Trump the Lyricist

Subpar mediocrity has been on the rise recently. It would seem that the floodgates have opened up – foresting… rather, forcing a deluge upon the world that the majority of us seem surprisingly cool with accepting. The worldwide water boarding of which I speak is most evident in the two streams of consciousness presently flowing in politics and Hip-Hop. Each arena has lowered the bar for who currently represents the best each landscape has to offer as the highest political office in the land has been infiltrated by the same mediocrity that has betrayed Hip-Hop music. I’m talking about President Donald Trump and the presiding dominance of mumble rap in what’s being called Hip-Hop today.

By and large, I’ve given up on both. By “given up” I mean that I do not listen to either. The disgust that boils up within me is bad for my health so when I hear the childish tone of Trump begin to speak or the monotone drone of the same bassline that accompanies EVERY mumble rappers’ flow, I just tune out. The thing that bewilders me the most is how anyone else with two functioning ears and a brain can listen to Trump or mumble rap and justify them as legitimate representations of their respective industries. Far from presidential, Trump’s “un-presidented” presence on Twitter has provided a catalog of grammatical blunders so grand, I heard Paul McCartney is trying to own the masters. Meanwhile, on the flip side of the spectrum, though I doubt anyone is clamoring to own any of Hip-Hop’s mumbling masters (facetiously or fictitiously), there is a surprising amount of support and center stages given to the degenerate lyricist that is the mumble rapper.

Now I know that’s a pretty hard stance to take but coming up in the era of Talib Kweli, Mos Def (a.k.a. Yasiin Bey), Big Pun, Big Daddy Kane, and Kool G Rap, what these present day rappers are spittin’ is far from lyrical. Yet they’re as numerous as Trump’s witless, twittering tweets – rife with grammatical gaffes that even my seven year old daughter is capable of avoiding as she’s learning to master the English language. Yet and still, when Trump came to office and mumble rap began to take front stage, I wasn’t too concerned. I believed that time would reveal the ignorance of these individuals and that those who chose to support them with votes and record sales would come to realize the error of their ways. Yes -- it would only be a matter of time before an aggregation of broken syllables and incoherent language would cause enough agitated aggravation to have these clowns bounced out of the big house and onto the street. Yet… I waited… and waited… and waited.

In fact, the detractors that I thought would come out in droves were vastly outnumbered by those who dug in their heels and rallied behind Trump and mumble rap even more. Baffled, I simply did what I often do – I focused my writing, speaking and energy elsewhere as I chose to bury the questions I had about how these people where managing to thrive despite (if not BECAUSE of) their mediocrity. Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. What hit me, you ask? The explanation that had alluded me since the first time I said “WHAT?!!” while listening to Trump’s projected win over Hillary Clinton or a millennial’s deference to mumble rap over Black Thought’s 10-minute freestyle.

Trump and mumble rap supporters are in love with the mediocre effort that has yielded meteoric heights for these esteem-less buffoons. Their meaningless sentences are a source of encouragement for all the ne’er-do-wells of our society. The ones who want the prestige without seeing the need to press in. The ones who crave the talisman but lack the drive to own/hone the talent. For the better part of the last two centuries, America has been viewed as the land of opportunity. A place where you can start with nothing but WORK to get something. While this has greatly encouraged scores of people, there was a population who felt counted out. There was a swelling of people with a poisoned sense of entitlement that began to feel empowered within the microwave generation that sought out instant gratification over hard-earned success. These are the ones who would rather redact the word WORK from the former sentence:

“A place where you can start with nothing but ____ get something.”

Though the work ethic of most people still shunned such a notion, much like the racism in this country, it merely went underground and grew silently – waiting for an opportunity to manifest. And when it did… there was an entire generation waiting to embrace the rising stars of this movement. An entire generation ready to cheer on Trump and mumble rap louder with each word they slur without saying… a mumbling word.

I’m convinced now that if he wanted to, Trump could be the next great rapper of our generation. He has the braggadocio and ego to pull it off. All he needs is the right name and motto which I’ve already provided as the title for this article: Trump the Lyricist.

INK WELL SPOKEN “Empowering Your PURPOSE with the POWER of Words” ™

#mumblerap #mumblerappers #trumptweets #trump #hiphop