ACROSS
1 Cotton fabric
5 The Cavaliers of
the ACC
8 Parkinson’s drug
13 “What’s Going __
Your World”:
George Strait hit
14 “Delta of Venus”
author
15 “Lincoln,” for one
16 “That’s terrible!”
17 Internet __
18 Internet lesson
plan company
19 Cleaned
meticulously
22 Weather forecast
abbr.
23 Heated feeling
24 Like a good-sized
farm
28 Disdainful literary
review comment
31 2013 animated
fantasy film
32 Wear (away)
33 Fan mail encl.
34 Ironclad
39 Voice of Barney
on “The
Flintstones”
41 Like MacDonald
42 Fertility goddess
44 Malice, in law
49 To such an
extent
50 __ Riddle, Lord
Voldemort’s birth
name
51 Málaga title: Abbr.
53 Classic Stones
song ... and a
hint to what’s
hidden at the
ends of 19-, 28-,
34- and 44-
Across
56 Take for granted
59 Debt-laden fin.
deal
60 Skyrocket
61 Arboreal
marsupials
62 Plan
63 “Lonely Boy”
singer
64 Not relaxed at all
65 Pindaric __
66 Hardy soul?
DOWN
1 Cries of
contempt
2 Rashly
3 Home city of the
WNBA’s Lynx
4 “And giving __,
up the chimney
... ”
5 Yet to arrive
6 Spectrum color
7 Standing against
8 Department store
section
9 “Camptown
Races” refrain
syllables
10 Decide to be
involved (in)
11 Entrée follower,
perhaps
12 Coolers, briefly
15 Commands
20 Put (together)
21 Lieu
25 Definite
26 Early ’N Sync
label
27 Scratch (out)
29 Rim
30 Top-ranked
tennis star for
much of the ’80s
35 Stars’ opposites
36 Chili rating unit
37 “Stand” opposite
38 Exploit
39 Bygone telecom
co.
40 Coastal flier
43 Barely runs?
45 Ski bumps
46 “Allow me”
47 Discouraging
words from an
auto mechanic
48 More than
discouraging
words
52 Rich tapestry
54 Muppet who
always turns 3
1/2 on February 3
55 Future atty.’s
ordeal
56 Blotter letters
57 Prince George, to
Prince William
58 Didn’t start
By Alan DerKazarian
(c)2016 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
01/22/16
01/22/16
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
RELEASE DATE– Friday, January 22, 2016
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
xwordeditor@aol.com
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6 — Friday, January 22, 2016
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
By LEJLA BAJGORIC
Hip-Hop Columnist
D
r. Martin Luther King
Jr. delivered one of
his most pivotal, most
iconic speeches in 1963 before
the Lincoln Memorial in Wash-
ington D.C., sweltering in
the August heat. King shared
his dreams before a crowd of
250,000, with not one dream
making reference to hip hop —
understandably so, as it wasn’t
born yet.
But that was over 50 years
ago. Not only is hip hop now
alive and well (even if that
“well” part is contentious, and
probably even the “alive” part
if we ask Nas his opinion), but
it has undeniably solidified its
place as the music of present
day youth culture. For more rea-
sons than I can explain or even
understand, hip hop is impor-
tant — hip hop as a culture that
is, because to solely condense
all that is hip hop into a musical
genre is to trivialize the Black
brilliance that brought it into
being. But rapping, an element
of hip hop, is important as well.
And by that logic, so are rappers,
those who come up with and
carry out the messages within
the music.
But for some reason (it’s actu-
ally a specific and easy to under-
stand reason), rappers generally
aren’t taken seriously, much less
respected. Often times they’re
instead played as pawns by
upper-level executives in the
music industry, chewed up and
spit out after they fail to deliver
any more hits.
A hit usually requires rap-
pers to fulfill cliché ideals of
Blackness because, as Tricia
Rose explains in “The Hip Hop
Wars,” in the post-civil rights
era America has developed
an especially rife appetite for
stereotyped entertainment. So
maybe I take that back. Hip hop
is alive, but maybe it’s not doing
so well. In some senses, the
state of hip hop is quite toxic.
Since we’re keepin’ it real, let’s
acknowledge the other factors
Rose insists have synergistically
created these toxic conditions.
We’ve got new technologies,
crazy corporate consolidation,
a culture where violence and
misogyny are valued, the never-
ending expansion of street
economies and the industry
manipulation I briefly men-
tioned. Oh, and racism — that’s
still a thing. Damn.
Weren’t things supposed to
get better post-Civil Rights Act?
Interestingly enough, hip hop’s
legacy isn’t the only one subject
to distortion, which brings us
back to Dr. King. Posthumously,
things are going pretty well for
King. In the only industrialized
nation without paid maternity
leave, having a day off of work
is kinda like a big deal, but
that’s what happens every third
Monday in January when we
celebrate the esteemed orator’s
birthday. On a more serious
note, though, Dr. King is widely
regarded and revered as one of
the most skilled, strategic activ-
ists of the Civil Rights Move-
ment — a leader ahead of his
time. Now for a disclaimer: I’m
about to draw some similarities
between both the treatment and
views of Dr. King and those of a
few dope rappers, but don’t dis-
miss me yet, it’s with the best of
intentions. My last hope is to in
some way smear King’s legacy,
which like that of rap is precise-
ly what happens way too often.
King made his way, right-
fully so, into our history books,
but unfortunately he can also
be found in the mouths of some
of the most downright disre-
spectful dons of derailment. I’m
talking about the people who
have the audacity to ask why
protesters are “rioting” instead
of following King’s doctrine of
nonviolence every time con-
cerned community members
join forces and flood the streets
after another unlawful and
uncalled for police shooting.
Tamir Rice. Tanisha Anderson.
We should keep saying their
names. And these derailment
virtuosos do and ask a bunch of
other bothersome things too,
but they’re not the focus here.
If you’d like to further discuss
the difference between enact-
ing violence on disenfranchised
peoples and those peoples’ reac-
tions, you can personally email
me. But back to King. And back
to hip hop — where rappers are
often manipulated, both from
the jump when signed to major
record labels and through the
twisted use of their lyrics as
explanation and justification for
the hopeless poverty they find
themselves in. Ahem, fuck Bill
O’Reilly. (Snoop said it, not me.)
Nonetheless, like King, many
of these rappers continue to
produce powerful music in
which they continue to share
their dreams. And many of these
dreams resonate with those of
Dr. King.
Let’s start in the South, as
it’s the most overlooked. People
really front everything from the
drank in their cups and gold in
their mouths, to the screwed-
up-and-chopped sounds of their
music that didn’t all originate in
the third coast. But I digress and
will save that topic for another
column. Dreams in the South
stank like gasoline. Off the
futuristic, funkadelic, unique
utopia that is Outkast’s Stanko-
nia, nothing about “Gasoline
Dreams” is dreamy. This shit
sonically hits hard: an explo-
sive beat, over which Andre
screams “burn motherfucka
burn American dreams” — fit-
ting. It samples Geto Boyz’s
“Crooked Officer,” also fitting,
as Big Boi breaks down the rela-
tionship between racial identity,
drugs and the law in his verse:
Rich white kids inherit wealth,
while poor Black ones inherit
racial profiling and incarcera-
tion, often times due to drugs
which didn’t end up in the hood
on accident. “Fuck the Holice.”
Dre can’t cope in his verse,
while Khujo finds hope not in
America, nor in Africa, but in
death and Judgment Day. The
American Dream has been cor-
rupted by crooked cops, gluttony
and greed for Dre, Big Boi and
the people of Atlanta. Let that
shit burn then.
While we’re on the topic of
explosions, in Nas’s video for
“Street Dreams,” the Illmatic
rhyme-slayer gets blown up in
the final scene, a Hype-Williams-
directed take on “Casino.” But
before his flame-filled, ficti-
tious death, Nas spends the
track doing what he does oh so
proficiently — storytelling. This
track, and the album (It Was
Written) itself, is still a source
of contention: It’s Nas’s most
commercially successful release
to date, “Street Dreams” being
his only hit single to go gold,
but some fans and reviewers
alike feel it was lacking. Maybe
it was too drastic of a shift in
sound, too pop, too palpable. But
that palpability expanded Nas’s
reach, giving newfound fans a
taste of street dreams, a taste
they otherwise wouldn’t have
come across. Nas raps, “Grow-
ing up project-struck, lookin for
luck, dreamin / Scoping the large
n****s beaming, check what I’m
seeing / Cars, ghetto stars push-
ing ill Europeans.” His dream is
centered on the luxuries of life,
like Beamers and other “ill Euro-
peans,” usually only afforded to
white Americans of European
descent. He just wants the shit to
come full circle. And he’s willing
to do whatever, including dabble
in the drug game. The glamoriza-
tion of the crack business may
not appeal to MLK, but what
I’m trying to stress with “Street
Dreams” is Nas’s relentless
resolve to fulfill his dream “with-
out the FBI catching feelings.”
While Outkast set fire to the
conditional, crooked American
dream, and Nas gave his all to
fulfill the well-known, wide-
spread street dream of making it
out of the hood, the final dream
we’ll look at is MC Breed’s, a
dream fulfilled — unbelievably
though. The late, great Breed
hails from Flint, a city that’s at
the center of the nation’s atten-
tion at the moment (has Gov.
Snyder resigned yet?) but was
virtually unknown in the rap
game before Breed hit the scene.
With the debut release of MC
Breed & DFC in 1991, the MC put
the Midwest on the map, but his
sound would grow to be more
reminiscent of the West, g-funk
grooves, piercing synths and
all, due to his move out to L.A.
and constant collaboration with
Too Short, D.O.C. and the like.
In fact, Too Short’s staple pro-
ducer, Ant Banks, was behind
“Dreamin’,” the lead single from
his 1997 album Flatline. Breed
had been in the game for a hand-
ful of years at this point, finally
asking, “40-ounce-drinkin,
wearing links and riding Lexus
coup — am I dreamin?’ ” Nas
convinced us he’d give his all to
see his dreams come to fruition,
but it seems like Breed has vic-
toriously done just that, and now
needs a moment to reflect on all
he’s overcome to achieve such
a feat — making it out. Breed
declares, “Either roll with me
or get rolled on,” as he’s come
too far to risk the progress he’s
made. The last minute of the
song is purely instrumental, giv-
ing Breed plenty of time to look
back on his accomplishments as
the track fades.
Dreams are important —
whether it’s the deconstruction
of deceitful ones, the tireless
pursuit of transformative ones
or the reflection upon the pains-
taking accomplishment of pur-
poseful ones. Whether they’re
expressed by Civil Rights
activists or local rappers, their
validity stands and resonance in
respective communities is real.
Above all, if I’m going to spend a
semester writing a biweekly col-
umn on hip hop, I felt it was in
order to affirm the importance
of hip hop and an integral part
of hip hop — its dreams.
Bajgoric is The Daily’s new
hip-hop columnist. To contact
her, e-mail lejla@umich.edu.
HIP-HOP COLUMN
MLK had a dream,
and so does hip hop
I can’t look away
from ‘Murderer’
Netflix’s challenging
true-crime doc lives
up to the hype
By HAILEY MIDDLEBROOK
Daily Arts Writer
Small towns have their secrets.
I know, because I’m from one.
My family lives in Ludington,
Mich., a summer hotspot on the
shore of Lake Michigan. Starting
in June, our downtown is packed
with ice cream-licking tourists,
sunset watchers and sand dune
hikers who never stray too far
from the trail. They often buy
tickets to board the S.S. Badger, a
car ferry that ships directly across
Lake Michigan to Manitowoc,
Wis., a small town that mirrors
our own.
Safe to say, Manitowoc is no lon-
ger known as just a lakeside retreat.
Since “Making a Murderer” pre-
miered on Netflix in December,
the 10-episode true-crime docu-
mentary has shined an unflatter-
ing light on the town and people of
Manitowoc — uncovering violent
crimes and the power that towns-
people (law enforcement included)
have over undesirable members of
the community. For instance, the
power to sentence young Steven
Avery to 18 years of prison for a
crime he didn’t commit.
Before Avery becomes (or is
made into) a murderer, as the show
title implies, he’s undoubtedly a
victim of the justice system. “Mak-
ing a Murderer” opens in the year
1985, when Penny Beerntsen, wife
of a well-respected business owner,
was attacked while running on the
shore of Lake Michigan. When
the police heard her story, Steven
Avery was labeled a prime suspect
— he had a record of petty crimes,
but more pertinently, he had beef
with his cousin, the deputy sher-
iff’s wife — and though he had sev-
eral witnesses to his whereabouts,
Avery was arrested. In the trial
that followed, Avery was success-
fully prosecuted by the state and
charged with first-degree sexual
assault and attempted murder.
His case didn’t go unnoticed.
The Wisconsin Innocence Proj-
ect, an organization committed
to righting unjust convictions,
took Avery under its wing. With
improved DNA testing in the
2000s, the organization was able
to prove Avery’s innocence: they
didn’t find Avery’s hair in the
case evidence, but rather Gregory
Allen’s, a serial sex offender in
Manitowoc who was prone to vio-
lence. When the damning results
came out in 2003, Avery was
released from prison — and into
the arms of attorneys eager to sue
the court of Manitowoc.
What happened next is both
heart wrenching and bewilder-
ing. In October 2005, Avery was
in the process of filing a $36 mil-
lion federal lawsuit against Mani-
towoc County, when a body was
found dead on his property — or
the remains of one, anyway. Teresa
Halbach, a reporter for Auto Trad-
er, had been sent to Avery’s junk
yard to photograph cars for sales
ads in the magazine. She arrived
on Avery’s property on October 31;
her bone fragments were discov-
ered 10 days later, buried in Avery’s
fire pit. Halbach’s RAV4, hidden
by plywood and brush, was found
among the junk cars. Though Hal-
bach wasn’t in the vehicle, some-
thing else was: Steven Avery’s
blood. And in a corner of Avery’s
house, dropped on the floor, were
the keys to her car.
Public opinion toward Avery
shifted immediately. Once the
poster child of wrongful convic-
tions, Avery was dropped from the
Innocence Project’s files. News of
the murder was picked up by the
New York Times, which is how
Laura Ricciardi and Moira Demos,
both graduate film students at
Columbia, heard about the case in
2005 and decided it had the mak-
ings of a documentary. Over the
next 10 years, the two traveled to
Wisconsin on a shoestring budget,
interviewing Avery’s family and
attorneys, gathering hours of court
footage and mining through thick
police reports to create the film.
As it happens, 10 years was
exactly how long the show needed
to bake. With recent true crime
series like HBO’s “The Jinx” and
podcasts like “Serial” garnering
massive media attention, “Making
a Murderer” slid naturally into the
same place. Like its predecessors,
the series has the power to hook
an audience — people like me, who
are familiar with Manitowoc and
know the power of small-town
politics, or those who thrive off
mysteries, like the hundreds of
Reddit users who’ve posted their
own theories about the case. Even
top documentary filmmakers, talk
show hosts and journalists from
The New Yorker to Rolling Stone
Magazine have turned their heads.
But despite the hype and its
Netflix platform, “Making a Mur-
derer” isn’t a show to binge watch.
It’s too frustrating, disturbing and
frankly exhausting to view more
than one episode in a sitting. Part
of this is due to its bare-bones form,
which relies almost exclusively on
filmed interrogations, court trials
and recorded phone calls between
Avery and his family — conversa-
tions that aren’t so much illuminat-
ing as they are repetitive. A recent
“Late Night With Seth Meyers”
parodied these calls perfectly in
Meyers’ skit, “Making a Talk Show
Host”:
“Yah, Seth?” asks a collect call
from New York.
“Yeah,” Meyers replies.
“Yah, you gotta come back. Ya
know?”
“I’ve only been out two weeks,”
Meyers says. “Two weeks I’ve been
gone. I gotta come back? ... So, I
gotta come back?”
Though “Making a Murderer”
doesn’t have the constant action
we’ve come to expect in a crime
series, we have to remember what
it is: not a fictional crime show,
but a true story with real people,
whose lives have been battered
and stolen from them. Perhaps it’s
this truth — the realness of Mani-
towoc and its citizens, their situ-
ations both horribly familiar and
unbelievable — that makes it hard
to look away.
TV NOTEBOOK