Monster Rap “All I need to know”
By Jeff Reguilon
The California Aggie

In 1989, Robert Fulghum published a collection of several short essays, including “All I Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten,” to the delight of gaudily embroidered sweatshirt-donning soccer moms everywhere. Unsure of the subject matter, I began reading it under the assumption that the essay would rail against the uselessness of post-Play-Doh education. Instead, I found a sappy list of life guidelines supposedly learned in the first year of school. Although I appreciate the notion that all the knowledge one needs to live a full and healthy life can be ascertained in one place, for me, that place was not kindergarten.

No, all I need to know I learned from Monsters of Rap.

If only I had Razor and Tie's compilation of late 1980s/early 1990s rap earlier in my life, I could have bypassed years of social ineptitude, self-loathing and time wasted in school. You've probably seen the commercials late at night between ads for "Girls Gone Wild" and "Girls Gone Absolutely Pathetic For Plastic Beads at Mardi Gras."

You might think the Monsters of Rap CD only serves the purpose of getting your friends' butts to wiggle a little bit at the party you're hosting or filling up space in the bargain bin next to Joey Lawrence and Color Me Badd, but you'd be missing the subtle beauty of these songs. Every track and every artist has an important lesson to share.

For example, Sir Mix-a-Lot's track "Baby Got Back" teaches us a lesson in honesty. He begins by taking an unpopular stance and proclaiming, "[he] like[s] big butts and [he] cannot lie." Sir Mix-a-Lot shows that it's important to stand by your convictions even if others may not agree. He continues by promoting self-esteem and emphatically denouncing the unrealistic images fashion magazines depict, declaring "So Cosmo says you're fat/Well I ain't down with that!" Sir Mix-A-Lot tells us to love others how they are, and as a result, the love we have for ourselves can grow as big as the posteriors he prefers.

Monsters of Rap also offers us valuable information about females. Yo-Yo's song "You Can't Play With My Yo-Yo" teaches us that although women are beautiful creatures, we should be respectful toward them and their bodies. She breaks it down when she announces, "check the booty, yo it's kinda soft, but if you touch, you livin' in a coffin (word to your mother)." Thanks to Yo-Yo, I now know that just because a girl is attractive and dresses provocatively, I do not necessarily have an invitation to grope her. I'm sure the ladies who frequent the Cantina would appreciate it if more men heeded Yo-Yo's valuable lesson.

Young MC provides inspiration on his track "Bust A Move" by teaching us a lesson in perseverance and informing us that there's a mate out there for everyone. This lesson is especially dear to me, as I haven't gotten any girlie action since Michael Jackson's heyday. I often find myself "wishin' someone could cure [my] lonely condition," but whenever I worry that I'll be more alone than "Stone Cold" Steve Austin at a Mensa convention for the rest of my life, I remember Young MC's words. When it comes to drought in one's love life, Young MC reminds us that "every dark tunnel has a light of hope, so don't hang yourself with a celibate rope." Now I don't have to hide my belt and shoelaces whenever I get Shaqued by the object of my desires. All I have to do is throw on Monsters of Rap and I'm set.

Another lesson comes from MC Hammer's hit "U Can't Touch This." At the time Hammer released this single, his success seemed unquestionable. He rose from the inner-city struggle of his youth to a level of wealth that allowed him to add several yards of unnecessary fine fabric to each pair of his pants. As such, when Hammer talks about work ethic, people listen. In "U Can't Touch This," he reminds us that any level below 100 percent is worthless when he states, "Either work hard or you might as well quit." With pearls of wisdom like this, it is no wonder MC Hammer is a televangelist now. "And that's word because you know..."

The lessons learned from Monsters of Rap are far more valuable than anything I could have learned in the year I spent in kindergarten urinating in my overalls and making fun of the kids who didn't know how to read yet. Perhaps my time spent there might have been more valuable had my teacher spent less time worrying about my paste-eating habits and more time teaching us the messages of Tone Loc, Onyx and Vanilla Ice.

Jeff Reguilon is a columnist for The California Aggie at the University of California-Davis. This column was distributed by U-Wire.

The TCU Daily Skiff © 2002