Girl on Fire

http://www.therealnews.com/chuck/index.php

For as long as I have been a writer, which is roughly my entire life, I have loved hip-hop.  Not mainstream "life ain't nothin' but bitches and money" hip-hop, but authentic hip-hop.  The kind that is honest, tells a story, weaves a spell, makes your head nod without you even realizing it.  I remember when hip-hop was a form of therapy, of cultural observation, of minority empowerment.  I remember when it wasn't infested with faceless, nameless girls in patches of fabric that are supposed to constitute a wardrobe thrusting their bodies around so that they can help make millions of dollars they will never see.

I remember when hip-hop was poetry laced with a catchy beat.  I remember when it was something you were proud to introduce to the next generation.  Now all I see for the most part is just a machine created by old white men who keep regurgitating the same formulas over and over.