JOBA, OBAMA, OPIO AND MORE...

Here we go. Obama gets the nod. The table's set for what will be a historical presidential race. And, as the spokesman for your favorite blog, The Root Down, I'm proud to announce that the site, its administrators, writers and programmers are fully backing Obama for president. No more waffling. Now, where can I get one of those Punahou jerseys?

Maybe it's because I've always been a fan of the underdog. Maybe it's because I actually believe that there might be change and know that we desperately need it because the current plan just doesn't work. Maybe I think that what an African American president would represent in this country is that people can move on, grow, accept and bring hope to a future without prejudice and racism. People have questioned what change Obama really influence. I say Obama, alone, is change.

Let's talk real hype. What in the hell is with this Joba Chamberlain kid from the Yankees? Everyone's been talking about homie like he's the second coming. I've seen his heat. I've also seen him lose. He does all of his first pumping and crowd-rallying antics. Yeah, he's pretty awesome. I guess.

Wow, my favorite player of all time? Must be a real baseball fan here. Let's go to the stats. In his rookie campaign last year, he pitched an incredible 24 innings. That, alone, is astounding. Such durability. He struck out 34 batters in those 24 innings. I mean, this kid is on fire. This year, so far, he's 1-2 with a 2.42 ERA. He hasn't saved a game. This dude hasn't pitched more than 3 innings at a time. Yet, still, you'd swear he was the next great superstar. I ain't seen nothing yet except a guy who tries to act the Charlie "Wild Thing" Sheen part. He's a good t-shirt at this point. A cute name. But when he hits the mound, he hasn't done nothing yet.

Celtics vs. Lakers. Ya'll ain't even ready. It all begins tomorrow. I want bruises, blood, hard elbows, trash talk and hard fouls. The league's become way too soft over the last few years. After the Artest event, it seems this league ducked into insipid "positivity" PR campaign and looked to sharpen up their image (see also: PLAYER DRESS CODES). It's laughable. This is a sport. This is a competition. And when you talk Celtics and Lakers, it's all that times three. Last year, the NBA Finals reached an all-time low in viewership as the league's new Jordan, Lebron James (we are all witnesses) got swept by the Spurs in the finals. It's time to show them how it's really done.
Opio, from Hieroglyphics/Souls of Mischief, might have dropped one of the nicest gems this year, in my humblest. Vulture's Wisdom doesn't hit the stores until July (even though I heard it was pushed to August), but it's totally badass. I ain't heard anything meritable from Opio since 1993 (yep, 93 Til Infinity). But with producer The Architect providing the very Dilla-drenched backdrop and Opio ducking and diving like a prizefighter, we got a beast on our hands here. I hear it only times out at just over thirty minutes. Perfect.

It's been another lackluster year for hip hop. It's just mad boring out there. People are so uninspired. Defeated. I don't know what it is. It's like we've hit the end of hip hop's creative spectrum. Of course, I say we hit the wall because we've spent a decade serving a master that doesn't really care about your longevity, your livelihood and your artistry. The fans. Because we're a fan-first, packaging-second and artistry-third genre, we're built to fail once the winds shift. And the winds have shifted.