this clipping is from a cleveland newspaper and reposted courtesy trula mama. it’s a few years old and contains some inspiring comments from Gordon Parks, widely accomplished photojournalist, writer, and filmmaker.

all we can think, when elders pass over with the frequency that we’ve seen of late, is of that quote from frantz fanon: “each generation must, out of relative obscurity, define its mission, fulfill it, or betray it.”

Now I’m sure that many in our circle of progressive relatively earthy children of the children of the civil rights era went out to see Dave’s return to the screen. This part documentary, part concert, part series of comedic narrations is a vivid glimpse into Dave’s private life and his working collaboration with the Okayplayer set (The Roots, Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, Cody Chestnut, Martin Luther, etc.) Having all run in the same underground circles since the beginnings of their careers, this impromptu block party was in some ways a celebration of this crew and it’s ever-increasing audience in the face of mainstream hip hop’s identity crisis. The very fact that Dave could spread the word about a concert on a Bed-Stuy block in a matter of days and get the turnout, buzz and starpower it took to make it real is a testament to the kind of power he wielded nearly two years ago, long before his controversial bouncing.

But if you’re going to this film to laugh your ass off, you might be a little disappointed. While there’s plenty of comedy to go around, Chappelle’s team-up with director Michel Gondry is more about the comedian bridging the two worlds in which he lives, bringing the folks from the Ohio town where he resides (including the entire Central State University Marching Band) to collide with the African American enclave in Brooklyn where so many artists like himself were either born or have lived during the past decade. The end result is a documentary that is unique, often engaging (though I might’ve trimmed it down by 15 minutes of so) and meditative when it comes to the state of black music. Plus you get to see the Fugees performing for their first time together in almost a decade. (more…)

One of the saddest things in the news now (and believe me it’s hard to pick with all the chaos going on in this Babylon) would have to be the ripple affect of the Danish ignorance in publishing offense Islamic cartoons. Now, I like Spongebob as much as the next kid but this is getting to be too much.

Recently, while listening to NPR, I heard some UC Irvine New Republican Group members defending their decision to republish the offensive Islamic cartoons by saying “we need to talk about the issue and have discourse about it.” Hold up, homey. What is with this desire in America for us to have “discourse” over everything? One time, when I was home alone as a latch key kid, I was curious and put my tongue in the freezer to see what would happen. You probably know the rest of the story—that shit hurt and I was so happy I was alone so that I could spend the rest of my embarrassed day watching “Green Acres” nursing a sore tongue without some “you dummy” comments from anyone other than myself. Yes, I was the fool in “A Christmas Story” who accepts the double dog dare and puts my tongue on a freezing surface. Had I read a book about the affects of tongues on freezing cold surfaces, I wouldn’t have done it. Somewhere, there existed evidence that I didn’t need to accept my own double dog dare and be in pain for a few days. Do the Danish have Google? Is there a Masjid there? How about a Quran? (more…)