Friday, August 3, 2012

Thoughts on Snoop Dogg Lion


I remember when Prince became "The Artist Formerly Known As Prince". I remember when Puff Daddy became "Diddy". I remember when Soulja Boy became Soulja Boy Tell 'Em. But no musicians name change has prompted a WTF from me like Snoop Dogg's Lion's. Apparently, Snoop has looked 'pon de light and found Jah. That's right. Snoop is now a Rastafarian.

I understand that identity is complex. Contradictory. Constantly evolving. Fluid. I certainly am not the same person I was 10 years ago. But at the risk of sounding judgmental, I get the sense that Snoop suffers from a perpetual state of adolescent-like identity crisis. A mere three years ago, Snoop Dogg proclaimed himself to be a member of the Nation of Islam. I'm not sure if he became Snoop X privately, but his public persona didn't really change. Before that, he claimed to have given up marijuana but I don't think that lasted too long. With his newfound Rastafari I think we can safely assume the weed-free chapter in his life is closed.  

Rastafari is a unique religion with an intriguing history founded (in part) on the idea of self actualization for Black people struggling in the New World. Babylon is a metaphor for oppressive Western societies and Zion (Africa) is to be respected as the cradle of mankind and the Black Man in particular. I guess I'm confused because this is in direct opposition to Snoop's earlier take on Africa, where he thanked slave masters for "bringing us niggas over here". I wish I was lying:

Thursday, August 2, 2012

The Truth About the Gabby Douglas Hair "Controversy"


Like many of you I've managed to keep up with a few of the Olympic events despite NBC's appalling coverage. Swimming and gymnastics are among the most popular sports for U.S audiences, and these events are all the more compelling this time around because because of a few breakthrough personalities and hot bodies.

Regardless of how you feel about Ryan Lochte's corny "ice grill", you have to admit he's a total cutie. The surprising defeat Phelps suffered earlier this week, and the record-breaking comeback is the stuff American classics are made of. If you never had an interest in fencing before, the courageous and dignified protest by Shin A-Lam, the slighted South Korean fencer who was cheated out of her shot for the gold medal, would make anyone take a second look.

I remember watching the Magnificent Seven with awe during the 1996 Olympics. Graceful, powerful sprites bursting through the air in such a unique display of athleticism. And who can forget Strug's one-legged vault to victory? Cliche as this may sound, the gymnastics team initially caught my eye because of Dominique Dawes. It was, and still is, rare to find people of African descent in sports outside of soccer, American football, track & field, and basketball. I don't follow any particular sport with dedication but there is something to be said, beyond the overplayed race/genetics argument, about who plays what sport, why, and what that means. Every four years, the Olympics becomes an international platform for a variety of discussions.

16 years later, with the digital age in full swing, a young gymnast from Virginia reminds me of what I felt while watching the Atlanta games in 1996. Curiosity. Excitement. Gabby Douglas has an infectious smile, a warm demeanor, and a look of quiet determination. She is a part of a compelling team of young gymnast dubbed "The Fab Five". And as of this moment, Douglas and her teammates are gold medalist. Douglas went on to win an individual gold medal, much to the disappointment of the Russian silver and bronze medalist. She is the first African American to worthy of the all-around gymnast title.

If you do an Internet search on Gabby right now, among the articles detailing her victory, you'll find a number of articles focusing on her hair. I don't straighten my hair so perhaps I don't have an eye for imperfectly laid hair. Sometimes I wonder if people focus on something so trivial, because it's far easier to have pseudo intellectual debates about what's on your head as opposed to what's in it.