does hip hop hate (black) women (too)?

I decided not to write about Imus's remarks for various reasons, one of which is the mass amount of media attention paid to his racialized sexist comments. His was not an abstract invocation of jive rhetoric (as he claimed). Rather, he insulted a real group of women who didn't warrant such vitriole. People spoke out, and he was fired. The end?

Perhaps while people who claim to care about racialized sexism have the attention of CBS, we can use this opportunity to call attention to one of their channels that revels in the exploitation of black people in general and black women in particular: BET. Contrary to popular belief, BET is not owned by black people, it merely targets black audiences. To be sure, the caliber of shows and videos thrive according to audience taste. Hence, the circulation of petitions to cut BET's semipornographic "Uncut" succeeded in the network's cancellation of the show.

But I suppose we couldn't stop at BET, especially since VH-1 seems to have morphed into the "all cooning, all the time" channel with shows like "Flavor of Love" and "I Love New York" leading their line-ups. And I'm not suggesting "we" whoever "we" are engage in a censorship campaign. But it is important to use these media fiascos as teaching moments and opportunities to continue drawing attention to the violence (both verbal and physical) black women encounter on a daily basis.

At the same time, some Imus critics and defenders have called out hip hop for its misogynistic lyrics, as if hip hop scholars, critics and activists have not been critiquing its lyrical content for a number of years now. So before we applaud Imus (like some folks did "Kramer") for raising a mirror to black communities' intraracial problems, we should remember that critiques of hip hop have been waged from within black communities since the cassette tape was still in circulation. T. Denean Sharpley-Whiting's new book Pimps Up, Ho's Down: Hip Hop's Hold on Young Black Women furthers these analyses, offering a fresh feminist perspective on hip hop's misogynistic culture and its association with the sex industry. Joining Professor Sharpley-Whiting in a national tour, critics Bakari Kitwana, Mark Anthony Neal, Joan Morgan, and Byron Hurt have scheduled a number of rap sessions (well before the Imus debacle) that address the question of hip hop's hatred of women. It's a pity that the interventions these scholars have been making into hip hop culture, gender and sexuality doesn't garner the same attention as Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson's sermonic pontification.