Asger Leth's Ghosts of Cite Soleil
When I saw posters around town with a beautifully fit black man looking like a thug, I wondered when will this thug rap thing be over and done with? I mean, are we really that stupid? I couldn't help but think about what Sun Ra said, about how we tell the Gods about ourselves through our music. Well, ouch! I hurriedly prayed for the rash of bad, highly-produced music to run down the drain into humanity's sewer of things better off forgotten, of things we'll look back on and be like, what the hell were we thinking? You know, kinda like that feeling you get when you look at pictures of yourself from the 80s. But it was not a poster for a new rapper. Rather, it was a documentary by Asger Leth, Jørgen Leth 's son. Now, some of you may be familiar with the father. Benjamin loved his Tour de France commentary, something he was fired from doing after his memoir, The Imperfect Human was published. I knew what to expect when I viewed Asger Leth's documentary and boy did it d...