Post by dawyked on Nov 29, 2005 23:29:52 GMT 1
Rapper Jon Forte moves from recording studio to jail cell.
Victims of the Drug War often have little or no concept of the battle being waged until they find themselves in the eye of the storm. One such case is that of John Forte, a talented rapper and musician who first came to attention as a member of the Fugees' extended Refugee Camp stable of artists. Brooklyn-born and a graduate of the prestigious Phillips Exeter Academy, Forte's career seemed destined for great heights. His 1999 Sony debut album, Poly-Sci, proved a disappointment sales-wise, so Forte parlayed his good standing in Manhattan's nightlife into a second career as a party promoter and DJ whose shindigs attracted many celebrities and were the talk of the town. All this crashed to a halt in 2001 when he was busted at John F. Kennedy International Airport and charged with accepting a briefcase containing $1.4 million worth of liquid cocaine. While on trial, he completed a second album, I, John, a reflective and philosophical rumination on his life, before being sentenced to 14 years in a Texas prison.
As Forte continues to appeal his conviction and attempts to promote his album from behind bars, he admits that he's had plenty of time to consider the political dimension of his situation. "I was utterly and completely ignorant to the War on Drugs prior to my arrest, trial, and conviction," Forte writes in an email interview. "Not only have I learned first hand what it means to be a target, I am reminded daily of the gross injustices imposed on helpless men and women at the mercy of hypocrisy and deceit. The sentences for non-violent, first-time offenders rival that of rapists and murderers. It's disgusting."
The irony of Forte's arrest, trial, and conviction resides in the fact that he had always put forth a persona of the intellectual who likes a good party. The "thug-gangsta" role was not for him, nor did he have a need to constantly reaffirm his street credibility. Forte is, after all, a private school product who studied violin, spent summers on Martha's Vineyard, and counts Carly Simon among his closest friends and supporters (Simon appears on I, John). "Irony may have in fact become my middle name," he explains. "Not only is it hard for me at times to make any sense out of the past couple of years, but my peers in here mention the oddity of it all as well. I'm sure there would have been a time when ‘credibility' meant something to me, but the heart of popular culture is impermanent and too fragile to lose sleep over."
Forte pleaded not guilty to the drug trafficking charges, claiming that he had no idea what the suitcase contained, and that he was just picking up money for a friend. Although the upscale Manhattan club scene, which he was an integral part of, is known for its widespread drug culture, Forte maintains that he's never partaken of it. Now, as he pays a steep price for a serious crime he says he didn't knowingly commit, his outlook has turned more philosophical: "Life goes on and this is yet another hurdle to overcome. My thoughts as of late are focused on freedom and a quality of life not governed by the collective, complacent consciousness of the masses."
The less swaggering, more humble nature of his work on the new album is obviously not a coincidence, as Forte readily admits, "I, John came at a crossroad in my life and it helped me deal with the hugeness and gravity of the United States versus me. I am grateful that the gods allowed me to find a voice to complement the struggle. Evolution was proven to be possible if not mandatory in the face of adversity."
Hopefully, the story of John Forte will help provide an impetus to the evolution in America's treatment of nonviolent first-time drug offenders.
Victims of the Drug War often have little or no concept of the battle being waged until they find themselves in the eye of the storm. One such case is that of John Forte, a talented rapper and musician who first came to attention as a member of the Fugees' extended Refugee Camp stable of artists. Brooklyn-born and a graduate of the prestigious Phillips Exeter Academy, Forte's career seemed destined for great heights. His 1999 Sony debut album, Poly-Sci, proved a disappointment sales-wise, so Forte parlayed his good standing in Manhattan's nightlife into a second career as a party promoter and DJ whose shindigs attracted many celebrities and were the talk of the town. All this crashed to a halt in 2001 when he was busted at John F. Kennedy International Airport and charged with accepting a briefcase containing $1.4 million worth of liquid cocaine. While on trial, he completed a second album, I, John, a reflective and philosophical rumination on his life, before being sentenced to 14 years in a Texas prison.
As Forte continues to appeal his conviction and attempts to promote his album from behind bars, he admits that he's had plenty of time to consider the political dimension of his situation. "I was utterly and completely ignorant to the War on Drugs prior to my arrest, trial, and conviction," Forte writes in an email interview. "Not only have I learned first hand what it means to be a target, I am reminded daily of the gross injustices imposed on helpless men and women at the mercy of hypocrisy and deceit. The sentences for non-violent, first-time offenders rival that of rapists and murderers. It's disgusting."
The irony of Forte's arrest, trial, and conviction resides in the fact that he had always put forth a persona of the intellectual who likes a good party. The "thug-gangsta" role was not for him, nor did he have a need to constantly reaffirm his street credibility. Forte is, after all, a private school product who studied violin, spent summers on Martha's Vineyard, and counts Carly Simon among his closest friends and supporters (Simon appears on I, John). "Irony may have in fact become my middle name," he explains. "Not only is it hard for me at times to make any sense out of the past couple of years, but my peers in here mention the oddity of it all as well. I'm sure there would have been a time when ‘credibility' meant something to me, but the heart of popular culture is impermanent and too fragile to lose sleep over."
Forte pleaded not guilty to the drug trafficking charges, claiming that he had no idea what the suitcase contained, and that he was just picking up money for a friend. Although the upscale Manhattan club scene, which he was an integral part of, is known for its widespread drug culture, Forte maintains that he's never partaken of it. Now, as he pays a steep price for a serious crime he says he didn't knowingly commit, his outlook has turned more philosophical: "Life goes on and this is yet another hurdle to overcome. My thoughts as of late are focused on freedom and a quality of life not governed by the collective, complacent consciousness of the masses."
The less swaggering, more humble nature of his work on the new album is obviously not a coincidence, as Forte readily admits, "I, John came at a crossroad in my life and it helped me deal with the hugeness and gravity of the United States versus me. I am grateful that the gods allowed me to find a voice to complement the struggle. Evolution was proven to be possible if not mandatory in the face of adversity."
Hopefully, the story of John Forte will help provide an impetus to the evolution in America's treatment of nonviolent first-time drug offenders.
