Posted on 05/13/2011 8:24:46 AM PDT by Starman417
Michelle Obama has invited rapper "Common" to the White House to read poetry. Conservative groups are displeased with the invitation and that is causing a predictable reaction from the left:
Even though it's 2011, we're still litigating whether rap music in and of itself is a societal corrosive or an artistic expression that channels raw experience and expurgates emotions in the form of a catharsis. It's really the old Plato versus Aristotle rap battles over the artistic merits of tragedy -- at least we can dance to it, so there's that.But the news today is that Michelle Obama is having some poets over to the White House to read some poetry, and that one of those poets is Chicago rapper Common, and OH MY GOD did you know he's rapped about violence? It's true, and the Daily Caller is beefing about it.
The principle argument centers around the imagery of violence and what seems to be a call for the death of George W. Bush:
"A Letter to the Law"
No time for that, because there’s things to be done Stay true to what I do so the youth dream come from project building Seeing a fiend being hung With that happening, why they messing with Saddam? Burn a Bush cos’ for peace he no push no button
The truth is, that's small potatoes. There's much, more of this poet's eloquence. And that's before we get to his support of cop killers.
"Orange Pineaapple Juice"
Peep the maneuver, how bout the Heim-lich I rhyme sick and you can get the duck, coon I'm the shit, you're shit out of luck, tough I'm the act to follow, housing kids like Ronald Mac like Donald Goines, flows I change like coins Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng, choyoyoyoyyyyyng I draw a crowd like blood with the 'pint of' technique and everybody there be like, "YEAH!" Cause cain't near a nig dat'll say 'Whoomp, There It Is' I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids shit they be like, "Com-mon!" That's my muhfucka true Youse a hamburger, I'ma Fudrucker askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard So where's the beef, jerky? I'm as Worthy as James, not that good with names but I do remember your face from someplace this is one taste of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' many mo' flavors Don't just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin niggaz under on the tundra, cause "they're plain, they're plain" (Fantasy Island) I'm on a plateau that is fat so It's just a fan-tasy, for the fans to see how I land, I'm grand like a finale I'm goin back to Cali (why?) cause Cali got bitches check it Aiyyo Dart this is a sickness
"Real Nigga Quotes"
Real nigga quotes I tote, got some shit on the free but This some shit that I wrote, legendary like The Goat Who got game? Giving a quarter rest while I make these quarter notes My album, niggaz was expectin, now my water broke Before it, I was sorta broke Get the paper for the funnies, sports and the horoscope On a curry goat, like flu stokes order coke You sharp with your rings and chain but you short a rope At the end of the road trip still, I'ma hold shit down like syndrome Rappers are like Fox Brown tryin to get home Rarely get your touchdown, I'm in the end zone You can't honor what I'm on, then bitch nigga, get gone >From the wind storm, I've been told the street folklore Body language spoke raw, don't talk to broads that are spoke for That provokes war, stand out like cold sores You claim that you hard but you wholecore George Bush and CIA, you movin old or I Wright like Richard for publishing while you sold yours
I use to love H.E.R.
I might've failed to mention that this chick was creative But once the man got you well he altered her native Told her if she got an image and a gimmick that she could make money, and she did it like a dummy Now I see her in commercials, she's universal She used to only swing it with the inner-city circle Now she be in the burbs lickin rock and dressin hip And on some dumb shit, when she comes to the city Talkin about poppin glocks servin rocks and hittin switches Now she's a gangsta rollin with gangsta bitches Always smokin blunts and gettin drunk Tellin me sad stories, now she only fucks with the funk Stressin how hardcore and real she is She was really the realest, before she got into showbiz I did her, not just to say that I did it But I'm committed, but so many niggaz hit it That she's just not the same lettin all these groupies do her I see niggaz slammin her, and takin her to the sewer But I'ma take her back hopin that the shit stop Cause who I'm talkin bout y'all is hip-hop
It's positively Whitmanesque. I have a couple of questions:
Does Michelle Obama allow her girls to sing these lyrics? Is this "poetry" on the kids' i-Pods?
Just askin'.
This is the "poetry" I want to see read to the kids at White House.
(Excerpt) Read more at floppingaces.net...
Well we have to remember that she married the author of “Dreams For My Father.”
That isn’t poetry, but instead talentless, semi-literate, violent, hate-filled, maggot infested trash.
There’s even more classlessness and stupidity in Michelle Obama’s head than there is fat in her rear end.
You forgot his other verse:
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own?
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, 60
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe,
Like wither’d leaves, to quicken a new birth;
And, by the incantation of this verse, 65
Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawaken’d earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? 70
Common: a synonym for vulgar
“Common: a synonym for vulgar”
###
Common?
He not even no what it mean.
It sound good tho.
This trash is fueling the “gangsta” ethos that is destroying whole generations of Black youth and now is spreading to Indian Reservations. That this crap is celebrated by the Obamas shows what low lifes currently occupy the White House.
You can take the Obama’s out of the hood but you can’t take the hood out of the Obama’s.
Percy Bysse Shelly, ‘Ode To The West Wind’.
He should be this administrations Poet Launderette.
That is uncalled for. No matter what one thinks, those kids look NOTHING like William Ayers...
Just wow, that’ all I can say.
That is uncalled for. No matter what one thinks, those kids look NOTHING like William Ayers...
Speaks volumes about her taste in literature.
"Youse a hamburger, I'ma Fudrucker askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard So where's the beef, jerky?"
That's some good stuff there!
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