Wrath of the Math

Brooklyn Rapper Jeru the Damaja.

Jeru the Damaja and I both grew up in Brooklyn. We both got our start at block parties, a huge part of Brooklyn culture at that time. He started rhyming, I started writing.

My first steps were taken at a block party. My grandmother's estate contains little but a Florida condo, a box of cherished costume jewelry and some flickering Super 8 reels, mainly shot on location during block parties--the one special occasion that motivated neighbors to separate themselves from the world, draw boundaries with strings of plastic flags, party lights and bright orange hazard cones.

In Brooklyn in the 1980's, neighbors opened their doors to one another, shared food, music, a metal half-moon ride on the back of a truck,tables full of watermelon and jello, special cakes iced with coconut, the aroma of grilled meat. We lit sparklers and spelled luminous words in the air. We played games, darted across the suddenly safe street into other people's houses and watched the adults loosen up.

Above all, we had the music, and dancing in the streets. The fact that Jeru the Damaja started off at Brooklyn block parties is reason enough for me to love him. Objectively, however--I believe he is one of the finest voices to have emerged from the extremely creative and special culture of Brooklyn in the 80's. I find myself devoting hours of thought to two of his lyrics in particular. Both are extremely challenging for different reasons, and I'd appreciate your perspective in comments if you have time to muse.

FIGURE A:

"Wrath of the Math"

Let us now discuss the mental attitude
The mental must always stay calm
You must let nothing move you
Be it good or bad

But when the mental and I be moved
There is no longer good or bad, there just is
When there just is
You have the power to form and shape

So now witness
The wrath of the math
Tell me when you're ready
I'm ready

FIGURE B: