President Barack Obama’s celebrity backers simply refuse to pin any blame on him for a woeful economy or the litany of broken promises that have become the hallmark of his nearly three years in office.

Consider 50 Cent’s response when asked by the uber-low rated Piers Morgan about the president’s tenure in the White House:

“I think he inherited America in a terrible state and it’s pretty tough to get things right back into order.”

The bullet riddled rapper initially backed someone other than Obama during the 2008 presidential race, but not due to any conflicts with Obama or his campaign:

“I was a supporter of Hillary because I wasn’t sure if America was ready for an African-American president. I didn’t know what was going to happen in the process, because it could have been a mess.”

Gilbert Gottfried isn’t the only celeb “joking” about Japan’s unthinkable tragedy.  Rapper 50 Cent:

“Wave will hit 8am them crazy white boys gonna try to go surfing,” the rapper wrote Friday morning, as the West Coast braced for a potential tsunami.

He followed it up with, “Look this is very serious people I had to evacuate all my hoess from LA, Hawaii and Japan. I had to do it. Lol.”

“Family Guy” writer/Producer Alec Sulkin (who later apologized):

“If you wanna feel better about this earthquake in Japan, google ‘Pearl Harbor death toll’,” he tweeted over the weekend.

From The Street we learn comedian Gilbert Gottfried has been fired by Aflac for his “jokes”:

Gilbert Gottfried was fired by Aflac on Monday after the comedian made a number of distasteful jokes about the devastation in Japan.

“Japan is really advanced,” Gottfried tweeted on Monday afternoon, “They don’t go to the beach. The beach comes to them.”

Aflac quickly cut ties with the comedian following a string of similar comments. 

Hollywood Reporter has more:

Aflac, which does 75 percent of its business in Japan, also plans to donate $100 million to disaster relief.

Gottfried has yet to apologize for the jokes, which included: “I just split up with my girlfriend, but like the Japanese say, ‘They’ll be another one floating by any minute now.’”

Free country. Free to mock. Free to terminate employment. Free to wonder how anyone could see or look for or attempt to mine humor and attention from the relentlessly heartbreaking images broadcast over the weekend.

6.  “Being exploited is different from being empowered ” – Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

Often too-easily dismissed as a raunchy teen sex comedy, Fast Time was a tremendously influential and important mirror on young America in the early 1980s.  The fact that it is gut-bustlingly funny – Sean Penn’s turn as surfer/stoner Jeff Spicoli remains his only role where he doesn’t annoy me – seems to overshadow the serious undercurrents, as does the ample nudity culminating in the unforgettable swimming pool scene starring the glorious Phoebe Cates.

—–

However, there is a very, very dark undercurrent to this movie that provides a serious lesson to young people.  Jennifer Jason-Leigh’s Stacy is a pretty but not-so-bright 15/16 year old who does not understand the difference between love and sex.  In a world of absolutely no parents (not a single one is ever seen), she tries to find love (or at least attention) by basically trying to have tacky sex with every guy she meets – and it’s heartbreaking.  She’s not “empowered” – she’s used.  The ugly scene where she loses her virginity to a guy in his 20s in a Little League dug-out staring at graffiti reading “Surf Nazis Must Die” is a better repudiation of the “hook-up” culture than a hundred lectures.

After scaring off the one guy who actually likes her for herself by trying to bed him too, she seeks comfort underneath his skanky pal.  A grim, humiliating encounter in a pool house leaves her pregnant and she immediately seeks an abortion.  Regardless of one’s stand on the life issue, one cannot be anything other than horrified at how the fact she sees herself as literally nothing but a mere receptacle leads her to feel nothing at all about her decision.

But there is hope.  The film ends with her finally back with the boy who actually loves her, and a final title card assures us that they remain together and “still haven’t gone all the way yet.”

7.   “You make your destiny” — The Pursuit of Happyness (2006)

Liberal filmmakers would have you believe that you are nothing but a victim of forces you cannot control, and that without their help you have no future.  That is especially true for minorities, who liberal ideology requires be told again and again that without the help of their liberal masters they can never succeed.  But, of course, liberalism never leads to success, only to a few more scraps in the form of entitlements offered in exchange for perpetual ballot box fealty to the elite overlords.

The Pursuit of Happyness drives a Mac truck through that loser paradigm.  Will Smith is the lead in the true story of a man who hits bottom but simply will not quit.  Believing in himself, working his butt off, taking risks and – shock! – out-performing the competition, he goes from homeless to capitalist success story.

He doesn’t look for handouts.  He doesn’t sit back waiting for his the liberal overlords to decide what he gets.  He embraces the challenge of the free market and through sheer dedication makes himself a winner.  He makes his own destiny; he doesn’t wait to be told what it can or will be.

As such, Pursuit may well be the one of the most subversive films of the last decade.

8.  “Character is what you do when the stakes are the highest” – Bolt (2008)

This terrific Disney cartoon about a TV star dog who thought he was the superhero he plays on television then finds himself separated from the little girl who owns him makes a huge point about character.  It comes up most clearly at the end, where his little girl is trapped on a burning soundstage.  The dog who had replaced Bolt runs away, leaving her in the fire.  But Bolt, though he now knows he is just a normal hound, goes back in anyway.

Character isn’t something that you wear like a medal.  It’s what you do when the chips are down, when all hell is breaking lose, when everyone else is running away.

The message of Bolt is a powerful statement that is especially applicable to young people.  My little girl saw Bolt as a good dog who would not leave his girl behind and understood why that mattered; her dad thought of his own heroes who would not leave those they swore to protect no matter what the cost.

And when young people are a little older, they’ll be ready for the similar messages of Black Hawk Down – “It’s what you do right now that makes a difference” and “Leave no man behind.”  (BHD also teaches the vital lesson that there is no substitute for the firepower of heavy armor and artillery.)  But Bolt is a great foundation  for learning about character – as well as a great movie.

9.  “The west is worth defending” – 300 (2006)

If you enjoy lame liberal flicks that spend most of their time apologizing for our Western culture, you’ll probably want to miss 300.  I’m sure there will be plenty of seats available for the revival of Lions for Lambs down at the Nuart.

But if you unapologetically support the victory of the West in our current war against jihadi barbarism and its related pathologies, you might dig 300.  It makes no excuses about the superiority of our culture and our freedoms, which is why liberals hate it.

300 is the highly stylized story of the small Spartan contingent that fought a legendary delaying action at a narrow pass called Thermopylae in northern Greece that allowed the rest of the Greeks to prepare to meet the Persian horde and their self-styled demigod king. They were slaughtered to a man, but succeeded in their mission.

The beauty of 300 is the fearlessness with which the filmmakers tell the truth – though it is unclear if they intended to make that statement, make it they do.  While imperfect, the Greeks as portrayed in the film embody the Western values of individual freedom while the Persian hordes are mere faceless slaves.  The Greeks stand and fight because they are free men who choose to do so; the Persian soldiers fight with whips at their backs, mere cannon fodder for a tyrant’s ambition.

Nothing has changed in the last couple thousand years.

It’s almost shocking to see a major Hollywood film make clear that our way of life is unequivocally worth defending, and death in battle against tyranny is infinitely preferable to “life” as a slave.  When folks get all wrapped up about “creeping sharia” I usually mention that it doesn’t worry us American soldiers because we would never be alive to see it happen; we’d all be lying dead surrounded by empty magazines, spent shell casings, and the bodies of our enemies.  If you don’t understand that perspective, you might want to skip 300.  You might also want try and see if your doctor can help you out with a spine transplant.

10.  “Your personal happiness is not the most important thing in the world” – Casablanca (1942)

Besides being arguably the greatest movie ever made, Casablanca also teaches one of conservatism’s most important lessons.  The usual Hollywood pap tells you that your personal short term desires are your only guide; just look at the unspeakable moral disaster that is The English Patient.  While conservatism is about individual liberty, with liberty comes the responsibility to occasionally put your own needs aside when duty calls.

Hollywood’s moral compass was not always broken.  In Casablanca, Rick throws away his chance for happiness with Ilsa in order to help defeat the Nazis.  Watch this classic scene – probably Hollywood’s finest hour both artistically and morally:

Here’s the key quote.  Try imagining it coming out of the word processor of one of the pampered, over-paid Ivy League twerps churning out scripts today:

Rick:  We’ll always have Paris. We didn’t have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa:  When I said I would never leave you.
Rick:  And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of. Ilsa, I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you’ll understand that.

Let’s assume there is still a director out there who would allow that many lines of dialogue in a row without a shaky camera jump cut.  Even then, we’d still get Victor Laszlo as an uptight, probably Christian, creep with the unreasonable expectation that his wife not start banging another man just because she finds him sexy.  Instead of sending her away, Rick would probably tell off Mr. Jesus J. Stickuphisrear, then he and Ilsa would jump on the plane together.  Let other people deal with the Nazis – inconveniences like honor and duty just get in the way of validating one’s own feelings!  Plus, they’d probably cast Ashton Kutcher as Rick and Katherine Heigl as Ilsa.  And switch the location to Vegas.  And change the Nazis into CIA agents.  And make Sam into a streetwise hustler played by 50 Cent, who could also do a hip-hop version of As Time Goes By that somehow incorporates the phrase “my bitches.”

No, the fact is that sometimes your problems don’t amount to a hill of beans, that you have to make hard choices and do the right thing even where – gasp! – it might make you feel bad.  Casablanca is easy to take because of great actors, a great script, and a great story, but its message is strong medicine.  And, as we enter a second decade of (open) warfare for our civilization’s survival, it could not be timelier.

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Again, this list is by no means complete, but it is evidence that within our popular culture there is the capacity for art to make powerful conservative statements.  After all, that is the whole point of Big Hollywood.  We cannot just leave our culture to the left – we know where that leads.  Instead, we need to identify and support positive popular culture, to demand it instead of accepting whatever crap the Hollywood elite tries to force down our throats.  And we need to fight back by calling out and mocking mercilessly the lefty nonsense offered to us by the Hollywoodoids, so coming soon:  “The Top 10 Idiotic Leftist Movie Messages.”

And it turns out that, try as I might, I cannot present a list of vital movies messages without citing Heat.  So here’s on key one that’s helped guide me in my daily life:  “It always helps to use intensive, controlled automatic weapons fire, along with rapid maneuver, to defeat your enemies.”  That’s truly a message we can all relate to.

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And many conservatives have.  Many of us have thrown our hands in the air and opted out of popular culture completely, exhausted from enduring liberal sucker punches buried within crummy flicks about magic robots battling Dick Cheney vampire clones that we pay $12.50 to see in theaters maintained at the hygiene level of your average bus station men’s room.  You can hardly blame them for giving up.

But as tempting as it is to withdraw from the battlefield, to dig in and hope it somehow changes, surrender was never an option.  This is our culture, not theirs.  And they don’t get to control it. 

The fact is that among the detritus of American popular culture, there are voices of sanity.  Sure, they are nearly drowned out by over-praised hacks like Aaron Sorkin and over-indulged clowns like Oliver Stone.  Yet, occasionally, Hollywood has allowed positive, conservative messages to slip through.

Sure, some of them are from long ago, but we have never forgotten them.  In fact, we have embraced them and treasured them, a powerful demonstration of the fact that good commonsense messages can also be commercially viable.  Some of them are more recent as well, teachers of vital lessons that somehow the guard dogs of liberal culture missed.

The following list is by no means complete – the commenters will no doubt offer hordes of other worthies between their observations about how I am insane and/or stupid.  It is simply these ten solid conservative messages that I have found particularly meaningful – however, please note that Heat has earned emeritus status and is not found on the list.

So, in no particular order:

1.  “Evil must be confronted and defeated” – Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

This magnificent three-part epic illustrates several great conservative lessons through the tale of Frodo, a gentle hobbit who finds himself the only hope for the world of free peoples as a wicked tyranny arises.  The various nations and races of free creatures are disorganized and confused, with some thinking they can simply hide or wait out the terror.  But J.R.R. Tolkien, who fought in the miserable trenches of the First World War and later watched the rise of Hitler, understood that there is no sanctuary from aggressive evil.  His characters, at a terrible cost, choose to march out and meet the enemy.

Of particular note is the frivolous, care-free land from which Frodo hails, the Shire, a green and pleasant realm that considers itself far from danger and immune to evil.  But, as blogger Kellie Jane Adan recently discussed, Frodo had the wisdom to see what his happy countrymen could not or would not – that the enemies of freedom will not just go away if you ignore them.  Even those who get eaten last still get eaten in the end.  The peril of freedom is that it can lead a people to forget that it comes with a price tag, and that the price is sometimes payable in blood.

It does not take a genius to see the parallels between The Lord of the Rings and the real world of Tolkien’s time, nor the parallels to our world of today.  The jihadi movement and the rogue crime syndicates masquerading as nations such as Iran, North Korea, and Venezuela make no secret of their intentions.  Still, the Western elites remain willfully blind, looking inward and caring only about their own petty personal interests.  The Lord of the Rings is a powerful rejoinder to that foolishness, and one every parent should ensure their children see and understand.

2.   “Leaders lead by example” — We Were Soldiers (2002)

America’s bookstores are filled with tedious management tomes written by college professors and CEOs, but while many of their books’ titles contain the word “Leadership,” comparing their tepid version of management to true leadership is like comparing Justin Bieber to AC/DC in terms of rocking.  If you want to learn something about what leaders do – and can put aside Mel Gibson’s personal character failures – pop in a DVD of We Were Soldiers.

A bloody and harrowing account of the ferocious 1965 Battle of Ia Drang, Gibson’s (then) Lieutenant Colonel Hal Moore is the quintessential United States Army officer, the first off the chopper during the air assault and always in the thick of the fight.

Watch as Gibson surveys and assesses the situation, makes his tough decision to call in dangerous close-in air support, and then joins in the fight alongside his troopers.  Playing a cavalry battalion commander – a job I held, though not while deployed – Gibson is everywhere on the battlefield, encouraging his men, controlling the fight and most importantly (when all hell breaks loose) staying calm.

And it’s an accurate portrayal, not only because the battle tracks the fight depicted in Lieutenant General (Retired) Moore’s superb book.  I actually saw LTG Moore speak at Fort Benning during my Infantry Officer Advanced Course in 1994.  Gibson may be a creep in his personal life, but he did LTG Moore right in the film.  And do not forget Sam Elliot’s awesome portrayal of Command Sergeant Major Basil Plumley – a commander is only as good as his NCOs.

We Were Soldiers demonstrates that a leader isn’t some guy at a desk at the other end of a phone line filling out paperwork.  Leaders lead.  Period.

3.  “The only colors that matter in America are red, white, and blue” – Glory (1989)

Liberals talk a good game about diversity.  But more than any other institution in America, the military lives it.  Once again, We Were Soldiers sums that up:

But that was not always true.  During the Civil War, freed blacks had to fight for their right to fight.  Glory tells the story of those incredible America soldiers and the white officers appointed to lead them.  The conservative lesson is clear – nonsense like color makes no difference; character is everything.  The 54^th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry proved its bravery in battle, not thanks to some quota or by some special dispensation by liberals who deep down think no one else can prosper without their help.  They did it themselves:

Colonel Shaw, the white commander of the 54^th was killed during the storming of Fort Wagner.  According to legend, the Confederates refused to return his body, instead burying him with his black troops.  They thought it was an insult.  In fact, there could be no higher honor for an American officer.

Glory teaches the essential conservative truth that honor, courage, and patriotism are not the province of any one race.  Now, it’s entirely possible that the makers of Glory, like the makers of some of these other films, did not think they were sending a conservative message at all.  If so, they are wrong.  Race means nothing to conservatives, but it means everything to liberals.

Keep in mind that liberals customarily assign any wrongdoing in the past to “conservatives,” as if today’s Tea Party would re-impose child labor and slavery if it had its Neanderthal druthers.  Don’t buy that nonsense.  The next time some liberal starts yapping about racism, just ask him which party, in 2010, hailed as an “icon” a KKK Kleagle and Exalted Cyclops, one who incidentally wrote these hideous words:

I shall never fight in the armed forces with a Negro by my side…Rather I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again, than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels, a throwback to the blackest specimen from the wilds.

Hint:  Senator Icon was not a Republican (or a soldier, for that matter).

4.  “You are the check on the power of the state” — Twelve Angry Men (1957)

Set inside a jury room during a murder deliberation, a dozen jurors (played by a who’s who of great old-time stars and character actors) start off eager to convict the young defendant and go home.  However, Henry Fonda refuses to be railroaded and forces the others to confront their apathy, personal issues, and racial prejudices.

Another movie that probably thinks it is liberal, Twelve Angry Men appears to believe it is an indictment of pure prejudice.  However, what it really is is a conservative critique of the power of the state and what happens when citizens allow their own interests and biases to cause them to abdicate their responsibility to doubt their government and challenge it.

If the defendant is convicted, he will be executed – there is no greater example of the power of the state.  But as these citizens pick at the government’s case they find flaws and inconsistencies.  The government is not perfect or omniscient – far from it.  The state is as flawed as human beings themselves, and the answer is not to meekly submit to its power but to stand up to it, to limit its powers and to make it justify every exercise of authority.  That’s not anarchy or “hatred of government,” as liberals label any attempt by conservatives to rein in the leviathan – rather, that is the conservative notion that a government of men will be as imperfect as man itself.  Every citizen has an absolute duty to ensure it never slips out of control – even where he’s outnumbered by 11-1 by those who find it easier to conform.

5.  “True capitalists make America great” – It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)

Brought to the screen just a few years after the Depression ended, IAWL is not an indictment of free enterprise but, rather, a celebration of it.  Some quarter-wit progressives – yeah, I’m looking at you again Aaron Sorkin – think this classic Frank Capra slice of Americana makes Old Man Potter into a capitalist poster child.  More nonsense.  The track record of the policies progressives espouse being unblemished with anything like success, their opinions about this and everything else should be summarily disregarded.

In fact, Potter is only a “capitalist” in the way that Chrysler, General Motors, and AIG are “capitalist” enterprises – he’s the face of a conglomerate tied in with the government (remember how he offers to send the police over to “help” during the panic?) and with other big businesses (remember how he takes over the town bank?).  He is the power structure; the form he takes is “capitalist” only when it suits him.

Potter is not merely about money but about control over others and their lives – and like the liberals we deal with today (including the ones who make most movies), he has nothing but contempt for regular people. Throw in the word “transfats” or “guns” and Potter might as well be zillionaire Michael Bloomberg decrying the refusal of the masses to conform to his personal vision of how they ought to live their lives.

If alive today, Potter would find himself welcomed to the table with his liberal Democratic co-believers, pausing from making more mischief only to welcome their newest lobbyist, former Senator Chris Dodd.

Jimmy Stewart’s George Bailey is the true capitalist, working hard at the Building & Loan his father started not only to support himself and his family but to help his community.  He doesn’t ask for (or give) handouts.  His pride comes not from making money (though he apparently does okay, which is cool) but by being the guy responsible for helping so many hardworking Americans earn homes. That’s not unusual – when I talk about my business, I talk not about my AGI but about how many people I employ.  In fact, the whole point of the movie is that Bedford Falls is a better place because of George Bailey – and, by extension, the country is better because of similar true capitalists.

IAWL is a warning about how self-styled elitists will use every lever of power at their disposal – big business, big government, or whatever – in order to control the lives of others.  Old Man Potter no more represents capitalism than Aaron Sorkin represents sobriety.  As IAWL teaches, we need to be on our guard and in the faces of these creepy petty fascists every single minute of every day.

Stay tuned for Part II.

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As the movie begins, the audience is introduced to “White Mike,” played by Chace Crawford (“Gossip Girl”). Mike is a drug dealer who doesn’t use drugs. He’s smart enough not to take the drugs that he openly peddles to privileged but disillusioned New York teenagers looking for a good time during their break from school.

Near the beginning of the film and unbeknownst to Mike, his cousin Charlie is killed by a drug dealer named Lionel (Curtis Jackson, a.k.a. 50 Cent).  Lionel is Mike’s drug dealer who provides him with the merchandise that he sells to his teenage customers. Alongside other drugs, Lionel has also recently started  selling “twelve,” the newest drug on the market.

The movie takes place during a couple of days in New York leading up to a birthday party. During those days, Mike is trying to locate his missing cousin while some of his customers are more concerned with throwing an “awesome” party. Chris, played by Rory Culkin, will be hosting the party in order to curry favor with Sara, the pretty girl he likes. Sara is using Chris, as she uses many different guys, because she wants to become fabulously famous and this party will help her establish her “reputation.” In addition to these characters, there are many others including a teenager falsely accused of murder, a young man who recently quit his rehab program and a young girl who becomes quickly addicted to twelve and is willing to do anything to get more of it.

Unfortunately, one of the film’s problems is its huge cast.  There are a lot of minor players who only have a few minutes of screen time but little purpose. After the movie ended, I watched the credits roll and realized how many different characters should have been edited out.

The strongest and most relatable character is “White Mike,” a smart young man who is still grieving the death of his mother (it should be noted that some of the scenes of him mourning are particularly well-done with the use of a plain white backdrop). Mike isn’t as disillusioned as the people who buy drugs from him but he is adrift in his own life. Chace Crawford does a good job even though some of the material isn’t as good as it could have been. Unfortunately, none of the other characters are as well-developed and it is hard to become interested in them (although Culkin does a solid  job).

One of the other major problems is that it all seems manufactured for its dramatic and unrealistic climax. Everything that happens at the party and much of the lead up feels unreal. For instance, one of Mike’s friends who attends the party wasn’t originally invited. Earlier, in a strange coincidence that only happens in movies like this, one of Mike’s other friends had seen her at a coffee shop and just happened to ask her to come. A lot of things, especially in the party scenes,  just happen for the sake of the plot.

I’m sure an interesting movie could be made about someone like “White Mike,” but “Twelve” isn’t that film.

Back in the eighties – when popular music reached its pinnacle of achievement - I would be home from college, in my room, cranking cool tunes and my father would get home from work, peer in, scrunch up his face and ask how I could listen to that infernal racket.  The answer, of course, was that I had (and still have, dammit) really awesome taste in music.

–

I actually pitied my Dad for being unable to appreciate the Midwestern-inflected post-punk glory of The Replacements, or the sonic frenzy of their Minneapolis brothers-in-noise Husker Du, or the soaring, roaring guitar heroics of The Clash.  I don’t know what music he actually liked.  There were some LPs lying around the house – kids, you can ask your parents what those are – but they were things like the Kingston Trio and the Sound of Music soundtrack.  This last one was a particular sore point for me since my mom got the idea to name me Kurt, which is the German equivalent of Melvin, from the little Von Trapp twerp who sang “Fa.”

And now I find myself in a similar position to where Dad found himself a quarter century ago – hating, well, pretty much everything in the world of popular music and having it hate me right back.  Like my Dad, popular culture wrote me off well before I hit 40.  There is, however, an important difference between Dad and me, as well as between the younger generation and me.  My Dad was, and young people are, completely and utterly wrong about music, and I am unequivocally right.

Let’s review some of the popular music of today.  A group called the Black-Eyed Peas is kind of popular.  The woman in the group is named Fergie and she looks like she could take me in a cage match.  Their music is a kind of dance-chant mish-mash of various musical styles – all bad – combined with a visual sense that makes me wonder “Do you people look like that on purpose?” I have no clue what the hell they are singing about. I’m just pretty sure it’s not particle physics.

There are a whole bunch of rappers out there.  I know some of their names:  Jay-Z, 50 Cent and Flo Rida, who is apparently unaffiliated with the State of Florida.  They’re all badass gang-bangers.  Just ask them.  Oh, and they also sing, which seems to be an afterthought. 

There is someone named Lady Ga Ga.  She looks and dresses like a she-male George Jetson, which I mean in the kindest possible way.  She sings a song called Poker Face that does not seem to be about Texas Hold ‘Em, or anything else that I can discern.  It’s a really bad song.  After I pointed out that even I wouldn’t inflict it on a Guantanamo inmate, one of her fans countered that her hit “is really catchy.”  Yeah – so’s herpes, and I don’t want anything to do with that either.

Let’s be clear – I do not hate popular culture.  I like it.  I grew up marinating in it, and I even paid for a car using my experience to write TV trivia questions and jokes for that old pre-Internet computerized quiz game they used to have in bars back in the 90’s.  And when we would assemble the right wing newspaper at UC San Diego, I would play The Ramones really loud to annoy both the sullen Trotskyites lurking about as well as the dorky conservatives who thought you couldn’t be down with Reagan unless you wore a suit and tie to class.  Hell, most mornings in college I was lucky to just find my pants.

And I do like some recent good popular songs – Mr. Brightside by The Killers thoroughly and completely rocks, and U2 rose above their morass of suck with Beautiful Day.  And… well, I guess that’s about it.  That’s all the music I like since 2000.

It’s not just music that wrote me off at 40.  I also hate the movies hip young people seem to adore.  Remember how everyone loved Superbad?  Not me.  I like my comedies funny.  And remember how everyone thought Lost In Translation was so profoundly moving?  Well, I like my dramas unfunny – though it gets props for including the Jesus and Mary Chain’s Just Like Honey on the soundtrack.

 Perhaps it’s just time to accept that at age 44, ones’ views and opinions have absolutely no value or resonance within popular culture, despite their manifest correctness.  But I’m not going to do that.  I’m going to keep pointing out to misguided young people that everything they hold dear is wrong.  Because I’ve earned that right.  Because I’m older.  Because I am my Dad.

And now I have to go turn the hose on some kids who are playing on my lawn.

I look at Big Hollywood as a Seeker site. We are here to attract people questioning their politics, and welcome them into the philosophy we call Conservatism. We want to be a political home for those strays: people who are uncomfortable with all the flags and Greek columns that the Left has recently embraced. We want to support the new stars of Hollywood, those who have suddenly found themselves in a tax bracket they never thought they could reach, and are suddenly questioning the injustice of a progressive tax code. We want to comfort those who have grown tired of being called a racist for simply questioning the wisdom of putting a community organizer into the most powerful office on earth.

Let’s assume you are right. Let’s assume rap is awful, and nihilist and destructive to the African American community So for the sake of argument, I agree with you. Rap IS crap. Now what? Exactly what is the role of a political party now that we have such information? Do we work with the FCC to keep it off the air? Do we boycott stores that sell it? Do we file class action lawsuits against the producers of rap, on behalf of the ruined urban communities? Do we prosecute rappers for conspiring to crimes? Do we BAN it?

You see, that is the problem. All these tactics are different levels of censorship; something we, as sworn guardians of the inalienable rights of man, are supposed to abhor. There is no political solution to rap. Taking on popular music, marginalizes ourselves further from the mainstream. There should be a corner of  our tent where rappers feel welcome.

If you had to create a list of reasons why people in Hollywood do not like Republicans, I’m fairly certain that right near the top would be a fear that Republicans want to censor art. There’s a rumor on the Left we are intolerant and want to muzzle free speech. The ironic truth, is the Left is far more active towards political censorship, with their speech codes on college campuses and support of the fairness doctrine. But as far as art, the Left is pretty tolerant.

It is that atmosphere of artistic freedom that finds most artists at home under their tent. And as long as we appear hostile to art, that is never going to change.

And don’t try and tell me that rap is not art.  The passions that have been wakened on either side of the argument here, are ample evidence that there is something about the form, that stirs quite a bit of emotion-which is nearly a textbook definition of art.

50 Cent had conservative leanings,. He thought Kanye went too hard on President Bush and is an admitted capitalist. Now there is some serious common ground.

[Ed. Note: previous posts on this subject below]:

Ben Shapiro: Rap is Crap

Tim Slagle: Response to Ben Shapiro’s ‘Rap is Crap’

Ben Shapiro: Response To Tim Slagle’s Response To ‘Rap is Crap’

Michael Wilson: My Contribution to the In-Fighting: Rap Isn’t Crap

I am not a huge fan of rap music. It is not the top rack choice on my iPod, and yet, I can appreciate its contribution to music and pop culture. Very few of the top 40 songs today don’t have at least a small rap section in bridge of the song.  It has now been over thirty years since rap made the leap from the inner city streets to the top of the pop charts, so it’s not going away anytime soon.

All of Ben’s complaints were once said about rock and roll: lack of melody and harmony, overemphasis on rhythm, vulgar, overly sexual lyrics… Rock and roll was also called a corrupter of youth and predictions of it’s quick demise abounded. There were record burnings and organized protests against this Satan music, and today, footage of these protests are viewed comedically. Do we really want this stigma attached to Republicans any longer?  Are we tired of being the punchline yet?

And it doesn’t matter if the stars of rap are bad influences on children. Please. What pop star has EVER been a good influence on children? Most of them are drug addicts with dysfunctional relationships, regardless of what kinds of music they play.  I know there have been a few decent people, but they are the rare exceptions. Pop stars are paid enormous amounts of cash to be over-grown children, but that should have no bearing on their art.  The criminal antics of rap musicians speak no more about the destructive nature of the music than the conduct of Boy George or George Michael reflect on eighties pop.

Yes, rap is crude, vulgar, violent, makes reference to drug use, and is demeaning to women, but so is ‘South Park,’ and very few conservatives are willing to take a stand against ‘South Park.’  Why are we so willing to accept the bad stuff in a cartoon, but rail against it in rap music? (I think we are opening ourselves for accusations of racism if we don’t accept both.)

You might not like rap music. I don’t blame you.  I had to force myself to listen to it before I was able to appreciate it.  But it wasn’t meant for old men like me–it is written for younger generations.

Every generation in modern history has been able to find a type of music that makes the older people cringe. In part, that is why they like it so much.  Someone once said the best way to keep your kids from listening to rap is to start listening to it yourself. Drive around your hood with the windows down and Fifty Cent thumping out of the mini van and your kids will soon avoid it like the plague.

Eventually that’s what happens to every form of pop music: it mainstreams, and the next generation is forced to find something new and toxic. The Beatles started as radicals but eventually were covered by Lawrence Welk. Just the other day I was on an elevator in Downtown Chicago and it started playing an instrumental version of “Smells like Teen Spirit” over the loudspeaker. I thought it was cool, but listening to it like that for the first time, I felt really old. And I could tell the thirty-five-year-old girl next to me with the faded tattoos underneath her business suit did too. I actually think she started to tear up a little.

Instead of becoming this generation’s up tight pantywaists, we should be looking for common ground between the rap culture and ourselves. Isn’t that kind of what Big Hollywood originally set out to do: find common ground between conservatives and pop culture?  Because, I think there is a lot of common ground. After all, we both have a fascination with guns and a distrust of government.

And we both get a big kick out of making politically incorrect jokes. For the most part, rap lyrics are intended to be funny. And when you become incensed, you’re letting on that you didn’t get the joke.

Don’t do that. It makes us ALL look bad.