My alma mater was a bastion of all things P.C., womyn-centric, anti-hegemonic, vegan and gluten-free, the sort of place where leaving the cafeteria you'd have to step over the protesters dressed like Native Americans lying prostrate covered in fake blood and then wind your way through thirty girls and gay dudes doing free-movement improvisation on the lawn. Maybe we were burnt out on Naomi Wolf, or maybe college girls are college girls are college girls, but at night we'd all put our politics aside and drunkenly sing along to the most misogynistic lyrics hip hop has to offer. When I was 16, "Ain't No Fun" enraged me; today I absentmindedly mouth the words while I'm doing work. I'm essentially inured to the sexist aspect and all of its ramifications, which is why it's so weird that while listening to good ol' Brand Nubian the other day I found myself bristling at what Grand Puba was saying. He sits on a high horse in general, sure (see: "All for One" etc.), but how many songs do you really need taking women to task for sluttin it up?Many, the answer is many songs. When Devin the Dude says "You can give me some head but keep your breakfast in bed/ I'd rather spend my morning diggin through some records instead" I'm like cool, thanks for laying it out. But Sadat's all "Your pussy can't see these lips, I keep my tongue in my mouth/cause I can't see down South," and I'm sorry but it seems like you hate women. It's akin to the whole, give me a douchey open-book fratboy over a spindly art-fag who claims he's a feminist because: Red Flag, you know? I'm always gonna bump Brand Nu though. I can't resist an Edie Brickell sample, much less a Groove Theory sample I mean that's just scientific fact.
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