A Reminder That the Revolution Will Not Be Televised

But we already have the blueprint for action.

A few weeks ago, I shared a note on Substack about my private YouTube playlists:

The idea for this practice came shortly after the release of Judas and the Black Messiah (2021), the “biographical” crime drama about the betrayal and assassination of Fred Hampton, the 21-year-old Chairman of the Chicago chapter of the Black Panther Party. Although I enjoyed the film, the best critique of it was encapsulated in a quote from a fellow Bruin alum, George Turner, who said something to the effect of “This movie is like if in 60 years someone made a movie, not about Nipsey Hussle, but about the guy who killed him.” At the time, Hussle’s tragic death was still very fresh in my heart and mind, so this analogy really resonated with me.

The stories we choose to tell and the vantage points we choose to prioritize are so important. Media texts have such a profound capacity to shape or frame how we view history, culture, and politics, and I firmly believe that this power can not and should not be taken lightly. This film is billed as biographical, but what do we make of a biographical film that not only decenters the presumed star but also shifts our animosity from the people who carried out the assassination to the people who look like us who were hired to carry out the sinister plans? Media texts are able to enact these subtle shifts just below our awareness, and that capacity to quietly promote revisionist history is dangerous.

After processing the film, I vented to my friend Kenyada about how Fred Hampton was lost in all of it. At the same time, Jay-Z, who contributed a song to the soundtrack and was involved in the film’s production and marketing somehow (I can’t remember), was, in my opinion, engaged in openly defaming Hampton and his legacy.

In an older song, “Murder to Excellence” (2011) with Kanye West, Jay-Z raps: “I arrived on the day Fred Hampton died, uh/Real niggas just multiply/And they say by 21, I was supposed to die/So I’m out here celebrating my post-demise.” This reference, coupled with other interviews where he talks about the divine timing of his birth and Hampton’s assassination, comes across as Jay-Z alluding to himself as being a continuation of Hampton’s legacy— a crazy proposition if you know as little as the first thing about Fred Hampton’s politics. Hampton, as well as the rest of the Black Panther Party, were staunch anti-capitalists, and Jay-Z is extremely pro-capitalist. Around the same time as this film’s release, Jay-Z infamously mentioned in a Twitter spaces conversation that the term “capitalist” is being used like a “slur” and is akin to the “n-word.” He also tried to tie this presumed “injustice” to social justice issues by making the claim that the term “capitalist” wasn’t used in this defamatory way until Black folks started getting money. Not only is this completely incorrect and ahistorical, it is disrespectful to the words and work of our ancestors. However, the ever-prescient Fred Hampton, at just 21 years old, forewarned us about this phenomenon in his words about why political education is so important:

“There has to be an educational program-- that’s very important. As a matter of fact, it is so important to us that a person has to go through six weeks of political education before we can consider himself a member of the Party, able to even run our ideology for the Party? Why? Because if they don’t have an education, then, they’re nowhere. You dig what I’m sayin’? They’re nowhere; because, they don’t even know why they doin’ what they doin’. You might get people caught up in the emotions of the movement. You understand me? You might get them caught up because they’re poor and they want something. And then if he’s not educated, they’ll want more and before you know it, they’ll be capitalist and before you know it we’ll have negro imperialism.” -Fred Hampton.

We live in a universe where Black capitalists and imperialists not only exist and thrive but also attempt to present themselves as the legacy or continuation of our activist ancestors. They falsely equate racial and social justice with their own wealth-driven insulation from society, trying to convince us that this is the only—or perhaps the best—path to freedom.

My friend Yada reminded me that these kinds of blatant yet popular distortions are why she tries to stay rooted in the words of our ancestors-- whether that be written or verbal. She mentioned having a YouTube playlist of revolutionary Black activists and political thinkers that she watched like TV as another way to stay grounded in reality.

In the wake of the 2025 Super Bowl halftime performance, I am reminded of why this practice is so important. During the show, Gil Scott Heron’s quote “The Revolution Will Not be Televised” was invoked but in a way that was completely counterintuitive to the original meaning. I’m unsure of how Kendrick intended to use it and do not wish to try to interpret it but the quote “The revolution about to be televised. You picked the right time but the wrong guy” doesn’t seem to be related to Gil Scott Heron’s meaning at all. It just seemed like a “powerful” thing to say in a moment of spectacle but I want to leave this video here for folks to sit with his thoughts on the meaning of the phrase:

The invocation and reinterpretation of the quote itself, on the Super Bowl stage, is a reminder of the limits of entertainment spectacle, especially when they’re not coupled with political education/awareness. It’s how a quote gets presented out of context, and then popularized in a way that devalues its intent and original meaning. Some might argue that the use of the word and the remix were symbolic but if “symbolism,” “going over people’s heads,” and “political undertones” is the bar, then the bar is on the floor.

Please don’t get me confused here, this is not a critique of the artist because Kendrick Lamar is going to do what Kendrick Lamar does-- make good music and art within the confines of what’s commercially acceptable. He’s going to edge on a boundary here and there but not rock any political boats. He literally keeps reminding people that he isn’t this person you’re elevating him to be. However, this is meant to open up a conversation about his starved fans who desperately want something to give them hope. They’re grasping at straws with a sanitized, pre-screened, pre-approved Super Bowl show because it’s what they’ve been conditioned to see, acknowledge, and recognize as having political depth.

This gray area is just as dangerous as letting Jay-Z tell you that the deal he cut with the NFL to clean up their image post-Colin Kaepernick was an act of racial/social justice.

A high school friend, Kashif Davis, messaged me about this today:

“We should be collectively boycotting the NFL but that isn’t going to happen.” In response I joked, “This is Jay-Z’s fault. Can’t wait until we get to the point where we can discuss that man’s politics openly.” He responded by saying“Even without Jay Z sports and entertainment is something collectively, we’re just not willing to give up. But I agree we need to get into his and hell Beyonce’s politics or lack there of.”

This resonated with me because I’m certainly guilty of enjoying the things I want to enjoy because why not? My rationale has always been that I just can’t go through this world joyless, I need something. I need the distraction and sometimes, I feel that my awareness of that it is indeed all distraction clears my guilt for engaging in it. Deep down, I know it really doesn’t. But I followed up with an even more pressing question I’ve had on my mind:

“You know I’m going to defend Beyonce here but… serious question… what do we do about all these less than educated artists who truly think they’re making profound political statements? Because I think Beyonce really thinks she’s pulling important/impactful political stunts… Kendrick too with the Uncle Sam Jackson/American flag “subversion” like… is their room to meet artists where they are and bridge that into something real? Because throwing them and their fans away for what they don’t know doesn’t seem to work either.”

I asked this because I exist in so many spaces-- academic spaces where the many of the people who look like me are hostile toward lower class Black folks (whether they openly admit it, realize it for themselves or not), Far leftist spaces where the pressure is real to disengage from the “bread and circus” spectacle of “The Culture Industry” (and for good reason!), and the neoliberals who populate my timeline who often share the same disdain for lower class folks but also engage in the superficial, egocentric “representation matters” brand of politics that’s so vapid its comical.

“I hope that’s clear what I’m asking” I followed up after a beat of thinking.

“I think I get what you’re saying,” Kashif responded. “Fred Hampton, at 21 years old, was able to unite folks with vastly opposing views by finding common ground, and I believe that’s all we need to do. From short and long-term strategic alliances. Even with our own people. I feel like a lot of times its an all or nothing approach when we’re talking about Black liberation.”

We talked more about my frustrations and desire to figure out what this looks like practically. To which my friend responded: “We already got the blueprint. BPP. Just needs revision.”

“You know I kind of hate and love that I always arrive at this answer.”

“Niggaz want something new and fancy lol. We already got something old that works.”

I’ve been told that there is no potential to engage commercial artists in producing revolutionary work/art because of the confines of capitalism but my hearts wants to hold out hope that there is some way. Would love your thoughts on this below in the comments section. -Brooklyne