Kanye's new album

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Ok. So people either love or hate Kanye's new album "808's and Heartbreak". It got a butchered and praised by various music critics. But a lot of people seem to like it because it's topping the U.S. charts.

Detroit news music critic Adam Graham writes:


“"No plush bear. No collegiate theme. No fun. "808s & Heartbreak" is a stark departure for rapper-producer Kanye West, who since emerging with his 2004 debut, " The College Dropout," has grown into the decade's most transfixing music star, hip-hop or otherwise.”



I'd ask Graham to take it for what it is. Seriously. There should be no debate here. This album is a train wreck of emotional baggage backed by electronic beats. The thing is called "808s and Heartbreak" and that's all it is.No one should be disappointed. The title says it all. You want to hear what 808 drums and heartbreak sound like together on a CD? Get the album. You don't? Don't get the album. It's as simple as that.

Are you EMO? Yeah, you'll like it. Are you mad at or hurt by your recent ex ? You'll love it. Are you sick and tired of T-pain like auto tones? Then you'll hate it.

That's the word.

~HAH.

REAL TALK

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“People across the nation are acting like the auto bailout will save the auto industry. If statistics are correct, they spend about $600 billion a year on parts alone. What was $14 billion going to do? Let's face it. It's over. It's been over. But change is hope. Let's start using our human brain that separates us from other animals and develop new technology.”

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Racial tension still prominent in post-election America

In the post election glow of voting in a black president, it’s a little easier to forget that racial tension is still prominent. Especially when you surround yourself with one race at a time. But when observing mixed groups of people, the tensions between races show. While more people are talking about race now, it’s still an awkward topic that is hard to address and makes many feel uncomfortable.

On the night after thanksgiving I was invited to Berkley Michigan, a predominantly white suburb of Detroit to visit a friend from high school. Over the past year I’ve spent so much time the city of Detroit, I almost forgot how it was to be on the other side of Eight Mile Road in the suburbs where people aren’t as aware of crime. Many don’t lock their cars and when stepping away from their seat at the bar they leave their belongings assuming no one else will steal them.

But perhaps a larger difference was the racial demographic. Except for three black people in the corner, everyone at the bar I was invited to was white. I noticed this instantly, because in Detroit it’s often the other way around. I also noticed a heavyset man playing pool in a black T-shirt with a confederate flag across his chest.

No one in my group said anything about it, though I thought it was very visible, so I brought it up. I asked my friends (who are all white) if that shirt bothered anyone. They were quick to call the man a racist who was “probably in the KKK” but quickly changed the topic.

I couldn’t let it end there. I approached one of the three black people in the bar. I asked a young man (who was playing pool at a table next to man with the flag on his chest) if the confederate symbol bothered him. He said it did, but that he didn’t want to get into a fight “around here”.

There was no reason to start a fight. After all, it was just a T-shirt and I hadn’t talked to the guy wearing it yet. So I decided to do just that. I approached the man in the flag with a smile and asked how he was doing. He stopped and stared looking surprised and rather speechless. I went on to compliment his shirt.

The surprised look on his face turned to fright and h stepped back two paces. “It’s not mine,” he said quickly as if I were threatening him. “My friend gave it to me. I’m not a rebel.”

I laughed and said I was just curious about it because I had a similar T-shirt, in fact, with an even bigger flag on it (because I do). The man looked like he wanted to run. His pool partner just stared on with a grimace but didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t buy it. It’s not mine,” the man in the flag continued.

His face was getting red. I’m not sure if it was out of embarrassment or frustration, so I decided to leave him alone. I shook his hand and wished him a good night.

Within five minutes he and his friend left the bar.

Later that evening one of the three black people in the bar, a girl about my age got on stage to do some karaoke. I overheard one of my white friends say to the other, “She’s so black” in a scornful tone. What exactly did he mean by that? That she had dark skin? My other friend responded, "She’s ghetto." I leaned in to ask what they meant by that but when they noticed I was listening in they changed the topic and avoided eye contact with me for a couple minutes as if ashamed.

What baffled me was that these were the people who minutes before were condemn the man wearing the flag for being a racist. Furthermore, these are people who voted for Barack Obama and agreed with his message of unity among races.

The tension and mocking goes both ways. When I went back to talk to the black people in the bar one of them asked in a critical tone if I always hung out with so many white people. I was beginning to see that that my attempts to ease the tension were not doing much.

Maybe I forgot the level of tension that's created when there’s a mixed group in a room. When I got back home to Detroit, I wondered: Was it always like this, or has living in Detroit made me more sensitive to racial issues? It could be that I, like many others, assumed that with Obama's presidency people must be over petty racial differences. Obviously not.