YO YO YO BABY WHAT’s UP?
Thanks to Pseu for the thoughts below – remember peeps this is a Citizen Journalism site so make the most of it… send us your thoughts!
Pseudonym is a constant observer of human behaviour ; sometimes disgruntled, even paranoid. But has moments of awe demonstrated through her ferocious penmanship. The following article allows you a glimpse of all the quirks and idiosyncrasies th…
at we ( or others we know) indulge in.
Be warned – you may not always agree…
Keeping It Real
“Yo, yo, yo, baby…wassup?”
I turn around and confront a figure in baggy jeans, a hooded jacket and takkies – sorry, I meant sneakers – with a notebook for unexpected inspiration and a vocabulary full of hip hop lingo. A girl can but try to restrain the overwhelming feelings of desire ignited by such a power-packed combination.
What gets me about these “fine brothas” is their knowledge of their culture and their loyalty to their real selves. While exchanging Playstation game tips, they can tell you about the struggle of the African people and their adversities. About how they get through the day by logging on to www.ohhla.com (online hip hop lyrics archive) for their daily dose of lyrical honesty. They have in-depth discussions about how “the struggle continues”, while flashing their latest Nike gear. And they keep telling me I’m not “down with the program,” at least not yet, while they check the time on their Rolex watches and keep eye contact through dazzling Diesel eyewear.
Another vital characteristic is the way they hang their pants oh-so low, exposing their boxers, sometimes to the point that their points are dragging on the floor. Why can’t people understand it? I mean, what’s to understand about an expression of individuality by such a large group of people? Why do simple statements against conformity need explanations, especially with our history?
It’s amazing how so many of them manage, on a regular basis, to pull one leg of their tracksuit pants up to the knee – after Usher, Redman, LL Cool J, Method Man and Raekwon did the same; these dogs are truly unique, with their Fubu and Timberland (and for those with simpler tastes, Fube and Timbeland, purchased from external diminutive affordable businesses.) And somehow, through all the playa-hating, they always manage to “keep it real”, never giving in to outside influences, staying loyal to themselves and their country.
All this leaves me sitting in class for hours, daydreaming about the day, when I acquire my own “fine brotha”. And when I catch sight of a bunch of girls screaming and sighing over those American hip-hop guys, I just shudder and think; you can keep them. Who wants those guys anyway when we have the ‘real’ home-grown goods right here?
This satirical essay was published in the ‘Laugh It Off Annual, Vol. 2’
Also Known As&
One has only to wonder about the constant, ever growing phase of aliases, AKA’s. See once upon a time people had nicknames, this was a term given or bestowed upon them by their partners, friends, family members or colleagues. It would also be connected to them through a habit, characteristic or incident. At times it could misshape your reputation as it would allude to who you are, especially for strangers.
Now aliases seem to be the opposite. They are mostly bestowed by – ourselves. We shape them to represent how we want to be seen, which is mostly positive. But they are more of an egocentric phase than a self-affirmation. We create those to set ourselves apart from others, to elevate ourselves to a higher rank in the social hierarchy. Plus it also emphasizes a -je nai se quoi’ specialty about us. It’s gotten so out of hand that I’ve begun to realize I don’t know the ‘real’ names of my colleagues. And I have enlisted myself in a quest wherein I utter only birth names.
NO ALIASES, NICKNAMES OR STAGE NAMES.
In a world where we are constantly trying to find ground, discover who we are and what we really want – do things like this only serve to hinder that self-discovery? Like a new form of make-up for the soul. Not to serve as an escape, but a trap that’ll ultimately limit our potential for breaking outside borders. How can we open our minds, if we keep finding new ways to lock them?
