Monday, January 17, 2011

By The Time I Get To Tucson

Breaking from the funny for a brief editorial on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. I'll resume the lighthearted posts tomorrow.

By The Time I Get To Tucson:

At a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized - at a time when we are far too eager to lay the blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do - it's important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds. - President Obama, January 2011

This Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I can almost guarantee hip-hop fans, civil rights advocates, and people who believe in fighting the power will be viewing, linking, liking, or sharing Public Enemy's hip-hop masterpiece "By The Time I Get To Arizona". In the wake of the attempted assassination of Representative Gabrielle Giffords, I say watching PE this year is the wrong answer.

The American media has spent the last week preaching the need to increase civil discourse. Analysts of all ideologies have proclaimed that we must stop the yelling and try to talk out our issues. Arguing and belligerence is not the answer, and neither is violence.

The first reaction after Rep. Gifford's attempted assassination was to blame Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, and the rest of the right-wing media for the actions of Jared Loughner. Right-wing phrases such as "re-load" and "2nd Amendment solutions" made Palin and her ilk the target of intense national discussion. Whether or not Loughner was influenced by these phrases was irrelevant, but the fact that there could have been linkages was the point of debate. Yet those same violent innuendos permeate the video for "By the Time I Get To Arizona". Within the first minute, we see Public Enemy frontman Chuck D leading a posse of people carrying M-16s, practicing karate, and shooting in a gun range. Even Chuck D's lyrics advocate violence as a political solution.
Until we get some land
Call me the trigger man
Looki lookin' for the governor
Huh he ain't lovin' ya

.

.

The cracker over there
He try to keep it yesteryear
The good ol' days
The same ol' ways
That kept us dyin'
Yes, you me myself and I'ndeed
What he need is a nosebleed

Of course, supporters say "By The Time I Get To Arizona" is political art, not unlike Ice-T's "Cop Killer". It tells the story of a person fed up with being disrespected because of his or her skin color and their desire to see the sacrifices of their heroes acknowledged in by the Government of Arizona. I completely understand that, and the freedom to create art - no matter how it could be interpreted - should never be infringed.

However, celebrating Chuck D's message, especially in light of what happened in Tucson last week, is not the way to go. If "rap is the black CNN", as Chuck D once said, then "By The Time I Get to Arizona" is The Glenn Beck Show. For the impressionable, Chuck D's lyrics and images are no different than the words of any political shill who drums up ratings by spouting off controversy. Repeated daily in a medium that promotes itself as a provider of news and educated opinion, these words are not art, they are calls to action. And unfortunately action words - those of anger and emotion - sell more commercials than voices preaching calm and discourse.

(Of course, rap voices are persecuted more frequently in the media than other form of communication, as Davey D of AllHipHop.com writes in this post. Although back in the day, music was how the black community communicated it's message of frustration - through rap, blues, or spoken word poetry.)

Just because the song's subject matter is about Martin Luther King, Jr. does not mean it should be played every MLK Day. It's meaning was important and relevant when it was released in 1991, and it should be remembered and respected as a voice of dissent during a very difficult time, but today, in the words of President Obama:
"let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together."

Let's leave a farewell letter on the door in Arizona and move on to higher ground.

(Interesting note: The classic country song "By The Time I Get To Phoenix" starts with the image of a man leaving a note on the door of his lover. Martin Luther posted the "Ninety-Five Theses" on the door of the All Saints' Church in Wittenburg, Germany, beginning the Protestant Reformation in 1517.)