of, "Well, that's just the way it is" or acknowledging that those evils are too long standing to be combated.

God, what a small feeling.

What a small feeling knowing that the main things that would give me more happiness in life are all essentially tied to my lack of financial freedom or my need to feel tied to professional standards. I've spent my entire life doing things the "right" way. That doesn't mean I haven't mistreated people, used people, lied or done other ethically questionable things to get ahead in life. Those are more human nature and survival tactics than a undeniable desire to be a terrible person and to mistreat others.

No, what I'm getting at is the fact that I feel trapped. As much as desire more freedom and the ability to express myself more creatively, there's the screaming wall of rationality telling me those are simply the dreams of a young person who wants to escape the mundane structure of typical American life. I entirely recognize that life isn't some feel good summer movie experience where a person is whisked away to a foreign land in search of enlightenment. I don't suppose I'm sure of what that desire is or how to stoke that flame responsibly, but I know I desire more than this. I know I crave more than the typical, but at the same time I like the idea of structure, of the familiarity of family and its simplicity. 

This is essentially the brain dump of a person who wants to give more to the world, who wants to feel and see more, but also knows that life is not about having every dream be made reality, but about recognizing that having those aspirations means there's imagination and creativity still locked away somewhere.

I want more, but I'm not sure if the sacrifice will be worth it. I fear the judgment, the whispers of "immaturity" or "naivete" or trying to run from reality or responsibility. But, what do all those trappings mean other than having an impressive social "brand," a nice CV or resume or LinkedIn page? If the measure is still just awards and acclaim and people telling you're doing something "important" what if that never amounts to happiness. How do you celebrate that when, even if it leads to change, it all feels so minimal and fleeting. And when it often leads to nothing?

I will go back to work. I will socialize. I will go back to the same bed, do the same routines, scour the internet and other media for some kind of way of making it through the mire. I will have time to be contemplative before the next distraction and opportunities will probably pass me by, while I will seize others with fervor and determination. I will constantly wonder about those things that pass, I will dream and see other versions of myself some preposterous others more tangible. The seemingly tangible ones will eat at my psyche, while I order the same sandwich with the same drink at the same place I eat every day. While I call the same people, text the same people, watch the same shows, listen to the same podcasts and eventually type some rambling, discordant post like this again. 

Sitting. Wondering how and where I fit. Wondering where and why chance and fortune, luck and inspiration are so fleeting. And contemplating if I'd grow bored with their accessibility.

My name is Lance Dixon, today is 10 August 2014. If something crazy happens to me, good, bad or indifferent, please don't let this get plastered on a shitty graphic on some website or TV show. I doubt that would happen though, this is hardly well-written enough, or of enough import to really mean much about me or who I am.

I'm just tired, kind of sick (health-wise, not in a more pejorative sense) and full of thoughts.

Yep.

[theladwrites]

The College Dropout Reaches a Decade

The 2004 movie Brown Sugar features a repeated question from Sanaa Lathan's character, "So, when did you fall in love with Hip-Hop?"

It is both literal and a metaphor for her character's relationship with the male lead played by Taye Diggs. In the literal sense my answer is 2004 when I first heard The College Dropout.

Delusional "Hip-Hop heads" like to project the idea that they've been hip to quality rap music their entire life. As if they were legitimately nodding their heads to and reciting lines from Black Moon, De La Soul and scores of other groups in their infancy and toddler years. They act like it's some sort of sanctimonious act to admit that modern artists can cause you to appreciate the past.

So yes, not Illmatic, not Ready to Die, not All Eyez on Me, not Stakes is High or whatever you consider the art form at its most revered level. But, The College Dropout is my choice.

Kanye was the first rapper that I felt like I could really understand, because he described things I felt. He was different than the excess of the "shiny suit" era of Bad Boy and the golden tanks of No Limit. It wasn't even the Diplomats or Ruff Ryders. 

Kanye rapped lines like "like it take a lot more than du-rags to get you waves," and I got it. He was using metaphor and simile to describe his struggles in a relatable way (I learned the hard way that it isn't easy) and doing so with comedy, with honesty, with the kind of emotional cleansing that seems common now in Hip-Hop.

It's the kind of stuff that was relegated to album cuts, not put in lead singles.Sure "Slow Jamz" is how he made his introduction to most people as a solo artist, but "Through the Wire," "All Falls Down" and "Jesus Walks were right there in the conversation. 

Sure, this album was bloated with too many skits, with some average songs like "Get 'Em High" and "Breathe in Breathe Out" and Kanye still had breath control issues. But, this was the first time a modern album felt to me like an education.

I didn't grow up with Bomb Squad production or producers like Q-Tip, Prince Paul, Large Professor, Jay Dee, Pete Rock and even Organized Noize digging in the most unique crates. But, when I heard the samples on this album I was inspired to find out more about the genres origins. I started listening to all the staple songs like "Rock Box," "The Breaks," "Planet Rock," etc. 

From there it was just a natural growth. I started taking in as many genres as I could and trying to educate myself on as much as possible. I became enamored with the past thanks to Kanye's mining of it for his album. 

I can't call The College Dropout my favorite Kanye album, but I can say it's the most important one in his discography. Not just because it's his debut, but because his essence as an artist is here. His self-aggrandizing, his struggles with his religion, his rap content, his pain, his heartbreak. 

Artists like Lupe Fiasco, Drake, Kid Cudi, Wale and even Chance the Rapper might find it more difficult to enter the rap landscape if not for Kanye's work. 

Yes, he's a loudmouth, he's brash, he's slightly ridiculous, brazen and occasionally offensive. But, I'll never forget how I felt the first time I heard this album from start to finish, or where I was when I did it. The Walmart I purchased it from. The irony I felt in listening to this album to help me get through rough patches in college.

And I'll never forget the monologue at the end of "Last Call." It's the kind of story that now only makes it into all caps non sequiturs on Twitter or into "rants" at concerts. 

He may be Yeezus now, but he'll always be somebody from the Chi' who was ill and got a deal with the hottest rap label around many mayonnaise-colored Benzes ago.

[theladwrites]

Out of Control

Between working and needing time to "process" and let the smoke clear, after a week I'm ready to share some thoughts on "the greatest words that have ever rhymed and not rhymed and then were put to a beat and rapped by a human being ever, oh man, in 2013."

The reality of that description is Kendrick Lamar's verse on Big Sean's non-album track "Control" (produced by No I.D. and featuring Jay Electronica, by the way, but we'll get back to that).

I've taken some time to really think about Kendrick's verse and to stop laughing hysterically at tweets about it. Why has it blown so many minds and demolished the internet? Why does it feel so different? Why are people treating it like the atomic bomb of Hip-Hop for the summer of 2013?

I think the popularity and usage of of Twitter is an obvious factor. Even before "Black Twitter" was featured prominently on Buzzfeed and CNN, this year has seemed different and the numbers back it up. People are reacting more via the social network and this verse came at the perfect time.

Beyond that, let's take a look at Hip-Hop in 2013. Sure we've had releases from Jigga, Kanye, A$AP Rocky, Mac Miller, Tyler, the Creator, J. Cole and Wale, and even less-heralded releases by Killer Mike/El-P as Run the Jewels and Ghostface Killah. Artists like 2 Chainz, Young Jeezy, Future, Drake, Ace Hood and the above-mentioned have dominated radio (including T.I. via "Blurred Lines"). But, to interpolate the Joker in The Dark Knight it's mainly been "sooo boring."

Insert Kendrick Lamar to shake things up a bit.

Now, let's clear some things up. If you really listen to Kendrick's verse it's maybe not even the best thing he's done in 2013 as far as lyrical potency. But, why it's ground-breaking is in the delivery, partially because of that list of people and because beef is still a necessary part of Hip-Hop.

Whether you subscribe to the importance of beef (even if you factor in Mos and Kweli's definition) or not, it is needed in the culture. Rap has always been about being boisterous: repping your clothes, honeys, crew, lyrical or sexual ability, your street, your city, your coast. Whatever you own or owned you flaunted it. That goes beyond the superficial, it's in "intellectual" and "backpack" rap too. Why enter the game if you don't think you can make an impact that no one's made? It's sensible.

But, beef in the 21st century mainly gets squashed before the hamburger patty can even be formed. When Ludacris was at odds with Big Sean and Drake over the drop-off punchline flow it went on for a while, but then ended. When Drake and Common exchanged lyrical barbs it was almost entirely subliminal and the animosity ended after a few weeks. Even past major Hip-Hop conflicts have usually pitted posse against posse, artist against artist, or coast/region against the like. And typically these shots are subliminal or laced in clever wordplay. If they're direct they come in the form of satire or parody. 

Sure, Jay-Z and Nas used each other's names. Yes, Ice Cube took direct shots at his former crew. Yeah, KRS-One said Marley Marl and MC Shan rhymed liked they were "gay." And rappers like Game and Joe Budden haven't shied away from conflict, but direct naming of targets or competition is a rare practice. 

So in the age of micro-blogging, lightly-sauteed beef and ambivalence, Kendrick names people he's collaborated with, been pictured with, and claims as homies and then turns like a star wrestler gone rogue.

Jay may have said, in his oft-interpreted rhyme, that people debated who was the best out of him, Nas and Biggie, but that came out of respect.

J. Cole mentioned (on a song featuring Kendrick) that his album dropped on the same day as Kanye (and a few others), but there was still deference to the "legends." And most of the rappers releasing material that day shrugged off the potential moment to boast.

Kendrick Lamar comes in and recognizes what's happening and decides to "raise the bar." I don't see it as a diss, but as the expression of frustration. Kendrick knows these artists because he's worked with them, and wants them to work on the same level as he (and critics) feel he did on his major label debut. 

The "King of New York" boast is a bold one, but if Joell Ortiz, Mickey Factz, Fred Da Godson and Papoose are among the representative first responders (Rap Genius compiled all the responses here), than what does that say about the city's status in rap? Or what would fans at Governor's Ball or his show in Roseland Ballroom say?

Ultimately, I see this as a miniature sea change for the genre. Kendrick didn't rap a verse that will be memorized by kids and fans, but it will be the subject of discussion for quite some time. It will make people re-evaluate the chummy nature of the rap game. Fans and artists seem to fear beef escalating to the level where it creates two more martyrs for the genre, but a few artists have come to blows in recent years and kept the guns out of it. There were and will still be inexplicable casualties, but the art form shouldn't have to suffer.

And the art is what it's all about. Hip-Hop is a form of creative expression, if there's no challenge, what's the point? 

Salute to Kendrick Lamar. He may not be the elder statesman, but he had the guts to make a statement. And beyond hurried response tracks, let's see if this is the catalyst to get Hip-Hop back to a more hallowed spot. 

P.S.: Do yourself a favor and listen to Jay Electronica's verse again. It's not his most groundbreaking, but it's better than you probably remember from your first few listens.

[theladwrites]

Woah.

Woah.

It's the only word I could find when the verdict was read that freed George Zimmerman and incensed a great deal of the American and even international populace.

It's still tough to find the proper way to express my feelings about this situation. Mainly because I'm a journalist by trade, so I'm made to value impartiality and being unbiased. And I'm also an African-American male, from Florida, who's only about 6 years older than Trayvon Martin was when he died.

There's a sadness in the fact that I didn't expect a different outcome than the one presented on Saturday night. The signs were there from the outset of the trial and even before it. The defense was more polished and prepared throughout the majority of the trial. And while analysts attempted to point to the testy relationship between the defense and the judge presiding over the case, ultimately the jury had the final say.

The jury was made up of mainly white women and mothers, and people failed to think of them potentially sympathizing with Mrs. Zimmerman and not Sybrina Fulton. 

Maybe this feels so painful because an unarmed child is dead, and not a soul from Sanford, Fla. to Sao Paulo, Brazil knows exactly what happened between those two and who was truly at fault. An there's still something inherently troubling about a grown man being able to claim self defense against a child that was both smaller than him and at a disadvantage in armament. 

Notice I haven't brought up race when it comes to the conflict between the two. Certainly that plays a factor, but I'm hurt by this for the same reason I'm hurt for the three families who had to say goodbye to their children when a plane crashed in California, likely due to negligence. 

I feel pain thinking about cousins who live in Orlando and don't always make the brightest decisions. What could happen to them? Why should I even have to worry about that amid all the things that serve as hazards to our humanity?

I think of Don West's daughters. I think of them probably out on that Saturday night enjoying the life of a person who will never feel what I or Trayvon Martin feel and felt. Sure they could face discrimination because our country still has some trouble with treating women equally, but their life is and has been pretty solid.

They were white girls, they are white women, they will be old white women. And thanks to their father's profession and whatever they (and their future partners if they marry) accomplish in life they will probably never be viewed as a hostile threat. If even the slightest hint of harm comes their way they will be protected and catered to, in unfathomable ways. 

So again I say woah. 

As Black people cling to religion because it's easy and then settle into stagnation. As a few remain riled up and try to appeal to ears that will soon go deaf. Even as I write this truncated treatise mainly about my feelings and reaction, it does nothing for Sybrina or Tracy, or any of his family or friends. It doesn't do anything for a child that's scared to walk home from the store in the South Side of Chicago (and not because of someone who doesn't look like him). A kid who is currently afraid to flip up his hood in a Florida suburb. 

Has social media made us more powerless? Has the ability for anyone with a working keyboard and dexterity to be a pontificator actually done more harm than good for creative expression in times of trouble? I think older generations would say yes. I think young people would reluctantly say yes, while feeling good about our technological advancements but ultimately powerless.

And that feeling of a lack of ability to make change, or feeling that marches, vigils, letters and phone calls won't change things leaves me with a familiar and sobering response.

Woah.

[theladwrites]

Magna Carta...Holy Hell

Shawn Carter has released a new album. That statement has been event-worthy since 2006 or so. Ever since his brief retirement from the rap game post "The Black Album," Jay-Z has done a lot to become larger than life. Presiding over Def Jam, creating labels via concert promotion companies, having a baby with and further publicizing his relationship with the biggest female entertainer in the world, starting a sports agency, moving a sports team to another state, changing the RIAA, and making a few albums.

I leave the music last, because at this point that's where it seems Jay has placed it. It shouldn't seem that strange to career-long fans, or those who know how Jay entered the rap game. Jay debuted at 27 years old, boasting about his already substantive fortune through the drug game. If anything he was more narrator and actor than music-maker. He acted out the mafioso role already made popular by Biggie, Wu-Tang Clan and Nas and then implanted his stories. His first album, "Reasonable Doubt" had songs like "D'Evils" and "Regrets" that buttressed more boastful tracks like "Brooklyn's Finest" and "Can't Knock the Hustle." But even on songs like "Feelin' It" and "Dead Presidents II" he's lamenting over the problems of marijuana use and how he was living for his friend who got shot in the streets. Even at his career's infancy, Jay didn't seem completely satisfied with excess.

17 years later, Jay-Z has more excess than just about anyone in entertainment, and of course he's still not really okay with it, even as he brags about it. And that awkward relationship is what "Magna Carta... Holy Grail" is all about, even through its much-ballyhooed presentation. After an invasive Samsung marketing campaign based in consumption, fans are treated the tales of a man who can consume more than they'd ever dream of.

Don't get me wrong, unlike many I actually kind of like this album. It's unbalanced, it feels rushed and in a lot of ways Jay-Z is showing his age. He very clearly borrows from the flows of his younger contemporaries, and at times seems to be struggling to keep up with his producers mainly on Timbaland's songs. But, tracks like "Tom Ford," "SomewhereinAmerica" and "BBC" are a bit too infectious to discount. And, some flat metaphors aside, songs like "Oceans" and "Picasso Baby" are pretty solid too. Songs like "Versus" and "Beach is Better" show how a little more time and polishing might have resulted in a better overall product. 

Perhaps the album feels bloated because a certain Mr. West released the trippy, electronic sex romp "Yeezus" in a sleek 10-song package last month. Or maybe it's because Jay is still trying to force multiple ideas into his listener's heads, many of which are not new. A song like "Jay-Z Blue" about the rapper's lack of a father influencing how he parents Blue Ivy is a nice sentiment, but really an updated and rehashed fusion of "Moment of Clarity" and the 2012 single "Glory." Or the Illuminati denials still present in "Heaven" after we've heard them in guest verses on songs like "Free Mason" and "Hot Tottie." 

What this album really shows is that Jay-Z is unwilling to change his approach. He is a rapper's rapper, made in the nineties. He's not making a "Yeezus" or even a "Life Is Good" like Nas. His pain and introspection can't sound as authentic as the latter, because they're still masked by too much opulence. He can't be as experimental as the former, because there's a certain swagger to being a business, man. Shawn Carter is a legacy brand, a rapper who now tends to remain above the frays of beef or social media overexposure. So it's weird to hear him reference Miley Cyrus twerking only a few lines after saying that he's not really into the Internet and making a drug reference to decry Instagram. His Twitter "AMA" was funny because Jay is a pretty clever and humorous guy, but it also slightly felt like my middle-aged uncle getting a 15-minute lesson on how to use Twitter and retweet people, and then going to town (it's also why "American Gangster" remains his last great solo work, it was a trip into the eighties). 

Jay-Z is not fine wine, he's not getting better with age--he's getting richer. He's making more and more money through avenues that have nothing to do with music. After his first retirement he took over a Memphis Bleek studio session and made "Dear Summer," an awesome collaboration of Jay and Just Blaze at their finest. He bid farewell to the season he had dominated album after album in the late 90s and early 2000s. So perhaps instead of listening to "Dead Presidents III" we should be asking Jay for a "Dear Summer II." Say goodbye to the rap game, Jay, or at least take an extended break.

Jay has often compared his Hip-Hop career to NBA legend Michael Jordan's basketball career, and it seems like we're getting closer to the Washington Wizards phase. Jay needs to start depending on the brand like Jordan did, because the game is changing and the rap equivalent of that infamous 1997 Allen Iverson crossover could be coming (or might've already come). 

Then again, while Allen Iverson won Rookie of the Year that season and got the better of Jordan that night, Jordan's team eventually won an NBA championship. "MCHG" could just be an off night, perhaps Jay has more greatness in store. 

[theladwrites]

What Number Three Means to Me

I'm a sports fan. I'm a native Miamian. I've been rooting for the Heat for a long time. I don't want to get too deep into my credentials, just know that I was in the building for this and I remember going to a game when the Heat played here. I'm done proving myself. (I'll also probably never be able to write about them professionally, unless I do it for ESPN who seems to not care as much about objectivity anymore.)

Last night my home town team did what it was expected to do, but in doing so also overcame some adversity and towering odds. They beat the best basketball organization of the last decade not named the Lakers and did so through the contributions of players that aren't on one-name status to the casual fan. 

In the Heat's four Finals victories there was always key scoring from a bench player or someone who wasn't nos. 1, 3 or 6. In game 2 it was Mario Chalmers with 19 points and Chris Andersen and Ray Allen contributing 22 points. In game 4 Allen came through with another 14 as the stars played to their maximum capacity. In game 6 it was Chalmers with another 20, and 18 from Allen and Shane Battier. And of course last night Battier was huge again. 

I indicate all that to show that this title and the two that came before it were about the team dynamic. People have lobbied hate on the Heat for its (occasionally misplaced) swagger and braggadocio, but you have to imagine what it feels like for this organization.

The Heat entered the league in 1988 as an expansion team and their earliest rise to prominence came in the time of Jordan. Pat Riley left the New York Knicks, brought in talent like Alonzo Mourning and Tim Hardaway and, much like the current Heat team, surrounded that nucleus with other role players. But the closest taste of success for those teams was the Eastern Conference semi-finals. 

The Heat existed in a city that was (and still is very much so) obsessed with high school football, and the dynasties of the Miami Hurricanes football team. Even the Florida Panthers reached the chance at playing for a title before the Heat did. After the departure of Mourning, the dissolution of the team and the eventual ascension of Pat Riley into management, the team was in the dark. 

Enter a shooting guard from Marquette, Dwyane Tyrone Wade. 

Fresh off leading his team to the Final Four he seemed like a solid pick, but there were concerns over his attacking style of play, he seemed too brash and had some academic issues while at Marquette. 

All he did in his rookie season was re-energize a team that had Eddie Jones as its main attraction and, with the help of a now-household name like Lamar Odom, got to the second round of the playoffs and challenged a historically-good Indiana Pacers team to a six-game series. 

Most people know what follows. We trade Odom, Butler and others for Shaquille O'Neal lose to the Pistons in the '05 ECF, then best them the next year and win it all. Shaq eventually departs, in '07-'08 we go 15-67, Wade comes back and in the next few years plays at an MVP level (especially in '08-'09) until a certain "Decision" and the rest is recent history.

It's hard for outsiders to fathom that there are real fans of this team, and harder for them to picture a time when the Heat weren't the main attraction. But, they forget the heyday and even the decline of Dan Marino with the Miami Dolphins, the brief frenzy the Marlins inspired with two World Series titles in six years (1997 and 2003), and as I mentioned--The U. 

Once a team tastes success and has a market and a city that can support it, there's going to be a shift and boost in confidence. 

People forget that it was a long journey for another expansion team, the Dallas Mavericks, before they won it all in 2011. And even still they'll never eclipse the Cowboys. 

I can't speak on the fair-weather fans who are simply attached to the team because it's the cosmopolitan thing to do, or because they love LeBron. I'm not them.

I'm the kid who nearly cried from frustration when I saw the Pistons get a chance to play the Spurs after we had worked so hard. Who didn't want to "Be Like Mike" because he tormented my team. 

I'm the guy who didn't even want LeBron, who hated LeBron and his Cavaliers teams, who wanted Wade to convince an Amare Stoudamire or Carlos Boozer to join us (probably for the best that those things didn't happen). 

So for three years I've found myself in this interesting position. A fan that's still more accustomed to heartbreak than success and hate. Who wonders what the future holds for this team and for Miami sports. The Heat are on top now, but they were seven years ago as well and tumult shortly followed. 

I'll enjoy their success, but remain ambivalent. Because just like the trajectory of a summer storm, or the rise and fall of a wave, the sports world is ultimately unpredictable. I'll continue to keep my rooting interest, and hope that along the way the world will recognize that there are far more fans like me than the media showcases. 

[theladwrites]

Yeezus Walks and He Isn't Very Happy

I've listened to Kanye West's sixth album once and I don't think I'll need to hear it again by consciously choosing to. It will have to be if a friend decides to play it or if it's on in public or at a party. 

Kanye West has amassed a following that couldn't fully be comprehended until this album's title and its mission of record label rebellion were announced and his plans carried out. (The blasphemy and sacrilege that people thing he's positing are slightly baseless, especially if that person has ever called Shawn Carter: Young Hova or Hov.) If you scanned Randall's Island on the final night of the Governor's Ball Music Festival in New York a few weeks ago, you saw a racially, socio-economically diverse sea of thousands of people waiting to hear one man rap, sing and scream with a backing band shrouded in darkness for most of the show. As he said on "Devil in a New Dress" from "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy," it's "hard to be humble when you stuntin' on a Jumbotron." 

It was a marvel to see his drawing power, but also a reminder of just how far Hip-Hop has come and perhaps a dangerous reminder of the side effects of that journey.

Kanye West is talented, there's no arguing that. He's taken chances in Hip-Hop and in popular music that artists of his ilk would never consider. He's introduced those hungry enough to seek out his samples to artists as diverse as Aphex Twin, Gil Scott-Heron, Laura Nyro, King Crimson and probably even younger fans to Daft Punk. He showed vulnerability in his music and an emotional veracity that would far predate artists like Drake, Kid Cudi and Kendrick Lamar.

Despite his overwhelming narcissism and ego, he entered Hip-Hop as an underdog. He was the antithesis of what Roc-A-Fella Records was selling in the 2000s: he wasn't Freeway, Cam'Ron and the Diplomats and definitely not Jay-Z. West rapped about his near-fatal car crash in 2002, his disappointments in entering the record industry and even questioned his own lyrics on "The College Dropout" on the track "Breathe in Breathe Out." West rapped, "always said if I rapped I'd say something significant, but now I'm rapping 'bout money, hoes and rims again." 

Perhaps West's definition of significant has changed. 

"Yeezus" is a ten-song injection of music from an artist that in recognizing his status also realizes that his lyrical content doesn't have to be at the forefront any longer. He realizes that the buzz of working with artists like King Louie, Young Chop and TNGHT or standard-bearers like Rick Rubin and Daft Punk is bigger than improving juvenile lines about performing cunnilingus on an Asian girl and needing "sweet and sour sauce." This album is Kanye's complete shift from pure rapper to full-on pop artist.

The danger for criticism of him is that the Hip-Hop guise makes his work seem more groundbreaking than it is. Because he's not lumped in with the pop-rap Pitbull's and Flo Rida's of the world, because of his past work and the chances he takes, he's seen as a creative genius and a savant. 

"Yeezus" doesn't help that genius argument. West made a notable statement with the nationwide projections of "New Slaves" and with that song's message. But, it's the kind of message that doesn't make sense with the Kanye West fans now see. Thematically it is more reminiscent of West's first two albums. 

And perhaps Kanye no longer has to be that rapper, but if the result of his social commentary is that it feels forced or disjointed in the midst of an album that is essentially sexual explicitness and braggadocio, then Kanye should drop the pretense. 

In declaring himself a god (with a song featuring God, and who knows what that feature cost Def Jam) he assumes an air of superiority. As thousands sang along with him saying, "there's leaders and there's followers, but I'd rather be a dick than a swallower," you couldn't help but understand why he feels the way he does.

He is through his persona, pathos and music a figure larger than anything his humanity indicates. But, as he detaches from us peons, fans have to recognize that this is not truly a deity in our midst, just a creative artist in crisis. He's taking some risks, but once you get past the noise and analyze the content, he's just a guy who wants his drinks and his bread. And there's nothing more human than that.

[theladwrites]

Teeter

I can tell my relationship with my career is going to ebb and flow a great deal. I graduated from journalism school a few days ago and have experienced a bevy of mixed emotions. 

Today alone I've been both frustrated with missed opportunities and mistakes, content with the effort I showcased and proud of some of my work and the improvements I made and then excited about the possibility to improve and report on new things in a new city. 

None of us ever stop learning or improving, and there's always going to be someone better than us, no matter what we achieve. Learning and accepting that continues to be a difficult step, but I'm getting so much closer to learning from the masters instead of just watching the throne.

[theladwrites]

Time

"I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days, before you've left them." -Andy Bernard, The Office

Probably one of the most relevant lines a TV character has ever spoken. They resonate with me so much, because I'm now a graduate of the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. A rigorous, sleep-depriving maelstrom of an experience that has made me a better reporter, writer, friend and hopefully person. The third and fourth titles are what's most important to me for this post though. 

I came to this school expecting to make some friends, to be approachable and to learn from others' experiences. I didn't realize that those friends would become like family members. I didn't think that 10 months or even a month would fly by so quickly. I just didn't anticipate feeling such an enormous void in my heart for the breaking of the routines I had with these folks. I saw many of these people on a daily or at least weekly basis. We laughed, worked, cried, danced, drank and so many more things together. We experienced a variety of highs and lows, challenged and critiqued each other and demanded the best of each other through our work and through our advice. 

As journalists we have to be adept at listening and asking questions. So in that way, these people are set up to be some of the greatest friends. They'll know what to say and are always extremely willing to listen. I count that as fortune and a blessing.

So in summation, I really hate time. Not Time, Inc. but the passage of days, weeks and months that seemed to come and go as quickly as a raging thunderstorm. I wish I could master it, wish I could tame it, I wish those moments that I wanted to last forever could in fact do so. I wish fatigue didn't make us underestimate and under-appreciate those times together because, "there's always next weekend."  

But, we'll all get through our separations. We'll meet other people, make new friends and I'm certain I'll cross paths with a great deal of these individuals again, either through sheer serendipity or through rigorous planning and effort. I cherish the friends I had before this experience, of course, and I'm sure new ones will be great as well. But nothing will be like the time me and the CJS Class of 2013 had together, pursuing this career that we love so much.

[theladwrites]

Oh boy. Mental cleanse.

I wonder if I'm even markedly better at my craft than I was when I arrived here. I feel like I am in multiple respects, but so much of me still feels like the 21-year-old that showed up in New York in late July. I'm 22 now, so somehow I guess that means I'm wiser, but I don't know. I guess the early 20's are supposed to be when you prep to do better, think better and more effectively and question almost everything. You take calculated risks and do so because the opportunities to take them are going to dwindle soon. 

I just consider the work of my colleagues, both friend and acquaintance and wonder why I don't feel right. Perhaps I don't work as hard. Perhaps after weeks and months of pursuing and telling stories, with varying degrees of success and failure, I just feel like my efforts will be futile. Maybe I don't use my time effectively enough. Are my classmates wiser? Smarter? More deft or skilled in their use of language or the way they pursue things? Am I unlucky? Immature? Naive? The fact that I still have so many of these rhetorical questions for myself, troubles the living shit out of me. 

It extends to my interactions with people as well. I'm a nice, cordial guy. How much can I change that inherent nature? If I change it too dramatically how will it effect others, how will I even feel essentially playing a role? Am I not honest enough? Am I incapable of truly understanding and relating to people and being someone who they want to spend time with? 

And I have no real desire to place blame on my generation, on generations before me, on systems, on any of those things. Because even if there's a modicum of blame to be placed on those things, ultimately I have to improve myself. Perhaps I want too much gratification too soon. Maybe, and probably, I'm too lazy and too comfortable. And unable to plan and envision things fully enough beyond the limited and immediate scope I see things in. I'm complacent, I'm coddled, I'm all of these things that 22 years have made me. But, what the fuck do I really do?

I'll consult others, I'll really try, I'll see what works for other people. I guess that will get it done. Or maybe I'll just be mediocre or decent. We can't all be exceptional. I don't want to waste any of the DNA or unique ability God has given me, by conspiring to birth me into the situations I was birthed into.

By American standards I've lived a little over 4 years of adult life. So maybe as an adult I'm still a toddler. That's a reality check, and a difficult thing to process. 

[theladwrites]

"My Heroes Had the Heart..."

I write this as Gnarls Barkley's mega-hit and classic single "Crazy" plays in the background. As I've just read a couple of recaps and reactions to the second-season premiere of Lena Dunham's "Girls." As, I've just read through a an NPR article about young people drinking more coffee as opposed to carbonated sodas. I'm 22 years old, and man, life is something else.

My generation knows a lot more than the one before it, but at the same time we know so much less of struggle. We are the benefactors of sacrifices before us, and I'm not certain if that should elicit a victory lap, or greater contemplation and sacrifice on our parts. We eat better, we work out more, but at the same time we take so many things for granted. We wonder how people get out of shape, but we don't think about how much free time and control over our situations we have.

I live in an apartment that teems between Harlem and all that encompasses, but is blocks away from Central Park and ever so close to the mainly affluent Upper West Side. I have a view of the Empire State Building and the Freedom Tower. I recognize how well I have it, but at the same time that position and its benefits haunt me. I'm a graduate student at an Ivy league institution, benefiting off of my ability to put words on varying screens and off of an education mainly funded by my prior successes and by my government. 

I've accomplished a good amount, but am I worthy of it? Do I deserve to criticize nearly anyone? I don't have a job, I don't spend my days toiling away at a "9 to 5." Do I deserve to be angry at a show like "Girls" given the benefits its creator has had (famous parent, Judd Apatow backing, premium cable creative license)? When I haven't really done the work she has, and I just may not have the luck she's had. 

All these thoughts bring me to another recent event. Last night's Golden Globes--mainly Jodie Foster's acceptance speech. I saw so many people saying "Get off stage" "I wish she'd shut up," etc. I understand that as a viewer you have a right to a certain viewing experience and to being entertained, but I think Jodie Foster has earned her right to speak way more than most of her internet detractors have earned the right to begrudge her. 

If this all over the place weblog has a point, it's that I think my generation has to be slower to be critical. I believe this on a moral, practical and human level. We have our different accolades(college degrees, similar life or work experience), we have our internet soapbox, but a lot of us don't have much to stand on to be so verbose. This goes beyond criticizing an actress in the twilight of her career, it's more of a general point. Really sit and think about how easy you have it, how many chances you've squandered, how much time we sit and think and agonize in sadness over things that don't matter. 

We have so many privileges, but we aren't world-changers just yet. I suppose we have time to get it right, but as we evolve we should check ourselves.

[atribecalledme]

There’s no specified order going on here. Releases includes LPs, EPs and mixtapes. I hope you enjoy, and even if things look familiar I hope you appreciate my opinion. For the stuff that looks less familiar, go listen before 2013’s new stuff attacks your ears.

Kendrick Lamar- Good Kid, m.A.A.d....

[theladwrites]

Dos Mil Doce

This was probably the toughest and most rewarding year I've ever experienced. So many people say that, and I sympathize with all of them that are genuine. I started my year by beginning the end of my senior year of college at Morehouse College in Atlanta. I traveled to the "West coast" for the first time ever, by traveling with a great group of friends to Las Vegas. The trip wasn't perfect, but it was a great bonding experience and somehow helped me learn some life lessons. I was accepted to three graduate schools of journalism after somewhat arduous application processes. The Medill School at Northwestern, City University of New York's program and the program I am currently a student at, Columbia University. The tears from my mother and the excited screams, messages and social networking lauding were great and helped me feel very accomplished. However, fear was ever present as time went on. I felt good about my decision to jump right into grad school, but I struggled (and continue to struggle) with knowing if it was entirely the right move for me. Time went on and I gained a great female friend, not a girlfriend, but someone who's company I was able to enjoy and a sort of new thing for me as I mainly had guys that I called close friends in that regard. 

In May, I graduated from college and felt and still feel an overwhelming sense of pride. I am the first person in my immediate family, the first of my cousins on my father's side (and one of a few on my mother's) and one of the only guys on my father's side, in general, to obtain a Bachelor's degree. The night of my graduation I cried the hardest I had in months, because of joy and because of fear. 4 years travel fast and I invested a lot and received so much from that time, my education and my experiences there. My summer was not as eventful or productive as I would have hoped in some respects, but in other ways it definitely was. I returned to Miami and worked at my church's summer camp. A pretty menial thing to do before graduate school, but the slight professional and personal limbo of a job like that helped me grow and learn to prepare somewhat better. I traveled to New Orleans for the first time in June and participated in the National Association of Black Journalists convention as a student reporter. I met some people who are doing great work and have done so much already even at younger ages than me. It challenged and intimidated me, but helped me gain some connections and want to do so much better.

I started grad school in August and reacquainted myself with New York City. I quickly learned some lessons in tough ways, but as the slight theme of this has been I learned from those mistakes in slight ways as well. Graduate school has spit in my face, kicked me when I was down, and also been one of the greatest things to happen to me. In September I turned 22, which still feels ridiculous to say. In so many ways I feel far from being an "independent grown adult" because of the support systems I have and for many other reasons. I've been considered mature for most of my life since I was a teenager pretty much, but I've struggled with understanding when that "adult" switch really kicks in. I think it's because I've seen people older than me be so selfish, immature and stupid in certain respects that it makes me wonder what the real marker is. Perhaps it's intentionally becoming a parent. 

That digression aside, I finished my first semester of grad school and also had to deal with the toughest personal loss of life I've ever dealt with--the death of my grandfather. He had been sick off and on for over a year. For a while early in 2012 he was doing very well and his health was improving, but things took a downward swing when his heart began to fail after already suffering from dementia and shingles. He was 89 years old and probably the greatest and most selfless human being I will have ever met. I miss him very dearly and still am not sure if I can properly qualify in my mind that he's dead, but in my selfish way I'm glad he was able to see me graduate from undergrad.

Beyond great conversations, awesome parties, the infinite random moments of fun, pain and laughter I can say that 2012 was "successful." I felt some of the highest highs that a young adult can feel and dealt with (and continue to deal with) some of the darkest and loneliest feelings and contemplations as well. I've witnessed this country reelect Barack Obama and continue to show just how terrible, ugly, beautiful and inspirational it can be in the fell swoop of 12 months.

I've questioned my religion and lamented my inability to follow doctrine in the way I desire. I've dealt with the lack of a serious relationship, my flaws, my weaknesses, my beneficial and detrimental traits. Seen my family struggle financially, my father's family go through divorces and preparing to usher in new life. Witnessed human beings push boundaries and been inspired to tell and read stories about people who navigate the shallow and deep waters of this insane experience called existence.

Born in 1990, and have made it through another year. Thanks be to God, and my hopes are that when I write a retrospective in 365 days, it's meaningful and shows more growth than stagnation or regression.

[theladwrites]

The D is silent and so is my outrage.

I am indeed an African-American male. I am 22 years old and I am a fan of Quentin Tarantino's films. With those qualifiers out of the way I want to say that "Django Unchained" is the victim of a kind of venom from many in the Black community and otherwise, a great deal of which having not seen the film. 

I watched and struggled through the movie's more graphic scenes, but anyone who's seen "Reservoir Dogs," "Kill Bill 1 or 2," or the most recent "Inglorious Basterds," is a person that's a bit desensitized. Was my reaction heightened by the fact that the film was depicting these violent actions against actors portraying slaves? It was to an extent, I don't think Tarantino or anyone praising the film believes that slavery was a jolly, old time. But, we also recognize that it takes some courage to even do what QT did on a small extent. Many of the most violent acts against slaves in the movie are brief, are flashbacks, or the audience is spared viewing through the camera's eye or by action in the film. 

QT challenges his audience with realities of history, but also coddles them a bit so as not to distract from what his film's aim is. This movie is part love story, part revenge Blaxploitation Western, part damsel-in-distress rescue mission. But, more than anything it's...A FILM. 

This movie is not, nor was it advertised as being, based solely on true events or a historical individual's narrative. The truest events are the darker parts of the film that trouble your psyche, but the movie is a movie all the same. It has a happy ending, it has unrealistic turns of events (and a slightly unbelievable denouement), it even has an anachronistic (albeit awesome) soundtrack. Django does become a bit more articulate than you'd expect a Southern slave to become after only a few months, but how many Dr. Schultz's are there in real American history? 

It might be difficult to separate this film from its setting and historical landscape, because race remains a thorny issue in our country, but I'd suggest judging it for its cinematic merit. And I suggest that mainly for my fellow Black moviegoers. I mean, is lampooning of the slave situation only acceptable when Aaron McGruder or Dave Chappelle do it in jest? 

Certainly slavery and slaves's unconscionable suffering were not a "Spaghetti Western" as one Spike Lee suggested in stating his disapproval of the film, but I don't think that's Quentin Tarantino's aim. QT decided to take a very painful sore in our country's less than three-hundred year existence and see what was so tragic and provide a dramatic "what-if" scenario. Is that kind of film necessary? I can't fully make that statement, but then again I don't think more than one Transformers film was needed with Michael Bay still involved. 

What I do know is that just because it's in vogue to be sensitive about certain issues doesn't merit over-sensitivity. "Django Unchained" is a very solid film and features excellent performances, cinematography and, while the plot isn't Tarantino's best effort, thematically the movie is about a Black married couple in love and a husband's efforts to rescue his wife and spare her from pain.

I thought that was something to be encouraged. 

[theladwrites]

Briefintrotoletuknow

I've been doing this tumblr thing for going on three years now, and my interest has waned because of a lot of different factors. They include: fatigue with internet characters, other social networks and life just taking a lot of my attention away from gifs, reblogs, pictures of famous and/or naked people, and people's general self-loathing or cynicism with others' lives without much to show for in their own situations.

I'm not perfect, but that's part of what I've seen and been frustrated by.

So, here's a blog where a lot of writing will go on. There may be other forms of expression too, but mainly the written word and musical posts. I doubt this blog will resemble my former too much, even if I started to trend to this kind of blog as time went on. 

At any rate I am LAD (Lance A. Dixon) and this is me writing and so on.