The New H.N.I.C.: The Death of Civil Rights and the Reign of Hip Hop

1 No Time for Fake Niggas: Hip Hop, from Private to Public

1 No Time for Fake Niggas Hip Hop, from Private to Public I came to bring the pain/hardcore to the brain. —Method Man, “Bring the Pain” Choppin’ Up Game As long as I can remember, my father and several of his friends would get together on Saturday morning for a lively breakfast. Over the years the restaurant locations have changed constantly, and the participants have tended to come and go, depending on what was happening in people’s personal lives at a given time. What was constant was the intense conversations that would take place around the breakfast table. I have been fortunate on many occasions to be able to witness these breakfast sessions as an interested observer. The meetings were certainly generationally specific, thus my words were limited to a few because I was simply too young to get in this game. It was not my place, and I never had a problem being quiet and listening, taking everything in like Absorbine Jr. These conversations were fascinating to me, so much so that I have tried to re-create the same atmosphere with several of my own friends over the years. Their breakfasts would usually begin with my father’s playing Cannonball Adderly’s classic “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy” on the jukebox. This was like the sound24 ing of the bell, so to speak. Let the games begin! The topics could range from the purchase of someone’s new car to some recent sporting event, but most often the conversations would have to do with race and race relations in America. These men, most of whom were born before 1940, had a very distinct view of the world, and though they seldom came to a consensus, the discourse itself was fascinating. Some of these men were Black Nationalists, some of them were Republicans, most of them were somewhere in between those two poles. This is what made for the lively give-and-take. What was so important about these discussions was that they had a certain sense of freedom to them. The men were free to express their beliefs openly. You might get clowned for saying some bullshit, you might get dismissed as an Uncle Tom, regardless, it was open, and everyone knew the unwritten rules. Say what you want, just be able to defend what you say. The freedom of the exchange had to do with the fact that these were discussions , in essence being held in private, although in public places. It was the men’s conversation, and no one else was listening. They could say what they wanted and, of course, this was not the case as it pertained to their place in mainstream America ; certainly it was not the case when one considers the time they came up as Black men. Here they were free to discuss whatever, without the eye or ear of the proverbial “White man” interfering in any way. This is what made the conversations so lively; the freedom to say what the fuck you wanted to say, without fear of any sort of retribution or consequences for your words. I am happy to tell you that most of what they had to say, sounded very much like Chris Rock. In a society where the Black voice is often muted if not downright silent, these Saturday morning breakfast discussions were just the opposite. They were loud, boisterous, and quite insightful as well. It was as though these men were providing the commentary that had often been missing from the one-sided presentation that Black people received in the mainstream media. Although the NO TIME FOR FAKE NIGGAS 25 conversations were decidedly pro Black, it was not beyond these men to criticize their own people. As a matter of fact, this was a featured point of the discussions. Their criticisms, however, were spoken in the spirit of love, however biting they may have been. It was as though the mainstream was not getting it right because its agenda was suspect. The mainstream wanted to see Black people in a certain way. These men wanted to see Black people in a certain way too, but they used the negative always as a way of getting to the potential of the positive. It was understood that they came in love, not in anger or alienation, and it was expected that their comments be treated as such. The furthest concerns from their minds were...