It is excruciatingly hot in my room. Luckily, it is only my room for three more days. Yesterday, I walked all the way from Queen and Bathurst to Kensington Market with my flatmate Nicholas Bernier (congratulations Nick on your first Google appearance) where Pedestrian Sundays was in full swing. There was a Samba squad, life-sized Scrabble, women dancing and a rickshaw. I ran into old Vancouver friends, Mike and Nadav.

"...voyage and narrative are twins because both signify a displacement, an abandonment of the place, the plaza, a farewell to the common place and a plunge into the territories of risk, adventure, discovery, the unusual."
-Carlos Fuentes

Two days ago Cliff and I bought some beer. We went back to my place and sat on the roof. On the way up we saw my flatmate's cat, Astrid. I posed with the Toronto skyline. It was a lot of fun.

Rick Ross v. the State

I'm still in Toronto trying to get my shit together before leaving and watching a lot of BET. One of the most refreshing videos lately is Hustlin' by Rick Ross. Instead of the fetishization of corporate power that you see in the work of someone like Jay-Z, Hustlin' is an homage to the informal economy.

Jay-Z takes the typical rap image of crime boss and switches it so that his persona is that of a legitimate capitalist. He is as much revered for his skills on the mic, now, as he is for being the leader of a business empire. In the all too familiar rap game of one upmanship, Jay-Z has fashioned himself as the most powerful kind of person one can be in this global economy, a CEO.

Rick Ross doesn’t play those games. The intro to Hustlin’ has Ross in Miami’s glamorous South Beach with fancy cars and girls in bikinis. It quickly switches locations as Ross drives across the bridge and growls, “this is the real Miami.” In a dusty sun baked place with no beach, a large woman sells onions out of the back of her van and dread locked kids run beside the car selling candy bars. If you’ve ever been anywhere in the underdeveloped world this is familiar stuff, people hawking food, crafts and whatever. They’re working in the informal economy: work that’s “unregulated by the institutions of society, in a legal and social environment in which similar activities are regulated.”

In Asia, on average, 65 per cent of nonagricultural workers are informally employed, in sub-Saharan Africa 72 per cent. In developed countries, it’s about 15 per cent. These are the people that Rick Ross is championing. He’s not just talking about selling drugs either, the people in his video are selling cheap electronics, taking bets, and prostituting themselves. Instead of showing them in a disparaging light however, informal work or “hustlin” becomes a way of empowerment.

The young woman leads the man out of the club by his tie and is later counting her cash. The dread locked guy shows a family his van full of appliances; the daughter smiles as she buys a brand new cellphone. In a way, these are all visions of the future. As the gap between rich and poor grows in America, more people are being pushed into this kind of work everyday. At a time when a Wal-Mart/McJob gives you no benefits and next to no pay, Rick Ross is saying, fuck Jay-Z and his “American Dream” propaganda. Real life, “the real Miami” is in the streets hustlin’.

The best part, however, is that there’s not a single “conscious rap” cliché in the whole thing, it’s pure and rugged Florida Crunk of the Trick Daddy variety. Notice the red banners waving in the breeze near the end. You think? Nah?