Take a bow, barbekooks. You've really outdone yourselves this time.
When a music legend's plea for racial justice and the acknowledgment of our shared humanity becomes another lamebrain barbecue slogan… Well, it tries one's faith.
We are all accustomed by now to the coarsening of our culture, the cheapening of our history, the defiling of our profoundest yearnings. It has happened so often, many of us no longer know the difference between authentic lives lived and the greasy speeches and grimy lies of the advertisers, the hypnotizers, and the bamboozlers.
Charlatans show us a warped mirror of ourselves and mesmerize us with voices we take to be our own. They do this to sell us things we don't want, need, or even understand. They do it to prevent us from feeling our own power.
Which brings us back to Bob Marley's anthem of despair "Them Belly Full (But We Hungry)."
Cost of livin' gets so high.Food is not enough. The spirit must be nourished. The thirst for mercy must be slaked!
Rich and poor they start to cry.
Now the weak must get strong.
They say, "Oh, what a tribulation!"
Them belly full, but we hungry.
A hungry mob is a angry mob.
A rain is fall, but the dirt it tough.
A pot is cook, but the food no 'nough.
Only… not in Suicidefoodistan. Everything there is just an excuse for mocking the animals sold down the river. So the "hungry, angry mob" is just that: No longer a metaphor for the multitudes who would be free, now it is only a problem to be solved by suicidal animals marching to their besotted deaths. "Hungry, you say? Here."
The animals (including a pig, whose flesh is abjured by many Rastas) wear dreadlocks and bear all the telltale signs of ganja use. Their flag is the distasteful bastard child of the Rasta and Texas flags.
Is nothing sacred? Can you really wonder?