Of Rap Beefs, Urban Legends, And Thug Revolutionaries

Ever wonder what would happen if a member of the KKK co-wrote a novel about rap beefs with a pseudo-revolutionary that was fixated on black urban legends? What’s that? It sounds like a hot mess that should never see the light of day? Well, that’s too bad because it’s in a bookstore near you right now.

Sadly, I am well aware that more than likely no member of the KKK played a part in the writing of this ode to every ugly stereotype that has ever been trotted out about black people. But in this case it would be nice. The cast of characters includes Jack Lemon, his girlfriend Gina, Damon Dice, Monique, Rasheed, Georgia Mae aka Game, the rapper 40 and an assortment of people that are clearly just there to die. Oh, and a couple of cops that don’t seem to be able to investigate anything properly. In fact Lieutenant Brown is so busy framing black people to help advance his career that he doesn’t actually notice the people he’s framing are already committing crimes. No, it won’t make any more sense if you read the book.

Jack is fresh out of jail (released on a technicality) and angry that Damon Dice’s testimony put him behind bars for murders he did not commit. That should inspire some sympathy on the part of the reader. But then you turn the page and the sympathy runs out. Because Jack is a killer. He’s just not responsible for the deaths of those people. He murdered other people. Lots and lots of other people. And that’s part of a laundry list of crimes he’s committed, but he’s a victim of the system. Really. See, he’s not just a thug, he’s also a revolutionary because he spent his time in prison reading and learning and figuring out new and better ways to justify murder.

And just in case you forget that Jack is a victim of the system the book is peppered with bits of fictionalized history including Jack thinking about an incident in his childhood where he was protected during a police raid on the Black Panthers by Adia Shakur. After saving him by putting him in a metal cabinet Adia manages to survive a shootout with the cops and is living safely on an island despite being wanted by the federal government. Sound familiar? Are you looking at Damon Dice’s name and thinking about a certain rap mogul? Wondering about the rapper 40? Just wait, this thug Mary Sue isn’t done meeting all of his heroes yet.

Now, the one good thing about this book is that the sex scenes are few and far between so you don’t have to suffer through too much of the least erotic writing in the “Urban Lit” genre. But, the tradeoff is extremely graphic descriptions of torture and violence. Lots and lots and lots of violence complete with a detailed description of what an eye looks like once it has left the human body. Because that’s what thug revolutionaries do. They torture their enemies to death as part of their quest to take over a major rap label and start their revolution. Random plot twist? Oh, you have no idea how many of those are in front of you.

See, Jack does have some friends. Namely Rasheed and his girlfriend Monique. Apparently Rasheed was on track to a basketball scholarship at a Big Ten school and maybe a spot in the NBA until he got caught in a car with Jack that had been reported stolen. He wound up with a criminal record and no scholarship. Oh, and somewhere in there Monique (who had a dance scholarship) wound up pregnant and so now they have a baby to raise. Rasheed still winds up playing for a small private school, and he’s hoping to get another shot at the NBA. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything else with his time in college (like getting an actual education), and Monique has completely dropped out of school to support the three of them. She’s working as a stripper at an otherwise white gentleman’s club, and of course she has to fight one of the other dancers in order to be respected. Because the book doesn’t have enough violence. And really, how else to introduce Georgia Mae the token “down” white girl?

Georgia goes by the nickname Game, and she’s got a black girl’s body (no really, I’m quoting) so she’s *totally* invested in black culture. Somehow that’s why (despite having a Ph.D. and a J.D. from Ivy league schools) she’s addicted to drugs and working as a stripper with occasional detours into being a paid Dominatrix. And she really needs Monique to introduce her to a black man. Because she can’t just meet a guy the normal way, no she specifically needs an introduction to someone by Monique. Why is this sub plot going on? I have no idea. And it never does manage to tie in, though eventually it gets semi-resolved. See, despite being Monique’s friend in the beginning of the book Game winds up going after Rasheed once he gets into the NBA. Apparently she betrays her friend because there aren’t many available NBA players and if she’s going to be with a successful black man the only option is an NBA player. Oh, and Rasheed is vulnerable because Monique is on a trip for work (she gets a job modeling for a men’s magazine) and can’t make it back right away to take care of him after he gets injured while playing ball. What does any of this have to do with the main plot? Nothing. These characters are just there to be interspersed with the violent takeover of the rap label, the dirty cop storyline, the random bits of history about the Civil Rights Movement, and possibly to keep the reader from throwing the book across the room after reading about Jack justifying yet another gruesome murder to himself as being necessary for the revolution.

The key to the revolution’s success somehow hinges on ending the East Coast/West Coast rivalry between rappers by getting everyone focused on a charity aimed at aiding black children. Which sounds great, but the black on black violence still hasn’t stopped happening at Jack’s behest. Granted he’s got some help in the form of phony letters being to sent to various rivals dissing them in an effort to start up new beefs. But that plot line just gets dropped without any resolution, presumably this was a nod to COINTELPRO, but who knows? And just in case the rest of the book hasn’t convinced you that this is secretly a message from the KKK encouraging readers to think killing lots of black people is the key to social advancement? Wait until you get to the finale. Despite the fact that Jack is supposed to be all about helping his people advance, this thing reads like he’s killed more people than cancer and it’s a good approach to life. I’m going to spoil the ending and tell you that the epilogue involves him smoking weed with Tupac on that same island where Adia Shakur has taken refuge. This book is dangerous all right. It’s a danger to anyone naive enough to think Jack is a hero. Generally I plan for my reviews to be funny, but there are some things so awful that even gallows humor can’t help.

Final Verdict: Nuke it from orbit.