Nicholas Kristof's Help Thy Neighbor

California devotes $179,400 to keep a juvenile in detention for a year, and spends less than $10,000 per student in its schools.

This statistic lands smack dab in the middle of Nicholas Kristof's latest Sunday column. He elaborates on yet another story of "justice run amok" by sharing the tale of Edward Young, a 43 year old man once convicted of several burglaries as a younger adult. Since his days of pilferage, Young has married, raised four children, and taken a job working six days a week. 

Kristof describes the tragedy:  

Then a neighbor died, and his widow, Neva Mumpower, asked Young to help sell her husband’s belongings. He later found, mixed in among them, seven shotgun shells, and he put them aside so that his children wouldn’t find them.

“He was trying to help me out,” Mumpower told me. “My husband was a pack rat, and I was trying to clear things out.”

Then Young became a suspect in burglaries at storage facilities and vehicles in the area, and the police searched his home and found the forgotten shotgun shells as well as some stolen goods. The United States attorney in Chattanooga prosecuted Young under a federal law that bars ex-felons from possessing guns or ammunition. In this case, under the Armed Career Criminal Act, that meant a 15-year minimum sentence.

...We also have a serious problem with the irresponsibility of mass incarceration. When almost 1 percent of Americans are imprisoned (and a far higher percentage of men of color in low-income neighborhoods), our criminal justice system becomes a cause of family breakdown and contributes to the delinquency of a generation of children. And mass incarceration interacts with other government policies, such as the way the drug war is implemented, to have a disproportionate effect on African-Americans. Black men use marijuana at roughly the same rate as white men but are more than three times as likely to be arrested over it.

 

Interesting note to ask ourselves what exactly we are paying for with that $179,400 price tag.  

What hurts more than being mocked?

 Sasha Frere-Jones' review of Jay-Z's Magna Carta Holy Grail wastes no time in pointing out the hilarity of Jay's echo to Nirvana in the first verse of the opening track:

It’s like Jay Z asked Pandora to produce the record and then left for a meeting.

It's now been over one and a half years since I wrote my senior thesis on hip-hop (which, by the way for anyone still in college, has not been read by anyone since I graduated). The subject of the paper - Demystifying the Corporate Hip Hop and Ethnic Hip Hop Binary - examined the tension between the highly commercialized rap ballads of Jay-Z's repertoire and the more real, often political, themes found in his other works.

The racial profiling scenes elicited in 99 Problems ? Genius. Murder to Excellence , perhaps the most politically charged track on Jay-Z and Kanye West's popular Watch the Throne ? I can't think of a better song equipped with addressing the corporate/political tension in hip hop. In the track, the hip-hop duo dedicate one half of the song to the upper crust of Black society and call on others to strive for what Will Smith, Oprah Winfrey, and yours truly experience in the present today (Now please domino domino/only spot a few blacks the higher I go/What's up Will/shout out to O/that ain't enough we gonna need a million more) . But they only get to this conversation after addressing black on black murder (hence the name of the song) alluding to the friendly fire through an homage to Danroy Henry, a NY college student killed by a policeman in 2012. 

All of these layers are absent in Jay-Z's latest album Magna Carta Holy Grail, which, If you've been following, was pre-released after Samsung's sponsored 1 million copies to be downloaded from a promotional app available only on Samsung phones. 

The full release of Magna Carta emerges at a time when all eyes are on the Trayvon Martin case. An opportunity one would expect Jay to take up back in the days of yore. Jay's tracks, sprinkled with Basquiat references, trips to the MoMA, and of course his daughter Blue, are seemingly void of the responsibility once apparent in Jay's earlier work. Juxtaposed against Kanye West's highly acclaimed Yeezus and the politically charged singles New Slaves and Black Skinheads  and it seems that despite their heavy collaboration just two years ago, the two kings of hip-hop are in two very different stages of their careers. 

Frere-Jones elaborates with an argument I wholly accept: 

But “Yeezus” is a compelling piece of work, and even if West hadn’t made a single beat on the album (he did) it wouldn’t detract from the unity of a cohesive and off-putting piece of work. How off-putting? Enough so that Spinpublished “Sheezus Talks,” where “seven badass female culture critics assess and, well, psychoanalyze Kanye West’s bachelor party.” That is either a testimony to West’s misogyny or his importance, or both. But Jay Z says things that sound infinitely worse on “Magna Carta,” and few even notice. What hurts more than being mocked? Being ignored, which maybe is why you make a deal with a phone company to make sure a million people hear your album whether or not they like it. (This may be what Jay Z means by the “new rules.”) “Magna Carta” feels like Jay Z grasping for the deep-rooted significance that he had for almost a decade straight, and that West has now. 

See here for Frere-Jones full write-up.