It is rather a Herculean task to find a global, all-encompassing
definition of “African music.” Moreover, defining “African music” would
inevitably be in relation to another type of music; rhythm is to
African music as melody is to western music (Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoke).
Consequently, when we try to define “African music” we are
intellectually better served to find certain “commonalities” that
Scholars generally agree to be the representative characteristics of
“African music.” In relation to the diaspora, it is historically
accurate for us to narrow our focus in defining music to West Africa
rather than the whole of sub-Saharan Africa. In truth, “the western
world is perhaps most familiar with the cultural activities of African

I recently received the following article from a listserve. I'm still chewing on the content of the article, including the underlying tone. Without fully coming to my own conclusions, I thought I'd offer this article to our shared space and gauge some healthy and safe discussion on peoples' thoughts.

Why Hillary Shouldn't Be Obama's VP

Of Whiners and Poor Losers

By DAVE LINDORFF

On February 19, 2008 students of Prairie View A&M in Texas took to the streets to make a statement about voting rights. Students at this HBCU stood up and made a statement "It's 2008. We will vote!" - which was plastered over their banners and t-shirts. Why did these students march 7.3 miles to be able to vote early and register to vote?

I've been sitting here some time now,

Severely beaten, bloody tears stream down my face

My once possessed fame and self-pride have all been swiped away

Heart broken...heavily laden...never did I think she would do this to me

Where was my father?  Thought he would always protect me...

Found the reason some days ago; people saying he was away...

needed some time to relax.

RELAX...I was here being tossed about, broken into infinite pieces, drowned and brought back to life, cruelly I was buried beneath rubble:

Yes, she did all this to me...all the while my father sat back and r-e-l-a-x-e-d

My soul comprised of miniature souls aches; it pains me to breathe

I dare not look into a mirror; for what I may see frightens me

Last night when I tried to sleep... voices from the souls within

screamed at, cried to, spoke with ME

Elders, infants, youth, middle-aged adults simultaneously reached out;

searching for relief

5-FIVE days have passed and now my father returns.  He's a little too late...

I have experienced death...from my mother

And so now I sit here, as I have done for some time now

Severely beaten with raspberry tears streaming down my bronzed cheeks, contemplating; do I blame my mother for the damage she has done unto me.

Or my father for the neglect that he bestowed.

Warning signs had been given far in advanced.  He could have sent me away to a safe place, but he failed...

Failed me, and the souls of those elders, infants, young adults, and children who have yet to be found.

My catastrophe will rang throughout history...I will always be the child who was beaten, drowned, made to hunger and thirst for days by the woman who I call mother:

All the while my father vacationed...so he wouldn't see my pain.

[asset|aid=39|format=image|formatter=asset|width=256|height=232|align=right|resizable=true]

Let's not let Republicans take credit for a bill they wanted to kill.  The leadership were sure to drag their feet as long as they could on this bill before pushing it through the house in a matter of hours.

These are my thoughts on why they did it, how it went down, and what it means for the Progressive movement.