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October 05, 2006

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LUCKY FOR U.S.?

Maybe the rest of the world should boycott American Music until we deliver a better product

I would hope, that in the months to come, when the seemingly endless bounty of self congratulatory music and entertainment award shows are unfurled before the American public, that special tribute be paid to the memory and the legacy of Lucky Dube. The first of the pageantry of awards shows , The American Music Awards, has passed by and there was not (at least not televised) any special honorarium presented on his behalf. I guess this should come as no surprise given what must have been the flash in the pan news coverage of his tragic death in the American press and media. I myself must have been blinking an eye when it was covered because it was not until weeks later, while reading an article in a free monthly newspaper that caters to the African community living here in America, that I discovered the report. Granted, Mr. Dube was more of an international star than an American icon and his style of music, reggae, is not filling the coffers at TicketMasters yet for his contributions to the music world and his musical messages to be ignored or simple forgotten would be a shame and just another indicator of just how virulent, vain and petty focused the music industry here in America has become.

The very fact that many of you reading this probably have never even heard of a Luck Dube is but a manifestation of how the main stream, music industry, particularly in the past few decades, have all but promoted music designed to narrow your focus to a limited arena of performers. Sadly, most of these featured performers don’t have much to say or sing about and, an alarming amount of showcased performers present and glorify the type of messages and culture that by and large, fuels the climate and thug culture that whisked away Mr. Dube’s life.

African Reggae Star Lucky Dube Killed in Attempted Car-Jacking
By Scott Bobb
Johannesburg
19 October 2007
Bobb report (mp3) - Download 488k
Listen to Bobb report (mp3)
South African Reggae star Lucky Dube has been killed in an apparent car-jacking attempt. The 43-year-old musician was shot Thursday night in a suburb south of Johannesburg. Correspondent Scott Bobb reports from our bureau there.

Lucky Dube
South African police say the renowned Reggae musician was shot by three gunmen as he dropped off his son in the Rosettenville suburb of Johannesburg.
Police spokesperson Lorraine Van Emmerick told national radio that Lucky Dube's daughter also witnessed the shooting.
"He was hijacked. He was able to flee from the scene," said Van Emmerick. "His children were out of the vehicle at the time Mr. Dube was shot. He was declared dead at the scene by the paramedics."
Lucky Dube achieved world fame through music with a social message such as this 2003 song about the ravages of AIDS, called "Number in the Book."
He received some 20 awards during his 25-year career and was the first South African musician to be signed by the Motown recording label in the United States.
Born in 1964 to an impoverished family in northeastern Mpumalanga Province, Lucky Dube released his first album at the age of 18 years. He began his career performing the urbanized Zulu music called Mbaqanga. But he also recorded albums in Afrikaans, the language of the white minority.
Dube made his mark on the international scene with Reggae music and became one of the best-known African vocalists of the genre.
His first Reggae album, Rastas Never Die, was banned by the apartheid government in the mid-1980s.
The spokesman for Dube's Gallo music label, Arnold Mabunda says Dube was one of the country's most successful musicians.
"He was one of the biggest contributors in the South African music industry. Yeah. And now we are saddened," said Mabunda.
South Africa has one of the highest murder rates in the world, with nearly 20,000 homicides last year.


Although Mr.Dube life was taken on streets of Johannesburg, South Africa, make no doubt about it, the gang and thug culture that we produce here in the good old USA and export to the rest of world in the guise of entertainment,
is ripe, sweet and tasty to the eye, in the ghetto in Soweto, the shanty towns in Rio or on the sewage strewn streets of Belize. Did we really need to throw our tainted combustible trash on their already smoldering heaps?

Since we have exported a culture of self loathing, hate and thuggery to the world under the guise of music, maybe it’s time for the pendulum swing, perhaps we should have come to our senses and can now import a culture of love, respect and togetherness through struggle. See you at the next Award Show.

[email protected]
11/25/07


Should you wish to send a message of condolence to Lucky’s family, please email:
[email protected] or fax on +27 (0) 11 340 9471

For more information on Lucky see:

http://www.luckydubemusic.com/

War and Crime Lyrics
Artist(Band):Lucky Dube


Every where in the world
People are fighting for freedom
Nobody knows what is right
Nobody knows what is wrong
The black man say it' s the white man
The white man say it' s the black man
Indians say it' s the coloureds
Coloureds say it' s everyone
Your mother didn' t tell you the truth
Cause my father didn' t tell me the truth
Nobody knows what is wrong
And what is right
How long is this gonna last
Cause we' ve come so far so fast


When it started, you and I were not there so
Why don' t we
Bury down apartheid
Fight down war and crime
Racial discrimination
Tribal discrimination


You and I were not there when it started
We don' t know where it' s coming from
And where it' s going
So why don' t we


I' m not saying this
Because I' m a coward
But I' m thinking of the lives
That we lose everytime we fight
Killing innocent people
Women and children yeah
Who doesn' t know about the government
Who doesn' t know about the wars going on
Your mother didn' t tell you the truth
Cause my father did not tell me the truth
Yeah


Black man say it' s the white man
White man say it' s the black man
Indians say it' s the coloureds
Coloureds say it' s everyone


When it started we were not there
We know where we come from
But we don' t know where we' re going
So why don' t we


Bury down apartheid
Fight down war and crime
Racial discrimination
Tribal discrimination

The following excerpt is from my Spiritual Mentor R.Kovar in his appraisal of my often ill-fated and oft ignored attempts to wake up American, in particularly the African-American community on our descent in barbarity and social collapse. (See attachments). I found what he said to be prophetic on the same scale as what I write to be ominous. Which would you rather have? The choice is yours depending on the action, if any, which you decide to, take.
Phillip G.

The world has been in a slow descent since the sixties but now it is at break-neck speed.

America is in free fall! And few seem to know it.

The world as a whole - America, Europe, Japan, China Russia and the Middle East have fallen into the gravitational vibrations of demonic energy. This came about thru drugs, abortion (murder as a solution and suicide bombers), crime, greed, satanic worship, a media obsessed with murder and a total disrespect for our reproductive system. We are now a rectal and anal world. And the stench of our loss of virtues and respect for Self is overwhelming! A demonic vibration now encircles the planet and the whole world is in free fall. This is why confusion has increased on all levels. Seen in this light, it is only natural that black, smart or illiterate rappers would succumb to the filth of negative vibes all around them. If intelligent white, black, brown and yellow souls are trapped in mental confusion, then what is left for the poverty-ridden minorities of our society? If they can make some money as Satan's buddies, then why not? After all, Greed is our daily sacrifice on our Aztec altar...and the killing and blood that accompanies it is par for the course. Pyramid schemes. It is sad that black people have bought the white man's demonic sickness, it is tremendously sad that they do not have the common sense to understand the white man's need for corporate greed. Do you think that the white man and some of his black lackeys do not know that they have turned the mouths of rappers into Satan's blow horns? Of course they do, but they comfort themselves by saying that they are giving the people what they want, and they are probably right because the nation is lost - the people have fallen into a rectal pit of demonic energy. So once again that trite statement is ominously true - money is indeed the root of all evil. We are no longer living in harmony with God's Laws of Physics. It takes an electron (male) and a proton (female) to make an atom. What happens when you mate 2 electrons? There is no light! And most people and politicians support this cerebral darkness. So, as I said, America is in free fall! There is no stopping it until it implodes.

In Joy
Brother Kovar

Brother Kovar can be reached at RudolfMukunda@ aol.com


The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Rings, GALADRIEL’s opening monologue

I amar prestar aen
(The world is changed).
Han mathon ne nen
(I feel it in the water)
Han mathon ne chae
(I feel it in the Earth.)
A han noston ned gwilith
(I smell it in the air.)

Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it.


Blood stained twenties

I got crack. I got smack. I gotta pocket full of twenties.
I got dis corner and, my boyz, they got my back.

So let’s be realistic, don’t need me no mystic.
Got my glock for ballistics.
Don’t plan on becoming nobody’s statistic.

So don’t try to stop it. Yo! My pockets phat and,
your 9 to 5 can’t top it. Don’t need a bible either
cause a stack of twenties, my profit.

Excuse me. Yo! yo, wait a minute Cuz Don’t come up in here with your store.
You play your side of town, for real, cause dis here corner’s spoken for.
What’s you looking at; Maybe you crusin for a beat down, or you think you’re bad e-nuff to score?

Oh! now you gonna play me like you’re so fine.
Gonna pimp walk right up to me and then flash me your nine.

cap cap cap

Oh! baby boy you’re quick, you done really gone and hit it
Caught me three times, your bullets went straight and, bit it.

Can’t stand now, going down, damn there goes my reputation, I didn’t even get off a round.

pop pop pop

What an awful sound then a loud ’ thud’ as my head hits the ground.

I feel the hot blood flow from my gut and down into my pockets;
messing up my stack of twenties. Please won’t somebody stop it.

I see blue lights flashing and in the distance I hear an ambulance howl.
Now my twenties are really getting messed, I can’t even hold my bowels.

Now here comes this cop. He takes my glock. Ask es me to snitch.
Yeah! I know who done it but, that’s my bizness, bitch

Yours is to make sure I get these twenties back on me.
Once they stitch me up and release me from Emergency.

In my right pocket, I knows I got damn near four hundred
And in my left…my left,…damn! my stomach
Can’t think right now, head’s getting lite and I thinks I gonna vomit.

Please Lord help me, I can change, get a job, I’m not that lazy.
And please Lord tell me, why is everything starting to get so hazy?
Can’t this ambulance move any faster, Jesus! I don’t want to be pushing up daisies.

Things are darker now, I can only hear voices.
while all about me, a lot of busyness, I start to think about my losses.
Hell! I was supposed to have cleared six hundred tonight.
So’s I could get right with all my sources.

What you say, hang some blood, whose blood is that, I don’t want no HIV.
I thought they only needed to take out the bullets, give me prescription, like they do on TV.

Damn! I m not really sure if all these doctors are really wid it.
EVERYTHING seems to be fading away. I’m getting cold, colder.
I think I getting ready, getting ready, getting ready to quit it.

And quit he did, so continues the toll. Another deceased young black male. Paid in Full, all his Thug and Dope life fees.
Nothing on his person but, 8 bags of smack, 5 rocks and a stack of blood stained twenties.

His End.

Phillip Ghee 8/19/07

About This Poem

I like to think of this poem as an anti-rap, trying, with a single effort, to reverse the damage that decades of negative urban programming in gangster rap and gangsta culture has reaped. It sounds ambition but, I think it can be done, good far outweighs evil even if it just The Power of One.

The poem was inspired by the articles on Ms. Millie Brown and Doctor Edward Cornwell III, both of Johns Hopkins Hospital. Day in and Day out, they witness firsthand and attend to the care and witness the demise of scores of young black men, caught up in (the mostly drug traffic induced) epidemic of gun and knife violence sweeping the city. The (genocidal) Toll 223 murders in Baltimore in the period of time from January 1st, 2007 to September 17th, 2007. The overwhelming numbers of victims and perpetrators have been black young men.

See: articles below

For individuals who may have come across a hard-copy of this article and wish it sent to you via e-mail, write to [email protected]


For out of state recipients (their press and media) whose cities suffer from the same fate as Baltimore’s; please you are more than welcome to amend this article with your statistics and add a presentation on your hero’s speaking out. However as a courtesy to the originator of the article, I am requesting that you maintain the stats on Baltimore and possibly update it to reflect the toll of the day. This can be done by either writing to me, via e-mail [email protected] or by an Internet search for:


By Anna Ditkoff at At Baltimore CityPaper
I prefer this listing because it also gives a brief synopsis of the crime along with a tally of murder for the week and the comprehensive toll to date.


Caution: The poem belongs to me and you have my permission and encouragement to reprint it, obeying the aforementioned guidelines but you may have to contact the various news sources to reprint the two accompanying articles.
Contact Information -- baltimoresun.com
Contact Information. baltimoresun.com 2 Hamill Road Suite 200 Baltimore, Maryland 21210 ... The Baltimore Sun Company 501 N. Calvert Street P.0. Box 1377 ...
www.baltimoresun.com/about/bal-about-sun-contact,0,2796354.htmlstory - 44k -
[email protected]

afcp_net
Contact Information:: Baltimore Times: 2513 N. Charles Street: Baltimore, MD 21218: Phone: 410-366-3900: Fax: 410-243-1627: Website: www. ...
www.afcp.org/design/general/memberdetail.asp?pubid=2041 - 13k - Cached - Similar pages

[email protected]

To the National recipients and the national press and media, you have the resources, access and the talent, I charge you with being ambitious and gathering a toll from all areas to be included with this poem .
I think the circumstances surrounding the current murder epidemic are no different in Baltimore than any other urban city. As we move out West and in the Southern Atlantic Cities, many more Hispanics youth may also be caught up in the toll but, it’s the same thing. We have to realize that our survival is contingent on theirs. We are all interconnected no matter how removed we think ourselves to be from the situation. Acknowledge your connection.

Phillip Ghee 8/22/07

She fights bloodshed one T-shirt at a time

Operating room worker Millie Brown holds up the T-shirts she is selling to raise awareness of the young victims of violence in the city. She's printing them at her own expense.

There were no relatives in the hospital when the young man died, so Millie Brown and her co-workers in the operating room reached for a wallet in his pants to find some identification. The
pants were wet, and so were the wallet and the thick stack of cash inside - blood money from the streets of Baltimore.

Another young, African-American male lay on an operating table at Johns Hopkins Hospital, dead from five, maybe six bullets to the upper body. Many young men come, bleeding or unconscious, by ambulance to one of the greatest hospitals in the world, direct from the streets of East Baltimore - sometimes from only a few blocks away, where the paramedics and homicide detectives find them.

Doctors and nurses try to save them. Sometimes they succeed. Sometimes they fail.
Millie Brown works as an operating room associate in cardiac surgery. She gets a page to the trauma room when she's needed there. It's her job to move patients to and from the OR - and sometimes to the hospital morgue. She's there when the bodies are cleaned and tagged and bagged. She's there when the next of kin arrive.

But that one night, no kin could be found, and Millie remembered the stack of $20 bills in the young victim's wallet, soaked through with blood.

"It must have been this thick," she said, referring to the cash-stuffed wallet and holding her thumb and index finger nearly 4 inches apart.

I had to stop and think about that for a minute - blood-soaked cash, the death of young men, our frustrating city - and in the next breath, I heard Millie Brown say, "It's all so senseless."

Friday afternoon, before Millie started her 2-to-11 shift in the Blalock Building, we sat and talked about all this - and speculated about that shooting victim having so much cash on him - because the killing of young men in Baltimore has moved her to launch a one-woman campaign to stop the violence.

Seen too much already, she says.

Hopkins has given her great opportunities to advance her career - to move in time from food services to environmental services and into the OR, where she has observed amazing efforts to save lives after high-caliber efforts to end them.

She's not a surgeon, not a nurse. But she wants to do something.

That's why she's selling a T-shirt that her teenage son designed. It says: "Save Our Children, Stop The Killing." She has them printed with her own money and some that she's raised. She sells them for $15 and wants to donate the proceeds to an effort to pull at-risk boys back from the brink.

She hasn't quite figured that part out yet. She's just getting started.

"I want to see this T-shirt in neighborhoods everywhere," Millie Brown says with the passion of a woman who has just discovered true purpose. "I want to see people wearing them as they walk down the streets."

Millie, who is divorced, lives in Dundalk with her son, William, 15. Her heart aches for the other women who come to the OR to view the bodies of their teenage boys, victims of gang battles and street beefs, of guns and of knives, of the whole insane culture of macho violence that keeps one part of Baltimore bleeding and dying as the other one thrives and grows.

Millie Brown knows five women whose sons have been shot, one of whom is still clinging to life at the University of Maryland Medical Center across town. Two women she knows, who work in
Hopkins housekeeping, have lost children to violence.

Of course, we've seen stop-the-killing efforts before. Been there, got the T-shirt.

But this one comes from a woman who has the twin perspective of mother and health care worker. Millie Brown is right there, at the hospital on the hill, in the middle of the night, under the surgical lights, when young men come in off the street, wounded and gasping for breath. She's been there when they died and when their mothers arrived to embrace the still-warm bodies. She's hugged the moms as they wept.

"Talking about all this, seeing it on the news, in the newspaper, that's one thing," Millie says. "But when you stand right there and you see it, and you actually touch it or have to move a body from one room to the morgue ... when you have to take a mom to see her baby who's been shot with a gun or stabbed with a knife, and he's gone ... when you see a grieving mother crying for her child ... then I want to do something about that.

"I really want to try and make a difference," Millie says. "My goal is to save one mom from coming in here and seeing her son dead from a gunshot."

So she's selling the T-shirts. She wants to get the mothers of victims involved in the effort to stop the killing; she'd like to produce a video of their stories or get them to speak to young men about making better choices in life.

She said it was OK to publish her number in the newspaper today (410-961-1003) in case anyone else in Baltimore wants to join her in saving the boys and saving the city.
[email protected]
LO


Baltimore TimesL NEWS

Dr. Cornwell heals gun shot wounds and guns down bad images
by Ken Morgan
Baltimore Times
Originally posted 8/13/2007

Dr. Edward E. Cornwell III serves as associate professor of surgery at the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. He holds the position as chief of the Adult Trauma Center at the Johns Hopkins Hospital. These are lofty titles with prestige and income to go with them. Yet, he is an angry black man. In the ER, he sees so many young black men coming through. He says, “Some we can save others come dead on arrival. For every 12 gunshot wounds, one is dead on arrival. Ten gunshots are to the head or to the chest or both.”

Cornwell has lots of experience with gunshot wounds. He cites where he has worked in trauma centers over the last 19 years. “I have been at Howard University Hospital, Los Angeles and now Baltimore.”

“Our culture glamorizes violence. Music videos depict violence as being cool and hip. Kids look at these images and want to copy what they see,” says Cromwell.

The trauma surgeon recalls his invitation to record producers in New York to talk about violence on the CDs. He considered it an insult to be shown films that the record moguls showed him.

“The garbage that I saw was phenomenal. 50 cent is more creditable than Ja Rule because he has been shot nine times,” Cornwell rails. He talks about the 17 record executives that included one black and one Asian. “They said to me, this is what the market wants. I said to them the market wanted cigarettes,” drawing a parallel with the adverse affects of both,” from his way of thinking.

The veteran surgeon first started a youth impact program in L.A. “We would bring our graphic trauma slides to first time offenders not yet perpetrators but going in the wrong direction,” he says.

Starting with this same thesis in 2004, Dr. Cornwell was a primary member of Johns Hopkins researchers who followed 97 boys and girls ages 7 to 17. These youths took part in activities at two Police Athletic League centers. The Research team conducted an initial survey to assess youths' “attitudes towards interpersonal conflict and their likelihood to act violently.” They then showed youth graphic photos of gun shot wounded patients being treated.

These photos were contrasted against rap glamorizing violent rap photos from videos. The follow-up survey captured a significant lessening in the same young people's quantified beliefs that supported violent behavior. The study suggested that these youth would be less inclined to choose violence to resolve conflicts.

Dr. Cornwell played a prominent role two years ago in giving home-town boy makes good, NBA star Carmelo Anthony a platform to recant his don't snitch message. The project, Cornwell's “Hype v. Reality”, was the then Gov. Robert Ehrlich's stop the violence initiative. Anthony held a press conference on a vacant field near his old homestead in the shadows of Johns Hopkins Hospital where he set the record straight. Cornwell was there to give his message.

The dynamic surgeon continues to hammer home that exposing at-risk youth, especially between the ages of 10 and 14 to the realities of being shot, to real photos and videos of gunshot victims can alter these youth's beliefs and hopefully behavior.

Looking at the larger picture, the passionate doctor reveals how he thinks glamorizing shooting can be staunched. Cornwell alluded to the strategy of the late Cong. Adam Clayton Powell who called for everyone to boycott businesses that discriminated against blacks. He says, “It's a financial answer. It is economic. When Imus was emboldened by the same garbage to talk about bitches and “ho's” it took him eight days to get fired. It wasn't until his sponsors pulled out.”

“My goal is to drum up the debate,” says the surgeon who throws down the gauntlet to record producers and artists who glamorize shootings.

The Hopkins surgeon feels today's context for this issue involves what still is segregated society, where white supremacy still exits, where blacks think other blacks are inferior , where Uncle Toms still sell black folk out and where absentee fathers come into play. He even raises the issue of a genocidal society. You also get the feeling that politicians who just talk rhetoric are not among his favorite people. His advise to politicians to help deal with the image and culture issue is, “I would say to a politician pick the three most egregious and shine the light on these producers.”

In passionate tones, Cornwell says, “We have allowed a culture to be defined by those who don't have the right.” His finger points to record producers who glamorize the violence and make a killing in more ways than one. You get the feeling that he also does not think too kindly of some of the artists. “The answer is to shine the spotlight on them,” he says. He insists that we need a culture change.

Often thought of as a role model himself, one of the good doctor's role models includes Sue Tibbels who is executive director of the New Song Learning Center and co-founder of New Song Urban Ministries located in Sandtown-Winchester. When asked why she thinks Cornwell feels that way about her she says, “He deals with hope, death and despair. He sees me being on the positive end, preventing children ending up in the emergency room.” Cornwell sits on the board of the New Song Learning Center.

Other heroes for Cornwell are “the kids who are beating the odds and those young people who persist in school despite being ridiculed because of it.”He thinks that peak efforts to help change this negative culture should peak between the ages of 10 and 14. He thinks that there has to be a movement of like- minded people to deal with culture change.

The enterprising doctor has created a nonprofit organization to create a public service announcement highlighting the “Hype v. Reality” video that shows Cornwell in action, and a critically wounded young black bedridden man telling some youngsters that the gang life filled with shootings is no life to lead. Anyone who deals with at-risk youth needs to obtain it.

Whether you agree or not with Dr. Cornwell's philosophy and ideas, you have to love and respect his passion connected to his action.


.

Does anybody remember a black rock band in the mid-to-late 80's that sang a song called something like "say that you love me," "show me you love me," I can't remember exactly how the chorus went, but it had a really cool chord change and I have been looking for the band name for years. It was a hit on MTV for a while around the same time Living Colour was hitting it big. Thanks and Peace!

Then if some rich motherfucker,or mafia don't want Rock artist or band to play the biggest Rock show in the city, who is to be blamed. 'Cause in Europe, for example, most of people are already brain-washed by 'system' and don't want to speak out. Is every Rock artist to turn to Jazz or Classical as a way to make aliving? Come on, those artists want to be modern people, not corrupted aristocracy.

David,

Thanks for stopping by. Thanks, too, for raising your hand as a Living Colour fan. This speaks to the larger issue: What was going on in the marketplace that basically kept Living Colour a novelty act? For now, one question for you: Did your being a "huge fan" of LC keep you open to other similar black bands?

In terms of the first question, I'm assuming that--by dint of your creative leanings-- you listened to a wide variety of music, so I wouldn't be surprised to find that you were checking for bands from across the musical spectrum. I’d be interested to know—if you can remember—what other black rock bands you were listening to at the time. More importantly, how did you learn about them?

I don't have much insight to offer to this post other then I recognized Vernon right away! I was a huge Living Colour fan in both HighSchool and college. One thing I loved about their music and concerts was how it brought people together from all different kinds of backgrounds, (yeah, especially in the mosh pit) ;)

Rob, cool to know that you did PR for the BRC.

To your post of 10/08, 00:53, Rob--
Yes, you are step for step with me (not easy given the elliptical nature of the things I tend to dash off in this medium).
There is an undeniable linkage between the early post civil rights environment (economic, social, pop cultural) and the moment of rap/hip hop's birth in the early 80's. Quite specifically, in the Bronx, where hip-hop was born and I grew up, a chasm began opening in the 1970's within the black community. There are many valid ways to view the fault lines--age, native vs. immigrant, education, income--but the main thing to me was the attitude toward what the late sixties meant about where you were going in the late 70's. Put simply, as the south bronx burned in despair, people like left for college, or for the suburbs, and took our rock and jazz collections, and our musical educations, with us.
Even when we didn't leave right away, the cleavage was very real. The critical mass of those left behind, many of them recent young Caribbean immigrants, were unburdened by the integrationist (with radical justice) visions of Sly Stone or Miles Davis. They had never heard Mingus' "Freedom Suite" and they certainly weren't in a postition to study it, as I did in college. The vices that we could afford (barely) in college and the burbs--sex, drugs, and yes, rock and roll-- damn near decimated the people left behind. In that ecology the germ (not in a bad sense but just Darwinian) of hip-hop could flourish and quickly multiply WITHOUT COMPETITION from the cultural, musical and black-social values of rock (black or otherwise) and jazz. Hip-hop was fed by the raw material--burnt out neigborhoods, rising drug related violence, defunding of the Great Society and the remnants of late 60's decadent culture (if it feels good, do it)-- heaped around it. Yes, the decline of music education and the rise of certain electronic technologies were critical. But what was more important was the vacuum of competing value systems as integration of the black community also resulted in it's disintegration during tranistional period--the late 70's through the 80's-- in which hip-hop was born.

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