HIP HOP / 2007

HIP HOP

 

NativeVue] Buffalohair, HIP HOP

There are many subcultures within the music world and Hip Hop is one that truly has come of age. Hip Hop has always been associated with inner urban life. It has become a musical snapshot of existence within the concrete jungle of major metropolitan centers across the country. Hard bitten and vulgar to some it paints a picture of the stark realities in an uncensored and raw style that gets the listeners attention. From the Ghetto, Barrio, the Rez, and the youth in general Hip Hop has become the voice of an angry generation.

After listening to many up and coming artists within the Hip Hop world I must admit Hip Hop has a very real message. There are many critics of Hip Hop about its content, language and its influence on our youth. Well if you want my two bits on this whole kit and caboodle. Hip Hop is only a reflection of what our youth already see, feel and experience. All the concerns at this juncture is liken to closing the barn door after the horses got out, holay…HIP HOP

Hip Hop is more a window a glimpse of reality that is much more intense then once thought. It’s more a diverse selection of ballads raw, stark and vulgar of life on the streets, perspectives, and questions no one bothers to answer. There are many urban Natives from LA to New York and all points in-between with many such tales. They tell stories universal to the younger generation caught in a world of tumult. In many respects, Hip Hop as a whole has bridged the gap culturally as cultures from around the world embraced this genre, Hip Hop Italiano? Yeppers eh.

Frankly our youth are way more observant to the world around them then we want to give them credit for. As our youth looked on we as a generation of adults have dropped the ball. Sadly we’ve dropped the ball in plain view of a dismayed audience. So called civilization has left this world in totally chaos as poverty, wars, racial hatred and greed have taken over the landscape. The division between the ‘haves and have-nots’ has grown completely out of proportion. The new color of choice has become green as family values were determined by tax bracket. And we wonder why our younger generation is angry, confused and dismayed? “Do as I say and not what I do” is society’s message to our youth plain and simply. Life has become a contradiction of sorts. Our generation has become the generation of the big lie. We’ve become the “blinders generation”, as I put it, while justifying wrong for a “greater good” in a superficial façade of morality and honor, paleeeeeeeeze!

Toss in inner urban concerns, like gangs, drugs, profiling, and ambivalence. Poverty and ethnic divisions are ever present as well as little opportunity. Forced to live and forced to die for ideals they do not understand or agree with. The youth of today don’t desire to live this life of contradiction. Complacency is just not in their vocabulary. And us old buzzards in general have grossly underestimated them.

Whether you like it or not Hip Hop is here to stay. If you had any sense at all you’d pay attention to what they are saying. Get off your hobby horse and don’t cast judgment on the language they use, but listen to the stories they are telling you. It’s a snapshot of reality and sometimes it’s much worse than you can imagine. Raw and vulgar? reality is raw and vulgar.

Kids are not born with a desire to be drug dealers, pimps gangsters and goons, they are placed in the situation. When drowning in the sea of despair you’ll grab the rope no matter where it came from. Great full you’re forever loyal to those who saved your life. Seems the good guys left you hanging eh. Disillusioned, mad and lost, it’s not hard to see why gangs have provided a small piece of sanctuary for our youth.

Think the one that gets me is how we as adults justify all these restrictive rules and regulations directed and our youth when we did everything we are restricting? Seems those peace love hippies who blazed on Acid and twisted a few Dobbies back in the 60’s are passing laws tossing kids in prison for years, just for a joint. I love the boneheads who outlawed “Cruise Night’s” across the country. Kids can’t gather at the park in the evening. Gads, what better place could there be? Better than in a sleazy apartment huffing gas or gold paint out of boredom. Better yet, puffing rock and watching their lives go up in smoke. Our youth is up against the wall and society put them there.

Hip Hop is an expression as well as a genre in that it describes both the good and the bad from a unique perspective. The song or ballad is performed from a vantage rarely seen or even known to exist. The underworld of street life is forever shrouded in mystery its secrets impossible to glean. Hip Hop offers a moment in time in the life of those who can already relate to the plight or circumstance sung by the performer.

As this genre evolves social issues are coming into focus. Lyricists are evolving as Hip Hop diversifies into yet other aspects of the human condition. Hip Hop has become a mechanism to send a message as well as tell stories of the realities effecting our youth. More groups are becoming civil minded in their content regardless of the language. It’s the content we should pay attention to. It’s a look into the magnifying glass. Hip Hop is the voice of a once silenced population. Hip Hop has finally come of age and now their messages are going to be heard.

Rock On……

Buffalohair

 

  1. Wow – an amazing eye opener! I’m so caught up trying to make a living for my kids who are into hip-hop while I’m at the same time trying to instill the traditional and cultural belief of our people. They are hesitating at the crossroads deciding which is easier and understandable to them (hip-hop) or one that teaches them the complexity of beliefs and a language they don’t understand. Somehow we come to a shaky bridge to understand the past and live in the present. Thank you for giving me something to think about to understand my kids a lot more.Comment by Monet-valley — September 26, 2007 @ 11:53 am

A Personal Accounting of the Dallas/Fort Worth Tornado of April 3rd 2012

A Personal Accounting of the Dallas/Fort Worth

Tornado of April 3rd 2012

 

Residing in the Dallas/Fort Worth area has many rewards. From culinary to cultural this region of Texas is chock full of fun and exciting places to see, a night life to die for and a rich blend of arts and entertainment. But nothing could have prepared me for the extravaganza that transpired on Tuesday afternoon, April 3rd 2012. Like they say; “Everything is big inTexas, including tornados”

 

I had just finished producing the Smooth Show and was in the process of producing the Mingalaba Show, a broadcast for the Burmese communities. Had my trusty Irish made Sennheiser headphones on and was in the middle of doing a monologue for the show when I heard an irritating ticking sound. I checked my gages and found no anomalies in the system as I was recording. Irritated, I pulled off my headphones only to discover someone was pounding on the front door. At first I thought it was a raid of some kind, a flashback from a less than savory youthful past. So I’m no cherry, get over it. At least I’m not a due faccia (two face) politician responsible for the death of millions of innocent people for the sake of corporate and investor interests.

 

Since I had nothing to hide I made my way to the entrance. As I approached the door I could hear an older Mexican America woman shouting, “El Apuro del señor, por favor! Tornado! Tornado! Apure, por favor!” In laymen’s terms, “Get your ass out of there bonehead, there is a tornado about to blow your dumb ass to Arkansas”. I opened the door to find a little old Mexican grandmother with three babies in her arms as she frantically made swirling motions with her hand while clutching her grand children. Umm, I got her drift and went back into the studio just for a second and poof, she was out of there. How considerate of her to risk her life for some stranger she does not even know. She was truly a hero in my eyes since she did not have to stick around like she did in the heat of disaster.   

 

The story gets a little stupid because I was wearing only a longyi, a traditional clothing item men wear in Burma and other Asian countries. OK, OK, OK, so it resembles a long skirt by narrow American standards but it’s a custom I enjoy when visiting my Burmese friends who wear longyies. The ‘boys’ enjoy the freedom as well and what the hell, I was in the studio recording a Burmese show. For all the writing I do about ‘preparedness’ I was caught in a dilemma. Since the longyi is tied in the front, I had no boxers on and was barefooted I really needed to done more cloths for a host of reasons. One being I did not want to be caught buck naked dead or alive in the heart of CowtownTexas if my longyi accidentally fell off. I did not care to explain what a longyi is to astonished cattlemen either. “Umm guys, this is not a dress and quite peeking under my skirt, err longyi” Being barefooted with the possibility of lacerating my feet on broken glass was another very real concern.

 

Eventually Mr. FEMA Trained former emergency manager, moi, finally made my way out of the studio after a heartfelt farewell to my video and sound equipment. I did have my ‘grip’ or bug-out bag in tow as I made my way to safety. There was no hail in my neck of the woods but the rain drops were like buckets for they were gigantic. There was no visibility to speak of and I did not see a funnel cloud but I did hear a train in the distance through thunder and lightening strikes that appeared to be all around me, holay! As I approached a designated tornado shelter people were already coming out and told me that the twister was on the east side of I-35w. Fortunately I was on the west side. The sky was still dark with a funny hue and the torrential downpour continued. It was quite eerie and surreal.

 

When I returned to the studio I turned on the boob tube to get more information on the tornado I encountered only to discover there was another one on the ground to the west of me and it was making its way toward my location, gads. In my infinite wisdom I posted some comments on Facebook and Yahoo then made a dash for my trusty iron pony and like before, rain and lightening was doing a number. I made tracks for a clearing (Home Depot Parking Lot) so I could shoot some pictures since I was surrounded by trees and buildings at my previous location. How far beyond stupid was that eh? And I still did not get a good shot, just thick gray clouds that did not show the enormity of the situation. I did get a soda and a Snickers Bar at the QT though. It was business as usual at the lumber yard until I told an employee about the second twister to the west of us though.

 

All the while I could hear my Cousin Antonio’s voice telling me to ‘take pictures’. Antonio is a world class photographer and his work appears around the world including the silver screen, most recently the film ‘Holy Man, The USA vs Douglas White’, a ‘must see film’ by the way. He takes many mortally intrusive risks to photograph history in his on going career so you can imagine his zest for picture taking at all costs and maybe a taste of insanity as well. Guess it runs in the family eh. Unfortunately I did not take that special shot of the twin twisters I was surrounded by and there was a rumor a third was on the ground. Eventually meteorologists reported between 12 and 14 tornados during this swarm. The last swarm of tornados I experienced was in the middle of the night on a desolate Oklahoma highway outside of my reservation a few years back. That was another experience I will not soon forget. I was literally dodging twisters left and right since all I could see was their silhouettes during lightening flashes. The road did appear a bit breezier than normal. Doh!

 

They say the Creator protects babies and fools. In this instance I was the latter since I did not follow any safety precautions and could have been blown all the way to Indiana for my lackluster performance. Maybe someone should pencil in ‘journalists’ to that saying. But you just had to be there to understand where I was coming from since I was totally ill prepared and not dressed for the part. What a time to make a fashion statement. But I’m in good company since first responders and tornado chasers were out and about as well as fellow journalists including news helicopters but they did not have a longyi on. And no, I don’t have a matching handbag either for you boneheads that don’t understand Asian cultures. I do have a camera bag with the National League for Democracy flag proudly embossed on it though. For the record, my longyi was made in Burma and not in China, gawd.

 

But what pisses me off about this tornado story was some of the comments I got from people outside of Texas. Talk about hate mail, geeze. One person took on the persona of G*D and made light of Texans suffering from the rash of tornados. Hate baiting and alluding to prejudice and G*D’s wrath onTexas was the theme with no regard for the people who lost everything in the aftermath. For all intents and purposes G*D was with the good people of Texas because there was no deaths reported even though the tornados traveled deep into some of the most heavily populated areas in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and the state. And it just missed me.

 

Stories of heroism and survival abound including the tale of a grandmother who held an infant by the feet as a twister tried to suck the child from her grasp. There were people from all races helping their neighbors regardless of skin tone in the chaotic aftermath that followed. No one ever mentioned the race card for they were Texans helping fellow Texans blowing apart the ignorantly misconceived stereotype non-Texans enjoy spreading about this state. In an unrelated story the mainstream media tried to paint a picture of racial overtones during Tea Party rallies but they failed to mention that people from all races were Tea Party members here inTexas. I saw for myself as CNN tried in vein to ignore all the non whites holding Pro Tea Party Slogans on one broadcast. But that’s OK, let’s hate Texans.

 

Yup, let’s hate Texans and celebrate the destruction of homes and businesses of innocent hard working people from all races who suffered in the wake of these tornados. Maybe these haters should place a sign on their homes proclaiming their disdain for Texans. That way when disaster strikes their state Texan emergency workers who respond to national emergencies will not waste their time on people who hate them. Unfortunately, they would still risk their lives for you buttheads anyway, sign or no sign.Texas has thousands of emergency professionals including search & rescue, medical and fire personnel who respond to disasters across the USA and the world on a moments notice. So next time you bad mouth Texans just remember in the days to come, disaster may strike and it just might be a Texan who risks his/her life to save your stupid race baiting hate filled keister.

 

But for now, my prayers and heart goes out to everyone here inTexas who survived this catastrophic tornado swarm.

 

Your Devil’s Advocate

Buffalohair

 

© 2012, Buffalohair Productions. All rights reserved.

 

101 Ways to Prepare Long Pork / 2010

101 Ways to Prepare Long Pork

With food shortages and famine encroaching on civilization it should come as no surprise that alternative food sources will gain more popularity as necessity dictates. The ‘junk’ fish people use to discard will find its way onto the frying pan by thankful and starving anglers in the near future. Bones will become the mainstay rather than Fido’s Scooby Treats; hmm Fido will look pretty tasty as well. The 3-Day Chicken will become commonplace once again provided there are chickens. But when things get dicey and sustenance becomes nonexistent, for a host of catastrophic reasons, the dead guy lying next to you may very well hold the key to your existence. Welcome to the dark side of survival, where a person is forced to lift a fork and consume a fellow human being in the age old culinary adventure called cannibalism. Guess a person could use chop sticks or a piece of fry bread if they chose to.

 

Granted this is a very taboo subject and totally unacceptable under most conditions but there are times when dining on others is permissible. Throughout the ages people have been placed in situations where they either died along side others or ate from the flesh of the dead. It was once said that Columbus cut and quartered plump native kids then pickled them in wood casks for his first return trip from the ‘New World’. The Donner Party as well as Al Packer comes to mind in American cannibal lore. An old sailor once told me about an unwritten maritime law where it was OK when stranded in a lifeboat to eat a fellow crewman if they expired before you. The Andes Flight Disaster of Oct. 13 1972 where a Uruguayan airplane crashed in the Andes with a soccer team onboard was a classic case for cannibalism and survival. So please bear in mind that the situation must be extreme before people are added to the menu. And in no way am I condoning human flesh as ‘the other white meat’. Personally I prefer legs and thighs, dark meat please.

 

Let’s say that you and a group of your friends and family survived the time of change and dodged all the bullets man and nature tossed your way. You’ve built a compound with all the amenities your group needs such as living quarters, kitchen and crapper. Reverting to hunter gatherer techniques the hunters would go out in quest of food for the newly evolving clan. Others would scavenge through the ruins of civilization for just about anything useful to bring back to camp. Building materials, clothing, food and other items would be collected as the budding community grows. Eventually anything that was good would be picked through and all the food stuffs would be gathered. Weeks would pass into months then one day the hunters report that the wild game is disappearing.

 

As time progresses, the hunters come back empty handed more and more. Food stuffs gathered from the ruins of civilization become depleted and the villagers are getting hungry. Daily, people begin to sicken as starvation and disease sets in. First it’s the elderly then the children start to die. The healthiest people begin to succumb from the pangs of starvation as well. Then a bulb lights up in your head, “Why don’t we eat Uncle Otis? After all, he’s dead anyway.” In all reality there would be allot of soul searching before a fork touched Uncle Otis since it’s not normal to eat people, let alone a relative. Whence all the tears were shed and you made your peace with the Creator it’s time to prepare supper. Where would a person start when it came to eating human flesh? And where is Andrew Zimmern (Bazaar Foods, TLC) when you need him?

 

Long Pork (LP) has been slang for human meat since time immemorial. Interestingly enough human meat or LP has also been treated like pork since it must be well cooked before consuming. So now you have Uncle Otis on the chopping block. The first thing you should do is to dress him out. No, I don’t mean only take his cloths off but to remove the skin and the internal organs then save. Remove the skinned head and place with organs and skin in bucket. Be careful not to tear or puncture the stomach or intestines since the contents can taint the meat. At this time you should check the liver for spots since that would tell you if the meat is diseased or not. Hopefully Uncle Otis was healthy, other than the fact he starved to death. It is a sure bet he will not have much fat on him. Lean is good since triglycerides and serum cholesterol would still be an issue for some folks. LP is greasy and filled with antibiotics, growth hormones and other nasty chemicals that is in their feed so beware because human is also not Kosher or Halal.

 

LP would provide needed protein for survival in the form of chops and steaks. The back strap would be small but offer tender cuts of meat. Ribs are ribs and neck bone makes good soup. But if you had a grinder burger would be a good way to deal with other odd cuts of meat a human carcass would glean. With that in mind cleaning the intestines would be an excellent idea since you would be able to make sausage also. Hopefully you would have an abundance of salt to preserve your culinary bounty. If not, then it would behoove you to smoke all the meat for preservation sake. There is debate in some circles as to whether red or white wine should be served with LP. In this instance its rule of thumb that red wine should be served since in all actuality LP is a red meat. A vintage Cabernet Sauvignon would be nice. Side dishes are subject to tastes but if you had side dishes in the first place Uncle Otis would not be on the table. Spices are spices so season to taste and hopefully you packed a couple bottles of garlic salt in your survival pack. Just remember to cook until well done because LP may get you sick if served under cooked like other pork products.

 

There are other factors to consider as well. Is there water handy? If not and there is no possibility of finding any, you will soon be dead along side Uncle Otis within a week or so even if you drank his urine and blood. Thirst would trump hunger as dehydration turned your flesh into jerky. Delirium would set in well before you ever got hungry enough to stick a fork into Uncle Otis. Madness would ensue as your system shut down. Death would become your liberator. Worse yet, you are captured by others that enjoy the taste of LP who promptly tosses you on a make shift rotisserie. No salt, no pepper, not even a sprig of parsley. You are roasted alive without a hint of seasoning. How barbaric could it possibly be? Just to add insult to injury your captures would dine on your char broiled essence while drinking a poor quality pilsner beer. Have they no shame?

 

Seasoned or unseasoned there is no question that cannibalism is on the rise around the world. Starvation leads to desperation and cannibalism has taken on a new dimension in this era. Ritualistic cannibalism has gone off the charts as well. This is more ghoulishly macabre by design since it’s not about consuming human flesh for survival; it’s more about consuming people because you like it or some bonehead spirit told you to. The consumption of human fetuses for ritual or virility in stews and stir-fry crosses all continents. The scent of placenta soup still wafts in the air of some old world communities after a child is born. Would feeding fat Burmese babies to leeches in vats of water be considered a form of cannibalism if people ate the leeches?

 

One such restaurant in Thailand specialized in meals prepared with leeches. Burmese soldiers sell infants to Thai human traffickers who in turn sell plump healthy infants to restaurateurs. The restaurateurs fatten up the child then placed them in vats so the leeches can suck the rich milk fed blood from the infant’s veins. The leeches would get fat and juicy then the chef would pluck one out of the baby/water mixture and into a wok filled with spices, vegetables and shrimp paste. To the joy of exotic food aficionados their dining experience would be complete with a piping hot plate of steamed rice and succulent leeches in its own sauce. The leeches would be semi sweet from milk fat yet maintain their musky and savory leech flavor through the ginger onions, garlic and tamarind. So back to my moral dilemma, if the leeches are full of human baby blood when they are cooked and served would the person who ate the leeches be a cannibal? Would the diner be more of a cannibal if they knowingly ate leeches filled with baby blood? It is alleged General Than Shwe of Burma has taken part in sacrificial rituals involving the consumption of human flesh on more than one occasion. Ritual murder and cannibalism has become a military terror tactic for this criminal regime as well. Shwe is not the only one who practices this dark ritual, not by a long shot. Supermodel Naomi “Blood Diamonds” Campbell’s sweetie, Charles Taylor of Liberia comes to mind though I doubt Shwe or Taylor dined on leeches filled with baby blood.

 

If it were not for the fact I heard these eyewitness accounts from Christian missionaries and Karen refugees I would not have fathomed this reality. But after visiting and interviewing the survivors of Burma’s blood soaked regime it became clear torture and death was an excepted part of their normality. The only way to cope with the vivid images of gore from disemboweled bodies hung along pathways or to witness loved ones being butchered to death by a crowd of laughing sadistic soldiers is to raise the bar in what is perceived as sane. If not, a person would surely go mad from all the cruelty they endure. Many of my Asian friends barely raise an eye brow during at bloody western horror movie. In reality they experienced much worse from barbaric soldiers before they came to America. Ritual cannibalism committed by Burmese soldiers was not a surprise revelation. In fact ritual cannibalism is more common than people think and it’s being performed on every continent, well maybe not Antarctica. From India and the followers of Kali to the USA and the secret sects that roam the countryside, LP is on the menu. Maybe next time someone offers you some home made blood sausage you’ll think twice. Toss in a Kaiser roll some sour kraut and mustard, oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.

 

 

In closing, eating people is not cool, generally speaking. Under the right conditions having a filet of Fred or a side of Sidney can save your life in the most extreme of conditions. If you have to eat Uncle Otis the right seasoning and preparation will make the most of your cannibalistic culinary adventure. After all, it’s not your fault you are starving to death. So make the best out of a bad situation with a Cotesdeporc Charcutiere au Otis and a wine of your choosing. Just so you know, eating your neighbors is illegal in most Canadian Provinces though I am not sure about Quebec. It is anybody’s guess in America since politicians are known to eat their young. But if for some reason your fridge is packed with LP chops and steaks now, you may be in need of an attorney. Ritual, fetish or simply because you enjoy the taste of human flesh is no excuse for cannibalism. The exception to the rule is if you’re one of the forgotten millions of homeless and starving people around the globe, bon appétit.

 

Your Devil’s Advocate

Buffalohair

This entry was posted on October 9, 2010 at 7:40 pm and is filed under Reflets Sombres with tags , , , , , , , , .