Strange Fruit

Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swingin' in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin' from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia, sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burnin' flesh
Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop

In the 1930's a school teacher named Lewis Allen handed a sheet of music to jazz legend, Billie Holiday. The music was about a lynching in the south. Lady Day was hesitant, but sang this song in a New York nightclub.

I went to the media center this afternoon to watch episode 6 of Ken Burns' Jazz. I've seen it once in class before, but hearing Billie sing it again, I tried to imagine how hard it was. I even tried to imagine what it would be like to be in the south those days to see a lynching. That was even harder. Call me a wuss, but I wanted to cry.

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I tried writing more, but I couldn't make it come together. I'll try later.

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Okay, I'm back... Y'all remember that flick, The Matrix? That movie was dope, but anyway, if you didn't see it, it was about a computer fabricated world for humans. In this world, people led normal lives, went to work, watched TV, and did all the normal things we do in our world, but it was all fake... Did I lose you? Go see the movie.

I was sitting there thinking why Keanu would wanna ruin people's lives by telling them the truth. The people were happy. So what if it was all fake? If they were happy, why should it matter?

Now the question is: "What is the truth and is it more important than happiness?" <== That's a tuff question to answer. All we ever want is happiness, but shouldn't the truth be a part of it?

Okay, okay, okay. I know what you're thinking. "What the hell do lynching and the Matrix have to do with anything?"

Living in the United States, is like living in the Matrix. We're so caught up in what we're gonna wear tomorrow, what's showing this Friday at the multiplex, what grade we're going to get on that midterm, what we can do to make more money; that we don't see that we are so very lucky.

I'm sitting here worried how I'm gonna pay off my credit card, waiting for that new Cannibal Ox LP, and drooling over Josie Maran, while a mother is worried how she's going to help her sick babies, an AIDS patient is waiting for a cure, and a homeless person is staring through the windows of a restaurant.

What I guess I'm trying to say was that yeah, our lives can be better, but it can be a lot worse. We'd all rather look at that floating red balloon than the strange hanging fruit. Don't take anything for granted.

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