That is not a typo, there has been much discussion this year about expanding the subjects to which the lens of skepticism is applied. Which brings us to the ‘typo.’ The issue of abortion is one of those subjects, I think, to which we should apply the principles of skepticism, and I think the rational position is pro-choice. The only pro-choice hip hop song I know of came out in 1993 by the group Digable Planets, a trio from New York, it appeared on their first Lp release “Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space),” I remember sitting my mother down and having her listen to this song, proud of Digable Planets for making it, and proud of myself for listening.
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It was 8:49 on a beautiful 9th day of July,
there was not a cloud to speak of so the orange sun hung
lonely in the sky.
I lay prone in my cabby home,
thinking of fine nappy Jackie and his jazzcat’s horn,
sliding in a tape of Bird on Verve, when suddenly rang my phone.
“Hey Butterfly,” the voice said,
“slip on some duds, comb out your fro, and slide on down to my pad.
The vibe here is very pleasant, and I truly request your presence,
a problem of great magnitude has arose,
and as we speak it grows.”
Damn, what could it be I thought,
a juice I bought and rolled on down to her spot.
Seeing bros I know, slapping fives, I arrived and pressed G-5,
and there was Nikki
lookin’ some kind of sad
with tears fallin’ from her eyes.
She sat me down
and dug my frown and began to run it down.
“You remember my boyfriend Sid, that fly kid who I love?
Well our love was often a verb, and spontaneity has brought a third,
but do to our youth an economic state we wish to terminate,
about this we don’t feel great, but baby that’s how it is,
but the feds have dissed me,
they ignored and dismiss,
and the pro-lifers harass me outside the clinic,
and call me a murderer, now that’s hate.
So needless to say we’re in a mental state of debate.”
“Hey beautiful bird,” I said digging her somber mood,
“the fascists are some heavy dudes,
they don’t really give a damn about life,
they just don’t want a woman to
control her body or have the right to choose.
But baby that ain’t nothin,
they just want a male finger on the button,
because if you say war they will send them to die by the score.
Aborting mission should be your volition,
but if Souter and Thomas have their way,
you’ll be standing in line unable to get welfare,
while they’ll be out hunting and fishing.
It has always been around, it will always have a niche,
but they’ll make it a privilege not a right,
accessible only to the rich.
Hey, pro-lifers need to dig themselves,
because life don’t stop after birth,
and for a child born to the unprepared,
it might even just get worse.
The situation would surely change,
if they were to find themselves in it,
supporters of the h-bomb and fire bombing clinics.
What type of shit is that? Orwellian in fact,
if Roe v. Wade was overturned, would not the desire remain intact,
leaving young girls to risk their health’s
doctors to botch and watch as they kill themselves.
Now, I hate to sound macabre
but hey, isn’t it my job
to lay it on the masses and get them off their asses
to fight against these fascists.
So, whatever you decide, make that move with pride,
Sid will be there,
and so will I,
an insect til I die.”
Rhythms and sounds,
spinning around,
confrontations
across the nation,
your block,
my block,
dreadlocks,
what a shock,
land of the free,
but not me…
not me…
not me…
not me…(repeat to fade)
This has been another installment of Monday Lab Tracks. Send us your musical recommendations through our contact link at the top of the page, and tell us what you think of the song in the comments below!
