The Rap on Congress

I was hoping to go to bed this evening having tasted a good laugh for dessert.

My wish has come true. I'll be turning in, in a few minutes. But first, I was thrilled to find updated news reports about a U.S. Congressional committee holding hearings on scary, scary rap music lyrics.

That's right. These numbnuts whom we elected to administer the law, measure the effectiveness of law, when necessary write new law, defend the citizenry, preserve our good legal traditions, adjust or eliminate our bad ones, and preserve our basic freedoms, are holding hearings on sexism, racism, and violence in rap music lyrics.

Here's the thing: go back and read the past year-and-a-half's worth of archives. You'll find at least a half dozen posts in which I blasted gangsta rappers, and bling rappers for making violent or plain old stupid tunes with no substance and helping to pollute mushy minds. But the way to fix the "problem" of violent, vile, or just plain stupid lyrics is to raise your kids in a way that they understand most professional "pop" musicians are lucky morons who periodically stumble across catchy melodies, not people to take behavior lessons from. Congress can pass don't ask, don't tell. They need to consider don't like, don't buy.

So unless Congress is planning on doing away with the 1st Amendment, they have no business doing anything with rap except bobbing their heads to it or rolling their car windows up when they hear it.

We have citizens compelled to take out second mortgages on their homes in order to supplement half-assed medical insurance, while non-citizens who can't afford insurance can get treatment in many cases without fear of receiving a collections notice in the mail. We have local municipalities laying off police officers, because they can't afford to continue regular garbage pickup and pay for cops too without raising tax levies so high as to force homeowners to flee. We have a war going on in another country that is costing more than $1 billion a month to run. We have troops fighting that war without adequate equipment or supplies. We have such a level of poverty in this country that maintaining the status quo instead of helping people learn to support themselves has become a government industry. We have a municipal and circuit court system in such disarray that three people of identical age, with identical backgrounds, and identical records, can get arrested and charged with identical offenses at the same time under identical circumstances in separate locations and all face drastically different punishments if convicted. We have public schools in some areas that are asking students to share textbooks, because there aren't enough to go around. We have sanctions in place against countries whose governments made our (poop) list, because they treat their citizens badly, but we trade with China, a country that brought us the greatest weight loss plan ever: getting run over by a tank in Tienanmen Square, and whose next built-for-America toy line will likely include shrink-wrapped rusty nails, bags of broken glass, and the hottest new board game -Bobbing for Used Hypodermic Needles. We can send people into space, and we have billion dollar satellites that can zoom in on a license plate from beyond the stars. And yet, we can't find Osama bin Laden.

And - drum roll, please - we have Congressmen admittedly calling prostitution services and allegedly trawling the ho' stroll for companionship. We have wide-stanced Congressmen accidentally, possibly, maybe trying to solicit sex in public bathrooms. We have Congressmen accepting freezers full of cash from undercover federal agents offering fake bribes. We have Congressmen driving drunk, doing drugs, and engaging in sex talk with minors.

Yes, these Titans of honesty, good sense, and morality are here for you, people. On your behalf they intend to find out where exactly you can find "California love," what exactly "ain't nothin' but a G-thang," how exactly "endo" is smoked, whether there are really "hos in different area codes," exactly what cut Congress gets of the "money on (our) minds," and whether or not "fallin' back on that ass with a hellified gangsta lean" is truly similar to "getting funky on the mīc like an old batch of collard greens."

Your tax dollars at work.