My goodness gosh jones. Things are getting a bitty silly on Capitol Hill. I mean, with Senator Lindsay Graham spending an entire day being a buffoon amongst bastards, rejectionism, and misdirected media attention (an entire day for Tom Daschle and that other girl with the cabinet position no one will remember? I understand, Obama’s running a bit ‘Al Capone Chicago’ with all these tax criminals; however, is that really enough to warrant us forgetting over FUCKIN’ 100,000 Americans losing their jobs in one week! How much could they really say about Tom Daschle anyways? Apparently a day’s worth.).
That said, Barack Obama is really utilizing the media quite effectively these days. I really enjoy the op-ed he did for the Washington Post. It’s seriously quite awesome having a President that enjoys writing. It really justifies my otherwise unjustifiably bohemian profession of choice (to push the point across, bohemian–in this sense–is NOT used in a positive (NOTE: cool) connotation). The President writes rhetorical prose on the side. BAM, Jet Generation is legit.
I’m also enjoying Barack Obama finally sticking a fist at the damn Republicans who are being stubborn little sons ‘a’ bitches right now. Will someone please tell me why their strict adherence to Reaganomic failure is still lurking around these days? STUBBORNITY. All that’s going down is a bunch of ‘talk, talk, talk’ and then, when you ask them what they want, they just huffaw and say, “Tax cuts?”
And please, don’t get me started on that silly fack Michael Steele and Limbaugh. Damn dirty Limbaugh.
Anyways, we here at Jet Generation try to keep the politics at bay (Ed: HA WE FAIL THEN). It’s not necessary, in a world saturated with pundits, for a pop culture shitstorm like this to delve its pretty toes into that poison water (Ed: WE FUCKIN’ DRANK THAT SHIT LIKE IT’S SIZZURP). What I really wanted to focus on is Barack Obama’s admittance of error regarding the Tom Daschle/that girl who was supposed to be Chief Officer of Maximum Performance affair.
“I SCREWED UP,” Barack Obama
And with that, the article shifts a bit. I mean I quoted him in BOLD. New game.
The President’s willingness to recognize his mistake is humanizing. Indeed, many–more conservative of course–pundits rue the day that our President; the hallowed mutant amongst blue-team X-Men (NOTE: For argument’s sake, Cyclops, Psylocke, Gambit, and Wolverine explain, in simple terms, why this team PWNS the gold-team), would dare humanize himself. However, I enjoyed it because it brings him down to the land of sinful errors that we humans call Earth.
Barack Obama is real.
With that in mind, and with this post being a music post; for some odd reason, the only thing I can think about is that great period when 112 and Jagged Edge existed. I mean, I suppose they were a bit antithetical when it comes down to it. With the Republicans highlighting minor points of the Obama administration that ultimately result in the formation of stupid myths and folklore, Barack Obama is being portrayed as an anti-Davy Crockett of sorts. Instead of highlighting his noteworthy efforts to actually change things, you get this President who apparently isn’t living up to expectations despite an administration life of a whopping two weeks, who–despite his efforts–is still AWOL, and who can’t quite seem to keep his attempts at political ethics control in check. All in all, it’s all falsely looking like, instead of swinging his empty rifle at the enemy, Obama’s taking the piss and getting ready for the execution.
112 and Jagged Edge, on the other hand, represent this wonderful time in hip hop when rising from the ghetto was actually decadent and beautiful. I mean, rappers were a bit too gritty and reminiscent of the improverished streets they grew from. Seriously, all that bling quite clearly symbolizes that you guys aren’t really living in the projects anymore. That’s totally X-Men gold-team shit right there (and please, don’t point out to me that Storm was on that team as a matter of coincidence you stereotyping racists). With that said, I digress:
Blue Team: Cyclops, Psylocke, Beast, Rogue, Gambit, Wolverine, and Jubilee
Okay, skunk-hair sugah up there (Rogue) and silly fireworks girl (Jubilee) kinda bring that team down. But compare it to this failure:
Gold Team: Storm, Bishop, Colossus, Archangel, Iceman, and Jean Grey
Jean Grey? I would never be able to hang out with a fuckin’ bitch of that caliber ever. Iceman? Douche. Archangel? Are you serious? Talk about rue, I rue the day that that bastard got metal wings and became an ARCH. It’s like G-Unit with Storm being the only powerhouse there and therefore assuming the subtly powerful role that Lloyd Banks held under the dictatorial jokes of the BISHOP that is Curtis Jackson.
That aside, 112 and Jagged Edge were truly roses that grew out of concrete. Indeed, the imagery of their videos were full of expensive cars, the requisite video “hos”, and stupid nicknames (“It’s the S, the L, the I, the M HAHAHAHAHAHAHALAWL); however, instead of hard voices and dark filters, their videos were bright and their voices angelic.
Example 1:
Look at those buffoons. They seriously did not appreciate their Mathematics teacher in school. However, look at the constrast between their posing and the heavenly sky behind them. This image, more than any in hip hop, exemplifies the true aesthetic heights that this briefly appreciated time in the music exemplified. These guys posed like rappers; rough and brutal, yet they were beautiful. Mimetically speaking, this is as close to Plato’s Forms as the art of hip hop has ever gotten.
Example 2:
The smoke behind them is symbolic of a soul rising to the heavens and achieving spiritual perfection (Ed: HAHAHA That was some serious BULLshit right there).
I don’t know where these guys came from to be honest. For all I know they were born in a golden chariot, birthed under the glorious light of Excalibur; however, that’s not the myth I’m going with. As opposed to Barack Obama, these guys are Davy Crockett. Despite the odds being against them, they fought till the end for The Alamo. However, instead of their ultimate demise, they came out on top.
Pathetic attempts at tying politics to early-millenium R’n'B aside, this is seriously the closest this series has gotten to playing music that someone would actually listen to while thinking of someone naked. I mean, I guess Black Flag works but that’s gotta be some gnarly person I’m sure. It’s all about being hot folks. Otherwise, there’s no reason to be alive.
112 ‘Peaches and Cream’
And, because ‘Where the Party At’ has been previously posted, another Jagged Edge classic:
‘Trade It All’ (featuring Puff Daddy and Fabolous)
And, if you’re wondering, I always preferred cruising the boulevard with ‘Peaches and Cream’ blasting. 112 was always sexier. But, in all honesty, I have a permanent soft spot for Jagged Edge.
//Vladimir Sorokoskev
