Believe Half Of What You Hear and None Of What You See?

These guys have killed millions. Of people. A lot.

I realized something a few days ago. And I’m not quite sure how to say this so I might as well just say it straight up.

I like being lied to.

Yes, apparently as a fan of mainstream hip-hop, I appreciate being lied to by some of my favorite artists.

Notice I said, MAINSTREAM rap. For all of you boho’s out there who will think this is an indictment on ALL rap, please read the preceeding sentence again. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

*humming Eminem’s “I’ll Kill You”*

N.W.A. lied to me constantly, Mobb Deep lied to me.

T.I. lies to me. Rick Ross lies to me. Lil Wayne lies to anybody who will listen. Common is lying to us all now. Well you get the point. These ninjas are all lying because they continue to write all of these tales of their current street acumen and all of the weapons they travel with and the drugs they currently slang, etc.

And I am a fan.

Now granted, I don’t actually believe any of these dudes do half of the sh*t they claim to do. I don’t believe that Rick Ross is moving that much snow in the hood or that T.I. is still moving blow in the hood. I don’t believe that any of these dudes have murdered anybody, with the possible exception of 50 Cent and that’s strictly due to one line on his song “Problem Child” from like 2003:

“they say you can never repay the price for taking a man’s life/I’m in debt with Christ cuz I done did that twice” – 50 Cent

I’ll admit, I do question the veracity of that statement and maybe it just sounds good in rhyme. But, errrum, most rappers tell you that they WILL kill you, as in future tense. 50 says that he HAS done it. Somehow, that makes me a little nervous. Luckily he isn’t in any jeopardy of going to Heaven anyway as I do in fact believe his posters are plastered through the Great Hall of Hades as one of the biggest proponents of Hell.

But for the most part, I don’t believe most of these rappers. And I’m not saying that none of these dudes sold drugs. I’m sure that T.I. did as I’m sure that Jay-Z did. I’m sure 50 Cent did as well as a slew of other rappers. Of course, there are lots of questions about how big these “drug dealers” were as even Biggie’s own people have said that he wasn’t nearly the drug dealer he claimed to be. Many of these dudes do indeed have the soul of hustlers so I believe that many of them have done SOME of the things they claim in rhyme. Let’s just say that amongst the lies they share resides some segment of truth.

But between all of the murders these rappers claim to be willing to commit and all of the weight that they claim to be moving and the fact that I don’t actually believe any of them are as big time as they claim, it just seems that I like being lied to. I mean, I buy into it as it relates to their persona on wax. And somehow, they seem to buy into their own stories enough to convince me to buy into them. And I’m not alone. For some strange reason, as far as our mainstream rappers go, with the possible exception of Kanye West, we all like to hear about how hard these dudes are and we can easily look past the fact that their entire catalog is filled with odes to drug slanging and killin’ ninjas on the block.

Now for the life of me, I can’t figure out why I’ll let this type of sh*t slide. The lies, I mean. Most normal people detest liars. People that will lie to you are the very people you’d not want to be around. Yet in mainstream rap, being able to convince people of your street respectability, be it fabricated or not, is paramount. If somebody found out that Kenny Rogers had never played a game of poker, well, how upset would the country music world be? Or what if the Dixie Chicks were from Canada? Or what if Guns ‘N Roses didn’t live the life they sang about? Of course, that’s an impossibility because if you’ve seen the vh1 Behind The Music on the Guns, you’d realize, them white boys and Slash were nuckin’ futs.

I guess this all ties into the very notion that even as an educated black man, respect and pride are very important. I live in a black neighborhood and you don’t want anybody to even think about wanting to mess with you. Somehow, these are the problems we concern ourselves with. So I sometimes walk around with this air of “don’t f*ck with me or this might be a bad day for you”. We all know I’m as gangsta as they come, but we also all know that I purchased a Hillary Duff CD. The key is to not let anybody else know it. And I think this is a problem that is unique to the black man experience. I could be wrong, but it seems to me that we spend a lot of time trying to scare the bejesus out of white and black people. Hell, we don’t have anything else…all we have is our respect.

Or so we say.

And maybe that’s why we like to be lied to so much. We spend so much time trying to be the dude that everybody wouldn’t want to mess with, kind of as a manifestation of our idea of self-preservation, that despite the sheer impossibility of many of these rappers claims, we see them as a lot like us, even if we may come from totally different circumstances. Right?

I remember during the last episode of Season 3 of The Wire, after Stringer Bell, had been gangstaliciously murdered by Omar and Brother Mouzone, Detective McNulty was in Stringer’s apartment looking through his books and possessions and couldn’t believe the types of books String had been reading. It was so astounding to him he wondered aloud who in the hell was he chasing?

I wonder if a lot of these dudes are indeed like that. They all seem to look up to Tupac and we know the intelligent hoodlum he was. I know a lot of people don’t like Tupac as a rapper, and I have my days as well, but as a person he was the epitome of the young black man so many of us wish to be. Educated but respected by all. He had the pedigree, he had the struggle, he had the ability to rise above it, and he went out in a blaze of glory. Actually, nix that last part, I’d rather go out while drinking some Kool-Aid when I’m 98.

All in all, I wonder if the reason we love being lied to so much is because so many of us spend time lying to ourselves about who we really are. From white suburban “thugs” to some of the inner-city black “thugs”. Yeah the white boys get to grow out of it, but so many of us black men still fall victim to the idea that we have to be able to be respected in the streets, at age 30.

So yes, I like being lied too. Hell, I enjoy it thoroughly. And I think I don’t pay much attention to it because in some kind of weird way, I understand.

Besides, if I want honesty, I’ll just listen to Milli Vanilli.

So what about you? Do you like being lied to as well or do you even pay attention anymore?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. GIVE ME A REASON TO LOVE YOU BACK aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Introducing VSB Live

Hey VSB Fam,

Per yesterday’s announcement, we are bringing you the livestream channel of the FAMU Forum for Black Men panel featuring Panama Jackson, Wale, Dr. Steve Perry and Enitan Bereola. You can find the video player, chatroom and social stream on our (new!) VSB Live page. You can view, chat and tweet about the event all from our VSB Live page. Make sure to log back on to VSB Live tonight at 7 PM EST (or 7:30ish) for the livestream to begin.

FYI: We don’t have any control over the show or the stream, but let’s keep our fingers crossed that it all goes as planned :) If not, Liz will be MIA at the time of the show (flying somewhere!), and won’t be able to update the site, so you might wanna check FAMU Man Rising for any last minute details and changes.

Hope you guys enjoy!

FAMU Black Men Forum

A Forum For Black Men: Featuring Panama Jackson, Wale, Dr. Steve Perry and Enitan Bereola

What up VSBers,

This is just a quick note to let all the folk in the FAMU/Tallahassee area know VSB’s Panama Jackson will be speaking TOMORROW (Thursday) at their FAMU Man Rising conference. He will be on the Forum For Black Men Panel with Dr. Steve Perry, Wale and Enitan Bereola. Peep the details:

If you’re going, or are in the area and wanna meet up with P, hit us up for more info. The event will be livestreamed too! If and when we get the embed code or link, we’ll create a new post (and possibly a chat) here on VSB tomorrow at 7pm EST. Now back to our scheduled post for the day.

The Definition?

I am Panama Jackson.

I am many things to many people and I am nothing to a lot of people. To many of you I’m black letters on a white background, and to others I’m a confidante and party animal extraordinaire who brings the party when he shows up and takes it with him when he leaves.

I am a son and a father. I’m a boyfriend and a partner (no Siegfried). I cry in the dark and I put my hands where your eyes can see.

I am a Black man.

And yet sometimes I don’t even know what that means. I know what comes with being a man. I’ve been that all my life. And while I’ve been Black all my life it means different things in different places to different people. To some being a Black man means being a monster and a boogie man that will take your Girl Scout and her cookies and leaver her looking like a wilted dandelion. To others I’m an object of study, an odd fascination and curiosity upon which studies and fear campaigns have been built.

My goal is to be a positive light in a community where some of the worst get all the shine. As a Black man in today’s day and age I walk a fine line between street corner hustler and corporate boardroom participant and leader. I live amongst men with nothing and no reason to continue other than to spite death. But I work among men whose sole purpose in life is to grow powerful enough that only God could command more respect.

I am on the lookout because at work I am the same person I avoid in the streets.

I am fear and pain but I’m love and compassion. My community means the world to me even if at times it refers to me as an outsider using its resources for my own personal gain. Ironic considering that my own personal gain is esteem at the hands of another’s lack thereof.

I am a brother and a mentor. I am an uncle and nephew. I’m a role model and a cautionary tale. I’m somebody’s strength and an infrequent picture of weakness. I’m a southerner with northern tendencies, raised conservatively with liberal leanings, and a bringer of the ruckus while usually hoping the problem resolves itself.

I’m strong when necessary yet unappreciative of rodents in my space. I’m a dreamer and a realist. I struggle with raising a child in a world I want while praying for change in the world in which I reside. I’m afraid of the police but rebellious in the face of unregulated authority.

I am a Black man with insecurities but unafraid of life. I appreciate The Doors as much as I appreciate Jay-Z. Ahmad Jamal introduced me to the piano and Eazy-E introduced me to the keys. I’ve got soul and I’ve got rhythm. I dance when I hear music even if no music is playing.

I’m like Che Guevara with bling on, I’m complex. But I’m transparent.

I’m too sexxy for my shirt, so sexxy it hurts. And I’m shy.

I shine on stage while fading into the background.

I’m Timbalands in the summer time and Chuck Taylor’s in the winter. I’m Kenneth Cole and Banana Republic. I’m tall socks and dog tags.

I’m fashion and an oddball. I’m the coolest geek ever. I’m the coolest cat you’ve never met.

He is I, and I am him. Slim with the tilted brim.

I’m the star of the story.

I am a lot and nothing. I’m something and a nobody. I believe I can fly even though I’ve never left the ground.

I go up on the downstroke but I’m down by law.

I’m Panama Jackson and I’m a Black man.

We talked yesterday about what a grown a** Black man needs to succeed in life, but we never defined a Black man.

How do you define a Black man?

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL, HE A 3

6 Things That Every Grown A** Black Man Needs In His Life

Wu-Tang is for the children.

We’ve spent a significant amount of time here at VSB trying to help the womenfolks understand what men are truly looking for in women. And despite all of this help, I still happen to see scowling, angry-visaged, treebiting looking women running rampant on the mean streets of DC.

Sensitive thugs aren’t the only people that need hugs. Boobs and nubs both need hugs.

With that in mind, and with the recession going stronger than Peyton Manning in the 2nd Half of a football game (so sad Sanchez), I figured what the hell, why not shift the focus to the hombres? Fact is, a lot of men out there do suck. Women say it all the time and by law I’m required to deny, deny, deny, but I’m not blind nor stupid. And according to the great homeless philosopher, Homeless Philosopher, “ni**as are n*gg*s, worldwide. You got a dollar?”

There a few things that all grown a** Black men need in order to not only succeed with the ladies, but for life. Allons-y.

1) A Barber

Unless you rock a baldy, every grown a** man needs to have a barber to keep him looking professional and presentable. Hell, the only person higher up on the ladder than a Black man’s barber should be his mother. In fact, a ninja-barber relationship is so important (and fragile) that I just STOPPED going to my barber years ago because I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was gonna shave my own head from here on out. He might think I’m dead. Either way, every Black man needs a first-name-basis-knows-facts-about-my-family barber.

2) Credit Card/Actual Credit Report

While I appreciate the commercials for Eastern’s Motors in the DC Metro area for their use of B-list celebrities and their non-synced lip-synching, your job should NOT be your credit. You should have an actual credit score. And at least one credit card that doesn’t include the words RUSHCARD on it. While I’m not going to tel anybody what their credit score should be (Little Baby Jesus knows that all of us have our times of financial strife), you shouldn’t be getting denied service for a cell phone line. Women frown upon men who cannot own and operate cellphones. Trackphones and MetroPCS do not count.

Speaking of credit…

3) A job

Yes. You need a job mofo. There comes a point in life where you just can’t justify that hobby that takes up all your time with no real return on life. I’m looking at you Teeny. And your ilk. I have a lot of hobbies too. Some of them pay. What, you think Panama Muhf**kin’ writes for free? You need income. What is any woman worth her salt going to be doing dating a man without a job after she’s 22 years old. Women are going to college and graduating. Us? Kinda.

There’s a slight bit of leeway if you just so happened to lose your job in this recession. Blame Obama (it’s been a year now).

4) A dream/Aspirations

Marty Mart had a loft dream and got murked out in Memphis for it. So don’t dream so big. Besides, little kids of different colors been playing together since the 80s. Pick something else. But at least have the nerve to be somewhat ambitious. Women hate men without goals. Hell, I hate men without goals. Youstink. Get your sh*t together, soldier. At least dream of owning something. Even if that something is a box of new pencils.

5) At least one pair of sunglasses

Because you WILL see women who look fly and they will attempt to lock eyes with you as an opening to getting you in trouble. Plus, its easier to look at a** while you’re with your girl if you have on shades. Not that I’d know about that, but I do wear my sunglasses at night (no club) nowadays.

6) Good shoes

A good woman will judge you based on your shoes. If you’re walking around in some Buster Browns that look more beat down than Rihanna in a Lambo, well gangsta, you really need to step your game up. Work harder and spend some money on some decent casual kicks. And no, Nike Boots do not count as quality shoes, you moron.

Patrons of VSB, help a brotha(s) out. What does every grown a** Black man need in order to succeed in life and with women. Let’s do our civic and social duty today.

Kick the truth.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL, HE A 3