SIPINSYRUP

May God deliver us from the curse of carelessness, from the thoughtless ill-considered deed. The deliberate evil of the world, we know is great, but how much of fortitude and strength and faith could we have to cure this and put it down, if only we were rid of the sickening discouraging mass of thoughtless careless acts in men who know and mean better. … God give us vision and thought. Amen.”

We have a lot to atone for. Turn on BET or your favorite tri-state radio station and dare argue differently. The videos are vicious, the songs are sickening. At this point, the solution might not be as simple as some—including yours truly—have proposed in times past. It might not be enough anymore to call for boycotts of radio and TV stations, to call for greater responsibility in the marketing departments, to call for accountability from artists. It appears to me that, at this critical stage, we have transcended the physical into the spiritual.

I’m afraid that, as a community, as enablers of the filth and fungus that is commercial Hip-Hop, we have wronged not only man and woman, but God, as well. I’m afraid that there comes a time when evil takes upon a new form of vehemence, in which, like burnt offering, it rises to the heavens, creating a repugnant sensation that arouses the ire of God. And that time, like scriptural narratives of old (“The Plagues of Egypt,” “Sodom and Gomorrah,” “The Flood of Noah”) might be upon us.

Atheists, Agnostics, bear with me.

In the religious world, fasting is regarded a salient tool of self-correction when the body, mind, and spirit is out of sync with life’s purpose. Fasting, as a result of deprivation and diligence, works to keep at bay the recklessness and recalcitrance leading the believer down the slope of self-destruction, replacing it with meekness and morality.

Incidentally, 1 billion Muslims around the world just commenced an annual month-long fast a couple of days ago, traditionally known as Ramadan, to attain the highest level of spirituality—“God-consciousness.” But the practice of fasting isn’t indigenous to Islam. All three Abrahamic religious traditions have at their core the belief that sacrifice, especially of the flesh, is a great remediation in time of excessiveness.

On September 21st, members of the Jewish faith would be fasting in remembrance of Gedaliah ben Achikam, governor of the First Jewish Commonwealth in the Holy Land, who, according to reports, was assassinated in 423 BCE. 6 days later, most Jews would observe Yom Kippur, “Day of Atonement,” a 25-hour fast to purge all sin and shame the previous year might have accumulated.

My Judeo-Christian background introduced me early on to the gifts of fasting. I was required, then, to fast as regularly as possible. As with most other things in life, I hated being forced to do it, then, but can’t stop doing it, now. I found out that it sharpens the mind, diminishes distractions, and amplifies self-control—essential tools to survive in this spiritually bankrupt world of ours.