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IMAGINE

Imagine if presidents were only allowed to declare war if one of their loved ones had to be at the front.

Imagine if there were a law that stated that for every tank, there had to be a new school and for every war helicopter there had to be a new hospital.

Imagine if every time a rapper screamed the name of his city or borough, they had to make a contribution to a computer literacy program.

Imagine if every Pop Diva that millions of young girls adored and emulated and young men desired had to list all of the cosmetic surgery they’ve had and how much of their bodies are artificial or enhanced.

Imagine if every bragging rapper had to post a financial statement showing how deep in debt they are.

Imagine if every so-called Hip Hop Mogul had to list how they got their money, who financed them and how much and what they owe to that other person.

Imagine if all those booty shaking, scantily clad “ladies” in Rap videos had to disclose their STD results.

Imagine if all those rappers showing off their 50 cars and Olympic sized game rooms had to show where they actually got their money from and how much of their collection of cars and jewelry is actually rented.

Imagine if those macho, he-men rappers, actors and superstar models were outed and it was revealed how many men they had to sleep with to climb the “Star Ladder” and how many of these “Gangsta Ladies Men” were really bi-sexual.

Imagine if all these “Black Leaders” were forced to show how much money they made in the name of their “Brothers” and “Sisters” and how much money they make from lectures and Hip Hop forums in the name of “progressive movements” and “gender related” ssues.

Imagine if rappers did not have to curse to rhyme and all references to the “N-word,” and name clothing, sneakers, liquor and rims were not allowed to be mentioned.

Imagine a rap video without the males acting like fools with mouths full of gold teeth and the women were no longer displayed as disposable and interchangeable objects like razor blades or socks.

Imagine rappers being forced to wear shoes instead of sneakers and chains that cost over a thousand dollars being banned from their videos.

Imagine a video cam being placed in the oval office so we could see all of the loot, deals and lies that went on in our names and the waste of our tax dollars.

Imagine a video cam in central lock up, so we could see the way prisoners are actually treated.

Imagine a law that said that in the richest country in the world, no child or senior citizen would go hungry or need a place to live.

Imagine an investigation into where all the billions of dollars in lottery money that is supposed to go to education is actually going.

Imagine a real war on illegal drugs and how many police, millionaires, politicians and other pillars of the community would be sent to prison of life.

Imagine rappers publicly stating that they not only accept the fact that they are role models, but planned to take that role seriously.

Imagine an investigation into the music video “Pass The Courvosier” and finding out who got paid what do a free liquor commercial in violation of F.C.C. rules and why they chose to make it an ignorant racist anti-Asian video.

Imagine Hip Hop pioneers and legends actually being given the respect and jobs and money they deserve.

Imagine a true Hip Hop magazine.

Imagine magazines that call themselves “Hip Hop ” magazines actually hiring

Hip Hop Photographers and not folks that are ignorant to the culture.

Imagine so called “Hip Hop Radio Stations” actually playing Hip Hop.

Imagine replacing the “N-Word” with the words Brother and Sister and meaning those words and not looking for as paycheck for using those words.

Imagine a real choice for president.

Imagine an “Activist” or so called “Leader” that did not want to line his pockets and get the blessing of the media or who was not a “media whore” or who did not crave the spotlight and fat checks to lecture and speak out against injustice.

Imagine a political party that was really “for the people”.

Imagine young people loving music, because they loved the beats and lyrics and not because they were bombarded with the video and endless, countless radio plays.

Imagine a magazine that allowed young independent people to rate new albums and not the cowardly, paid, jaded, shallow folks trying to hold onto their jobs and get a toe into the music industry.

All content is the opinion of the author Ernie Paniicioli

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