Dear, 2Pac

Dear,
2Pac

I don't commune with the dead. Not as a medium. I don't conjure you for a concert. Let me just speak to your legacy.

2pacolypse, it might just happen. People of color fighting in the streets. Urban warfare. Molotov Cocktails.

I am white. But I suffer against the same institutions you do. And I am not published. Your voice is heard. Everyone recognizes you. You were rich. And I am poor, on welfare, unable to earn a living off of my work. 

In the Slavic Nations it was communism which they reared upon their haunches, and fought for. You don't realize it, but your work is of the same vein as the Communist, frustrated with society. My Marxian background, loving Marx from a young man---now I despise him---makes me want to fight for my prosperity. Makes me want to riot.

Yet, you are published. And I am not. You had the surplus of a king, as the King of Rap. I---at this moment---am poor. Is it race that holds me back? I am of the Race called Superior, born with blonde hair, a German. I wish I were Jewish, and perhaps I am. But it is not my race that holds me back. I could easily pass as that Holy Race which is called "Privileged" by blacks.

Lincoln did not free the slaves for politics' sake. He simply could have never written the Emancipation Proclamation, and allowed slavery to continue. That would have certainly fixed the problem. As the south wished to break apart from the North because of slavery. Lincoln was also an avid abolitionist. 

No, you are just a relic of hate, in an industry which pimps blacks and turns them into savages. No longer are you Kings and Princes like the Duke, Nat King Cole and Louis Armstrong. You're the Pigmy in the zoo. You were not a prophet. And sure enough, you'll have your 2pacolypse. I may be killed by some wandering zealot, radicalized by your music.

The ghettos are bad. But how much of your music is the very vein which emboldens them? How many kids are killed while your music blares? Where is the peace, when in the 1920s, men could safely sleep out in Harlem's fire chutes.

No, I am on welfare. I cannot get a job, or else my sustenance is taken from me. I may lose my necessary health insurance. As that's the real leverage over me. The policies that hold you back are the same ones holding me back. 

If you wanted to fix the world, if you wanted to make your streets safer, if you wanted peace... you failed. But, you continually rap of Race War like a two bit Nazi Krout. And remember, you had the whole world at your fingertips. You were a rich man. But you couldn't let it go. It tied to you, and the anger of your riches, the fact that you proved yourself wrong... and it screams in your lyrics, the cognitive dissonance that America is prosperous and wealthy, and you had your bit. And you got killed by a drug feud. Either that, or you faked your death, and escaped.