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ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT
Blood is Thicker Than...
JamesMcbride's book
discusses family, love
and racial seperation.
By R. Francis Blakeney
Layout and Contents Editor
Long before Tiger
Woods wrestled with his
multicultural heritiage,
James McBride was busy
unearthening the rich
legacy of his ancestry.
McBride, the son of a
Baptist minister, always
knew his mother was
different but could never
pin point it. Years later,
he would find the woman
he called mother — Ruth
McBride Jordan — was
actually Ruchel Dwajra
Zylska, the daughter of
Jews who immigrated
from Poland.
In The Color of Water:
A Black Man's Tribute to
His White Mother,
McBride combines the
techniques of a
memoirist and oral
historian to tell a funny,
frank and fierce story
about love and family. He
unabashedly tells the
story of, a twice-
widowed, self-defined
"light-skinned" woman
raising twelve children in
the economically
challenged Red Hook,
Brooklyn community.
McBride reveals
many intimate and
personal details about his
childhood and family
that many wouldn't dare
share with the public.
From his battle with
drugs during his youth,
to his sister's out of
wedlock pregnancy, his
eloquent usage of
language brings the
reader into the story,
allowing them to
experience life as James
did.
The Color of Water ...'s
true strengh, though, is
McBride's ability to give
voice to Ruth and, most
importantly, Ruchel.
Although one, Ruth
and Ruchel have two
distincly different
stories. And so it is of
great signifacance that
the book opens with
Ruchel proclaiming that
"I been dead to them for
fifty years. . . My family
mourned me when I
married your father.
They said kaddished and
sat shiva."
So a loving mother
finds herself recanting a
painful and abusive past
because central to
McBride's self discovery
is Ruth's ability to honor
that other woman named
Ruchel.
In the end, McBride's
tribute to his mother
becomes a shining
example of a mother's
unyielding love and
devotion to a child. The
Color of Water
transcends race and
touches a place deep
down inside of all us —
the human spirit.
Can You Really Hate OnBusta
Rhymes With a Straight Face
Cha-cha-cha...Imean,
gimme some more!
By Jonathan Howard
A&E Editor
After three solo albums
and approximately three
million guest appearances,
Busta Rhymes has hit that
point. That point in an artist's
career where one's scat could
go platinum and usually does.
So we should expect Bussa-
Bus's third effort to be just
good enough to produce a
single or two and give MTV
another video to cream over
for two or three months until
the next Mase, Puffy or Will
Smith "world premiere
event," right? Well....
That's not what Busta
wants to do with his Extinction
Level Event: The Final World
Front. What Busta wants to do
is make a crate of money and
bounce before his prophecies
of worldwide destruction
come to pass. He's got a family
to take care of, dammit.
And so, by shouting a little
louder, "Rah!"-ing a bit longer
and inviting a myriad of
producers (including Swizz
from Ruff Ryders) and artists
(Mystikal!) to come add to the
mix, Busta acheives exactly
what he wanted:
1) Money in the bank
and
2) A huge crossover
audience without losing any of
that oh, so valuable "street
credibility." (Equaling more
money in the bank.)
On the album, Busta still
sounds like Busta, which is
always entertaining. While
"Gimme Some More" gets
points for raping the "Psycho"
soundtrack before some of us
had even seen the movie
(ahem), "Party is Goin' On
Over Here" is D.J. Scratch's
real work of art. "Do It to
Death" is also worth a listen.
On the downside, the
Busta/Mystikal duo sounds
like a blatant attempt to
convince everybody in the
South and Midwest that
"bounce" music has been
successfully ingratiated into
the NY music scene. The
thing is, everybody over here
already knows that our style
has been bitten. Why else is
Jay-Z saying "Bounce wit'
me" on Can I Get a...?" And
"What's It Gonna Be?!"
sounds like somebody just
got their correspondence
degree from the Timbaland
House of Pop Hits.
Overall, Busta's third
shot gives more of the same.
There could be a few more
tweaks, it's about four or five
tracks too long, but a good
album to keep a party movin'
and the obligatory "asses
shakin'."
I stuck around Suffolk awhile longer, and then 1 left for good
sometime in 1941.1 can't remember the exact time of all this
because it was a bad time. It was bad. I left over Mameh's
objections too. She said, “You can have a good life here," but I
said, "1 can’t live here, Mameh," and she didn't bring it up
ever again or ask me to stay longer. There was no life in Suffolk
for me. I packed what few things I wanted and tried to talk to
Dee-Dee before 1 left, but she wouldn't talk to me. "You
promised you wouldn't go," she said, and she walked away
from me. As / left the store to walk downtown to the bus station,
Mameh handed me a bag lunch and kissed me and I was out
the door and gone. I never saw her or Dee-Dee ever again.
Tateh didn't say a word to me as 1 walked out.
The Greyhound bus station was across from the Suffolk Hotel
in those days. I was standing ther waiting therefor the bus to
cme, when Tateh pulled up in his car. He kept a big V-8 Ford.
He got out and took his hands out of his pockets and started
pacing. He said, "You should stay."
I said, "I can’t.” I was nervous. He always made me nervous.
"I'll get you a route,” he said. "You can have your own
route, selling apples to farmers in the country. You'll make a
bundle. Or you can geta job in Norfolk. You can move there."
I said no.
"You want to go to college? I'll send you to college in
Norfolk. Or business school, whatever you want, but you have
to stay."
"I can't do that."
"I'm telling you to stay,” he said. Hear me? I need you to
run the store. And your mother needs you."
I began to yell at him and we argued. Here he was having
divorced Mameh and he was still using her against me. The
he said/'l know you 're gonna marry a shvarste. You 're making
a mistake." That stopped me cold, because I didn't know how
he learned it. To this day I don't know. He said, "If you marry
a nigger, don't ever come home agian. Don’t come back."
— from James McBride's
TheCNm^f^fhiteMBladcMarLsTributetoHisWiiteModier^
By Ignorance Incorporated
1. Why are y’all surprised the Falcolns didn't when
the Super Bowl? 2. And aren 't you mad it wasn't warm
so we could pillage and loot? 3. Was that Dan Reeves
doing the '"Dirty Bird"? 4. Was he trying to prove
once and for all that white men can't dance? 5. Is Foxy
Brown's Dunlap syndrome that out of control? 6. Was
Club Delta's Thriller performers not the best Michael
Jackson impersonation you’ve ever seen? 7. Jay-Z's on
Juvenile's remix, ha? 8. Shouldn't Money, Cash, H@#s
be Morehouse's new motto? 9. And with Spelman girls
these days, don't you hope them H@#s is white? 10.
Did anyone actually expect Master P to make it in the
NBA? 11. Would he and Larry Johnson have formed
the Gold Toothed Players Association? 12. And would
Pimp C and Trick Daddy be next? 13. Do you know
Nain N%GG@ that rhyme worse than him? 14. Why
does that cat have a TV in his Jetta? 15. What the #&% *
does he watch in there?! 16. Can you really help hat
ing that junior with the brand new drop top candy-red
vette? 17. I can't. 18. Why can't I drink on campus
legally? 19. Why doesn't that stop me? 20. Why didn't
the invisible cynic write this crap?