What you think I sold ‘em all?

Please be informed that being my first blog post ever, I'm going to write like I think a real "blogger" would blog. Let me know if I sound like a douche bag.

Here it is:

Compton. I’ve never been there. I’ve never even been to the west coast. My extremely limited knowledge of the neighborhood comes from hip hop lyrics and that horrible History Channel miniseries “Gangland,” (the History Channel has seriously gone to shit).

Today I read that the residents of Compton are handing over their guns in record numbers. It isn’t because the Bloods and Crips have finally put the past behind them, because a black man was elected president, or even because Dre told them to. The infamous Compton is turning over its arsenal out of desperation, in exchange for food vouchers.

Over the last decade or so we have hit some pretty low points as a nation. We lapped up reality television at an unprecedented pace, danced the Macarena, and beat people out of the way to buy Tickle-Me-Elmo dolls. Even with all that humiliation, we have managed to reach a new bottom. We are now at the new pathetic state of the nation in which it no longer feels good to be a gangster.

We’ve heard of toys for guns exchanges and Talib claiming he’s got guns for toys, but food vouchers? We can probably blame the "success" of this weapons for food exchange on the economic crisis. I have to admit though, deep down I was hoping the OGs would rob banks or take hostages to get by, rather than handing over their automatic weapons and hand grenades for a few weeks worth of groceries.

That's right, people turned in hand grenades.