This Is What News Has Come To…


Scribed by Snug McNugg, Ph DDD.


1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. I know this statistic to be painfully true for myself and many other women I've come across in life.

It's not anything to joke about or make fun of. It happens more often than people care to admit.

And that's why I figure I'm probably going to hell for repeating this "Bed Intruder" video so many times.
 



Not only do I feel the eyes of all the bra-burning, protesting feminists who came before me; I also hear the 6pm parlor conversations of my mother and grandmother forever emblazoned in my memory: "Newscasters will find the dumbest fools to interview, won't they?"




After all, the media is supposed to portray what is most prevalent in society; their main purpose is to convey to us what is important-- to sort through the wealth of information and decide for us which issues to think about (Journalism 101). So I can understand there are people upset at the negative portrayal of blacks as these groups of college educated white kids make a parody of this mans plight set to music. I begin to  empathize as I think to myself, "he was so distraught, he barely had time to find his red doo-rag before Katie Couric came and shoved the camera in his face".



Amidst the clever melody I can hear passion and anger in the mans voice as he calls a community to arms: "He climbing in yo windows. He snatchin' yo people up. Tryin' to rape em' so yall need to hide ya kids, hide ya wife. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife. HIDE YA KIDS, HIDE YA WIFE! And hide ya husbands cause they raping everybody out there!"





This was, after all, an actual crime with an actual suspect-- in Huntsville, Alabama, no less. A place where I spent many summers. In theory this could have been my aunt or my cousins suffering.  (BTW, most all of which have dreads now, so don't try to pin this on them; the description of the suspect was " 5"9, 5"10, coffee complexion, low cut like a caesar, wit some lil waves in his head. Clean cut, very smooth face..."

Damn it, there I go nodding to the beat again. Sue me. This shit is catchy.

When the music cuts out, you can almost imagine the vigilant crowd in a Tyler Perry-esque scene with candles and "Stop the Violence" T-shirts clapping in choral chant: "You don't have to come and confess-- we lookin' for you. We gon' find you... WE GON' FIND YOU!"

He had me pumped up for the cause...  Bout ready to walk down the streets with a flashlight lookin' down alleyways, or at least seriously debating illegally downloading the song that was number three on the iTunes chart for R&B singles, last time I checked. Besides, if nothing else it's getting the description of this suspect out. One of the 8 million viewers of the video has to know a guy matching THAT description AND they got his scent and his T-shirt-- "my boy" might as well be caught already. Who's to say we can't enjoy ourselves in the process?

What's a good song anyway, if not a catchy melody coupled with a nice beat? If so-called rappers can sell a choppy verse and chorus about self-proclaimed 'attractive adolescent swag' why can't this grieving family profit from the fifteen minutes of fame (and royalties from the Itunes sales) resulting from this unfortunate event (with the help of a voice box and a trio of dorky white brothers and a random chick)?

Shit, I'm writing a song as we speak about trying to find my broke ass a job so I can finance the re-stocking of my liquor cabinet and auto-tune it to your heart's content. I won't be offended, embarrassed or otherwise upset. As long as I'm getting my percentage of the profits, I'm cool.
 




And you can "run and tell that, run-and-tell-that, RUN-AND-TELL-THAT homeboy! ho-ho-homeboy."


*fades to silence*

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