If I was a rapper my name would be Leadbelly.

I know this is way too late, and I should be talking about the trades, and i'm probably the least pop culturally savvy person of my generation, (At this moment I'm listening to Loretta Lynn. I think Corky, the partially down syndrome guy is more with it than I am) but I couldn't help thinking that something of tremendous, perhaps even calamitous import happened during last week's All Star game.

The most horrible pop act I've ever seen, Big and Rich played. These guys vocal crimes were surpassed only by the idiocy of their own lyrics. They had a dancing dwarf, who I assume must have been crippled because he was leaning on two crutches. I describe it as dancing but I think something on the lines of convulsive death throws is more accurate. I'd never seen anything like this before and didn't think it could get any worse when out came a giant black man in a cowboy hat who proceeded to do something he called rapping, the only problem was this guy was 58% more honky than me. It was beyond mortifying. I started to get a headache and it felt like blood started to seep from my right earlobe, (it actually turned out to be a light vinaigrette.)

As I was recovering from this assault, trying to fathom what AI thought of the proceedings as he returned to the court, I turned to VH1 strange love starring Flava Flav and Bridgette Nielson. Though it has been hard to reconcile Flav's relationship with a goofy Austrian it never bothered me too much as Public Enemy's legacy as the most militant and unapologetically political rap band was firmly solidified. However I was aghast to see Bridgette actually on stage with Public Enemy, prancing around with only slightly more grace than the crippled dwarf. Chuck D was up there, so was professor Griff and the S1W's. Can you imagine!

It's only now that I'm able to reflect on these events. It will take a mind more savvy than mine to fully understand and explain the ramifications of these two simultaneous abortions. NBA, a hip hop game taken over by so called "country" cretins. And Public Enemy, the one band who's goal was not to sell out, not just to get the bling, having a scabby whitey on stage.

Say it ain't so, Chuck(both of them).