The Hip Hop Anthropologist

 The podium at the United Nations, once a sanctum for statesmanship and sober reckoning, groaned pitifully beneath the weight of a bloated comic carnival barker in a baggy suit, flapping like an elderly circus seal for over fifty minutes. What was once a crucible for global consensus had been hijacked by a deranged ringmaster who mistook belligerence for strength, applause for legitimacy. The scaffolding of international alliances—delicate, deliberate, hard-won—was treated like stage décor, minus the cheap, gaudy, and fake Home Depot gold, for a soliloquy of self-congratulation, absent the blueprints of shared humanity; replaced by the crude etchings of grievance and vanity. It was not diplomacy; it was demolition dressed down in patriot drag, debased into a ledger of petty vendettas and theatrical chest-thumping. The world did not lean in to listen—it sat stunned, bracing for the next verbal Molotov hurled from a pulpit now repurposed as a bully’s balcony. The orange-tinged face o...

 I am a man. I’ve been a man for a long time. I’m also an intellectual. I was a precocious child. For a while, I was a thug. Some would argue—incorrectly—I still am. I’m a martial artist. Not gifted or polished. But I know what I know. I can apply those skill sets in a street self-defense situation with little effort. So those who know that part of my background would call me an intelligent thug. But like most folks, I’m more than the sum of my parts. And yet—I’m scared. Not of people. Not of violence. Not of hardship. I’ve never been scared of anyone or anything in my life. But I see the precursors of something we’ve never faced before in this country. I see thoughtful, highly educated people defending a common criminal, conflating loyalty with legitimacy, and rationalizing the erosion of constitutional guardrails. What’s forming isn’t just conflict—it’s total collapse. And before we even get to that point, we need to confront what’s already happened. A high court, scared out of i...