D E A T H   B Y   B U L L S H I T

BY CHARLES JONES

first off, R.I.P. to Christopher Wallace BKA (better known as) Notorious B.I.G., age 24, a talented young man who died senselessly Sunday at the hands of someone who was most likely the same color as he.

Everyone knew it was true when we first heard rumors he was dead. "Aye! Somebody just killed that fool Biggie Smalls!"

"Damn!" was the only reply.

Despite their similarities, the two, B.I.G., also called Biggie Smalls, and Tupac Shakur feuded furiously -- in songs, in interviews and in person, pulling guns, traps, setups. All heaven and earth knows Tupac accused B.I.G. of being the attacker in the first attempt on his life in 1994 and spent much of the rest of his career trying to humiliate the "Notorious" one.

Ironically, Tupac and Big were at one time close friends. What severed the friendship? To quote Tupac, "Biggie got signed." The music industry destroyed their friendship, after which both set off on their own self-destructive paths. Both ended at the same point: bullet-riddled cars with bullet-riddled young black men slumped over inside.

Check out another similarity: Both men had the same underlining theme in their music -- death.

In light of their deaths, I've pondered their recorded pasts and fought the impulse to loathe both the men and their messages. First, Tupac, because he was once a voice of hunger and purity -- of "the young black male." In his first hit, "Brenda's Got a Baby," he reminded his audience:

I hear Brenda's got a baby, but Brenda's barely got a brain.
Damn shame the girl could hardly spell her name
That's not our problem, that's up to Brenda's family.
But let me show how it effects our whole community ...
Ayo and it's sad cuz I bet she doesn't know,
Just because you're in the ghetto doesn't mean you can't grow.

But Tupac regressed both mentally and spiritually as his financial status progressed. In his last album, "Makavelli the Don Killuminati," he moved from Brenda to:

Come with me, hail Mary Nigga! Run quick see, what do we hear now?
Do you want to ride (kill) or die? die. die. die. die. die, die, die, die.

Tupac fell from grace. Angelic, idealistic, the transformed, powerful Tupac became all too human, therefore inhuman. Whereas the B.I.G. man always saw his fate coming and voiced his fear frequently, from his first album, "Ready to Die" to his second and last, "Life After Death."

Even though both men expressed fear and resentment about their destinies, neither made the necessary changes in music, let alone lifestyle, to escape them. Their fears became self-fulfilling prophecies.

Both men have left legacies musically. Tupac's cronies are the Outlaw Immortals (once known as the Thug Life). B.I.G.'s junior mafia are now faced with the task of making good on their mentor's memories by making good of themselves. Early signs aren't good: The Outlaw Immortals just recently lost a member, the only member who was willing to assist police in finding Tupac's killers. He was shot in the head.

Others, less famous, like Seagram and Mr. C from the San Francisco Bay Area have also been killed. Men who should be raising their children and making more millions have met violent and bloody fates. Men who, even though at times they rebelled against such senseless loss of life, chose to accept this as reality and just "tell it like it is."

By contrast, rappers like Chuck-D and KRS One, Rass Kass and Outkast tell it how it should be.

Rest In Peace Seagram, Mr. C, Tupac and his all-too-mortal comrade Notorious B.I.G, examples all for those who criticize the music and martyrs for those who follow it.

To quote another spiritualist/edu-tainment rap group, Goodie M.D.B., "The good die mostly over bullshit."
March 13, 1997

Charles Jones writes for YO! Youth Outlook, a newspaper by and about young people.

© Pacific News Service