This timely reflection on male identity in America that explores the intersection of fatherhood, race, and hip-hop culture
The first time I saw my father do coke, I was about six," author (and occasional NPR critic) Juan Vidal writes in his new memoir, Rap Dad: A Story of Family and the Subculture that Shaped a Generation. "Batman Underoos in full effect. I didn't know what the powder was on his stache, but I remember wishing he'd take me to see the snow."
Vidal found fellowship and wisdom in rap, as a fan and later a performer —
The White Cultural Left -the modern-day Weepers- has officially gone full Squeaky Fromme.
"Decolonize your bookshelf" is what some Manson type cult leader would demand of his or her acolytes.
It's fucking Jonestown.
Everyone go out and buy Kipling, just to piss off this vato
Everyone go out and buy Kipling, just to piss off this vato
Seriously. I was just a few minutes ago (before reading this) thinking about taking up a study of Kipling. I've never really read him other than some of the well-known poems.
"If you take the first step, you will take the last."
More people reading Kipling would piss the Leftzis off, especially "The White Man's Burden", Kipling's cautionary work as the US took over custody of the Philippines from Spain after the Spanish-American War.
He was a man ofvhis times, which weren't our times. But his work stands on its merits, whether the book banners and burners like it or not.
"If-" has stood the test of time. "Rap Dad" hasn't.
" If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Juan Vidal, author of Rap Dad
The White Cultural Left -the modern-day Weepers- has officially gone full Squeaky Fromme.
"Decolonize your bookshelf" is what some Manson type cult leader would demand of his or her acolytes.
It's fucking Jonestown.
Everyone go out and buy Kipling, just to piss off this vato
This!
Seriously. I was just a few minutes ago (before reading this) thinking about taking up a study of Kipling. I've never really read him other than some of the well-known poems.
"If you take the first step, you will take the last."
More people reading Kipling would piss the Leftzis off, especially "The White Man's Burden", Kipling's cautionary work as the US took over custody of the Philippines from Spain after the Spanish-American War.
He was a man ofvhis times, which weren't our times. But his work stands on its merits, whether the book banners and burners like it or not.
"If-" has stood the test of time. "Rap Dad" hasn't.
" If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
The very best of the best. We should all read it every day. Thanks pede.