What finally made him see, he says, was the passing of J Dilla, the revered hip-hop producer, on February 10, 2006. They’d just talked on the phone, D’Angelo says, when suddenly, J Dilla was gone at 32 after a long battle with lupus. It was like a blinding light had been switched on. Why did so many black artists die so young? He’d been haunted by this thought for years. Marvin. Jimi. Biggie. “I felt like I was going to be next. I ain’t bullshitting. I was scared then,” he says, recalling how shame engulfed him, preventing him from attending the funeral. “I was so fucked-up, I couldn’t go.”
Shame, guilt, repentance—D’Angelo knows them well. To say that he was raised religious doesn’t begin to capture it. He’s the son and the grandson of Pentecostal preachers. To D’Angelo, good and evil are not abstract concepts but tangible forces he reckons with every day. In his life and in his music, he has always felt the tension between the sacred and the profane, the darkness and the light.
“You know what they say about Lucifer, right, before he was cast out?” D’Angelo asks me now. “Every angel has their specialty, and his was praise. They say that he could play every instrument with one finger and that the music was just awesome. And he was exceptionally beautiful, Lucifer—as an angel, he was.”
But after he descended into hell, Lucifer was fearsome, he tells me. “There’s forces that are going on that I don’t think a lot of motherfuckers that make music today are aware of,” he says. “It’s deep. I’ve felt it. I’ve felt other forces pulling at me.” He stubs out his cigarette and leans toward me, taking my hand. “This is a very powerful medium that we are involved in,” he says gravely. “I learned at an early age that what we were doing in the choir was just as important as the preacher. It was a ministry in itself. We could stir the pot, you know? The stage is our pulpit, and you can use all of that energy and that music and the lights and the colors and the sound. But you know, you’ve got to be careful.”
Many pop artists weren’t even raised in the church of Christ (note that many of them were raised in The Industry), so they have no clue about the light side of the spiritual realm - let alone how to protect one’s soul and physical body against “dark forces”. How do you sing soul music with a
dead compromised soul? Instead of praying for artists to return to hell on earth to satisfy their craving for new music, followers fans should pray for the artists’ soul salvation - like Whitney requested (and people ignored to mock her).
Jacob Clifton, recapper of “The Good Wife”
Jacob is an anti-religious, liberal gay white man (born under an aries - 1st developmental level of the zodiac - sun) from Austin, Texas. Shocker, right? Not at all.
His lumping of “all” people at his level of moral and ethical development is exactly why I don’t trust people who don’t believe in - and don’t possess a healthy fear of - the power of an omniscient God and who don’t understand how universal law aka karma works.
He’s right about how self-justification influences (read: strips away, prevents) moral development. But his conclusion is reflective of his opinion (knowledge of the world + knowledge of himself) that “no one” is above acting as low as he thinks “everyone” acts.
I know that if the wallet has ID in it and you don’t return it, then you will lose even more than you gained from keeping the wallet. That’s enough higher perspective + self-interest motivation to do the right thing for someone above the 1st level of moral development, not to mention that we would want our wallets returned to us and this is just the objective right thing to do.