The Realease is a space in which words mix with convictions, sentences party with observations, and paragraphs flirt with shoutouts. This is where Hip-hop lovers speak candidly as intellectuals, where archetype meets archetype and find common ground. Here exist no censors, just truth. Actually, this blog is the act of letting go, the unleashing, the emancipation and the liberation of truth. So feel free to release whatever truth you may have. Welcome.
As I sat watchingThe Citythe other day, I began to think about how there is a serious paucity of African-Americans in the fashion industry. Here Whitney Port is, a 24 year-old, white female with a degree in Gender Studies, working for Diane von Furstenburg. How does that happen? Before her gig with DFV she worked for The Peoples Revolution, a Public Relations powerhouse that is well known in the fashion world, and for Teen Vogue before that. All with a degree in yes, you heard right, Gender Studies. It doesn’t make much sense to me. If I aspire to work for a well-known designer, do I too have to be white, wealthy, and have connections? I have seen maybe one or two black people on the show. None of the girls she works with are black, nor are any of her friends (at least from what I’ve seen on the show) black.
Is it impossible for blacks and whites to travel in the same circles, for an equilibrium to exist among careers? It somewhat of the same case with regards to gymnastics. I believe black people are naturally acrobatic, but often times we do not have the money to finance a child’s gymnastics career. That’s why you see one, maybe two of us peppered among the Olympics gymnastics team every four years. As there needs to be more Dominique Dawes, there needs to be more Angela and Vanessa Simmons, but they wouldn’t even be where they are today with Pastry if their father wasn’t Rev Run and if their uncle wasn’t Russell Simmons.
Pretty soon M.I.A will give birth to her first child. One has to stop and think about how this baby will come into the world. I mean his mom will be M.I.A....he'll be rocked to sleep by the sounds of electronic club dubs. He'll be dressed as an african punjab from Brooklyn in 1988. His babysitters will all rock Do the Right Thing Jordans and Hi-Top Fades. He'll get three cuts in his eye brows before he gets his first haircut. His first words will be BANG BANG. From the moment this kid pops out he'll be the coolest kid ever lls(laughin' like shit). Well even if none of that happens he'll still be the child of M.I.A....which pretty much guarantees dopeness. Peace & Blessing to Maya and Ben and good luck on the kid.
Over 1.5 MILLION people will begin flocking to our Nation's capital (&my hometown) for an Inauguration like no other.
&&Did I mention the Star Power?
Beyonce. Mary J. Blige. Mariah Carey. Faith Hill. Jay-Z. Alicia Keys. Shakira. Stevie Wonder. The Jonas Brothers. Miley Cirus. Demi Lovato. Bow Wow. Common. Diddy. Young Jeezy. T.I. Akon. Oprah. Denzel Washington. Jamie Foxx. James Taylor. Usher. Shaq. will.i.am. John Legend. Heather Headley. Herbie Hancock. Queen Latifah. Bruce Springsteen. Wynton Marsalis.
I mean really??
For everyone who isn't on one of "Those Lists," you can join Wale & Bun B at Stussy DCat 6pm on January 19th for a FREE Inauguration Party. Hors d’œuvres and drinks will be served. LOVE Nightclub [ http://www.lovetheclub.com/ ] will be having 21+ events from Friday until Tuesday. VIP tickets are running about $150. Regular cover fee should be about $20 but might be raised due to the expectance of large crowds. Expect long, LONG lines. The Youth Ball, one of 10 official Inaugural Balls, costs $75---but you have to search out where to find tickets. Scour http://www.pic2009.org/.
That dudder Wale is puttin on more efficiently than anyone else out the DMV. So if you are..or aren't from area make sure u cop XXL december issue. Besides Wale it profiles alot of other up and coming notables Asher Roth, Kid Cudi, Mickey Factz, Blu, Charles Hamilton....go do that
Dude Dahlak from ill-literacy...definitely a black genius, big ups on creating this amazing joint. This goes out to you Mr.Obama, god bless the blackness.
I love movements that take it back to fun eras....right now i'm diggin' hard the whole retro shit, this is the a little video of the retro kidz doing their thing....jacked, i mean courtesy of karmaloop tv
"Has our generation been ruined by social networking groups?" It was just one of the fleeting thoughts that occurred to me on one of the countless occassions when a supposed five minute glance on my prefered network, facebook, turned into an hour of nothingness. But, unlike the other numerous thoughts running through my mind in these sessions...this thought might have some actual depth to it. I mean come on...who thinks intelligently while zoning out over facebook?
Thinking deeper into the actual reality of "social networking" the whole concept is slightly awkward, paricularly the setting up of a profile. We are the first generation to try to present ourselves in such a trite way. We give ourselves one page in which we try to explain our being to the world---or at leasst the part of the world interested enough to look at it. Quotes are picked, likes combed through, and pictures carefully selected. We give ourselves a piece of the web and try to explain who we are in a nutshell. We released pictures of our lives, accounts of everything from drunken evenings to fights to break up's. Even the best of us facebook stalk people we have never even talked to in real life. We update statuses, volunteerly so our peoples can peep what we're up to...We laugh, cry, and get mad all at some shit we see over the web. The use of social networks has allowed for an exposal of self not previously had by any generation prior.
Maybe we want to share our lives more fully, or perhaps diaries were just becoming obsolete, or maybe this is just the beginning. Perhaps our kids will have every moment of their lives published on the next generation's facebook instanteously...
After running into a cute guy working at the Travelex counter in Union Station who changed my 25.00 Euro for $27 and some change, I boarded the train to Gallery Place so I could make the brisk walk from there to the Washington Convention Center. The man that stood next to me while waiting to cross the street ending up entering the Convention Center with me. Volunteers donning signs directed us to register and sign in, while one lady seemed to think that I wasn't old enough to volunteer. I AM 18, and I DO have a right to serve my country when opportunities present themselves, so yes, "Brenda IS 18," and no, "I didn't bring you dinner."
Seated amongst a myriad people, I struggled to fathom that I was one of 15,000---out of a pool of over 80,000 people---to be chosen to volunteer for a truly historic weekend. Even though my role may be directing hundreds of spectators to the nearest bathroom, I'll be proud to do so because it is a privilege to serve. Although...I'm not so sure about the hats the gave us...They're basically red, dollar store cotton hats, with lettering that couldn't have cost more than $0.25 a hat. They can easily be duplicated. But I guess nonetheless, I'll wear that hat with pride on January 20, 2009.
