When the darkness descends, and the final Co-Bo has closed, even the ghetto is compelled to ponder the nature of its existence. Is it nothing but a well-worn cliché, a dead horse waiting to be chopped up and smothered in General Tso's sauce? Are the self-perpetuating stereotypes a product of exploitative ignorance, or simply the reflection of the beast's unwavering eyes staring back from the abyss? (Huh? What??) Do the tears we shed laughing at the latest Hallmark Holla™ mask an anguish so deep we dare not share it outside the context of a set-up and punchline? The Last Ghetto is where all the question marks come to roost. It is where the chaos in the ghetto's soul is silenced so that it can give birth to a calm, lobotomizingly-soothing black hole of a column.The Last Man [wiki]
Ghetto Pass [Gawker]
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