ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, September 18, 1996 TAG: 9609180069
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: Cal Thomas
SOURCE: CAL THOMAS
IN ``THE Mourning Bride'' (1607), English playwright William Congreve observed that ``music has charms to soothe a savage breast.'' Congreve could not have foreseen the gangsta rapper Tupac Shakur.
Contrary to Congreve's observation, Shakur, who died last week of wounds sustained in a drive-by shooting in Las Vegas, offered nothing in his ``music'' to soothe his fans, but instead stirred up the savagery of some inner-city youth. An ``expert in hip hop and rap music'' tried to explain the ``significance'' of Shakur's life and the ``contributions'' he made to black culture to a National Public Radio interviewer. Seriously.
The ``expert'' on NPR was explaining that Shakur spoke for and to many black youth because he got down on their level. Is this beneficial? Or would it be better for heroes to elevate poor and young blacks predisposed to violence - and all people - to a level that promotes their own and the general welfare?
Shakur's ``music'' was more nihilistic commentary than entertainment. To him, there was no meaning in life, and the only avenue for inner-city youth that made sense was the destruction of all authority, starting with killing police officers, a favorite theme in his music.
Shakur might still be alive today if his recording company, appropriately named Death Row Records, had not posted the $1.4 million bail last October to secure his release from a New York penitentiary pending appeal of a 41/2-year sentence for rape and sexual abuse. He had earlier been placed on probation for weapons possession and assault charges.
News of Shakur's death produced the usual statements of shock. Brad Krevoy, the producer of ``Gang Related,'' an urban-thriller film starring Shakur that is due for release next February, said, ``Is there anything positive that can be learned from a tragedy like this? Hopefully, kids can learn from it.'' Not likely. The kids who liked Shakur had already learned the lesson he taught them about hate, violence and rebellion.
When Bob Dole delivered a campaign assault on popular culture last June, he was widely attacked by those who produce the entertainment community's equivalent of environmental pollution. There was lots of talk of First Amendment rights and the ``chilling effect'' on ``creative expression'' any attempt by government to muzzle the entertainment industry would have. At the time, the black social critic Stanley Crouch wrote in Time magazine that the issue of violent lyrics in music and bloody scenes in film is not about freedom of expression but about profiting from the pathetic lives of the powerless poor.
Wrote Crouch: ``Narcissism and anarchic resentment are promoted in such a calculated fashion that numskull pop stars pretend to be rebels while adhering to the most obvious trends. ... These people are not about breaking taboos, they are about making money.''
If gangsta rap is about getting down to the level where some people live, it's also where too many people die, like Tupac Shakur, gunned down at 25. (Shakur's obituary ended with this sad and lonely sentence: ``He is survived by his mother.'' She is a former Black Panther, another violent dream that died.)
Do the record companies and retailers who promote and sell this stuff feel no shame? Where is their social responsibility? Just because their kids live behind the protective shield of comfortable neighborhoods, can they shut their eyes to other people's children who exist and die in streets filled with bullets and blood?
In an interview with Vibe magazine earlier this year, Tupac Shakur said children should be told that ``because I'm talking about it doesn't mean it's OK.'' Tragically, I don't think that message got through. Impressionable kids heard Shakur loud and clear: Violence is cool, hip and an answer to whatever misery they may feel.
- Los Angeles Times Syndicate|
LENGTH: Medium: 73 linesby CNB