sean puffy combs

All About Race: Sean Combs and the Secret to His Success

Tuesday, March 10th, 2009

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Push past the “swagga”, the mind swirling name changes and the amped-up persona as the musical King of Bling, and you’ll that Sean Combs is brilliant. In a quietly riveting new interview pegged to the 12th Anniversary of the death of Notorious B.I.G., aka Christopher Wallace, blogger Barry Michael Cooper conducts a wide ranging interview that gives those of us watching an up close look at what excellence and creative vision looks like. We learn how Combs’ mind works and his process is illuminating. This segment on the Making of Ready to Die is getting the most hype because Combs confirms that on one of the interludes, Biggie is actually having sex. But I suggest you listen to how Combs guides Biggie’s music choices and why.

Again, in this segment listen to how Combs spends his spare time making beats, perfecting his ear and his producing skills. Combs closely studied how movies were put together and scored and the rules of storytelling. He says he didn’t want to wait for things to happen.


My constant frustration with so many high profile black entertainers and athletes is that they don’t emphasize the hard work, focus and discipline it takes to achieve success. Cooper’s interview is a great step in the right direction. I left a comment for Mr. Cooper and this is what I said: “This is a remarkable post and interview. This is what success looks like when the lights go down. I hope this interview inspires countless young people to hunker down and become excellent at something they love to do. Peace” Do yourself a favor, head on over and watch this entire interview. I found it inspiring on my own road to excellence, I hope you find the same.

Check It OutOnce Upon A Time in America: Sean Combs

This post originally appeared courtesy of Carmen Dixon’s All About Race.

Oh what tangled webs we weave when we try to make it skinny

Tuesday, April 8th, 2008

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In the wake of the scandal surrounding the LATimes’ coverage of Tupac Shakur’s death and the related Sean “Puffy” Combs’ “conspiracy,” I keep thinking about all these accusations of “unprofessional journalism” and the lack of “appropriate verification.” Is it readers’ disappointment? Self-loathing on the part of the Times? Other media outlet’s schadenfreude? Perhaps all of the above. Journalism’s commitment to the truth, and the public’s right to know it should lead to that kind of buzz. But…

…I used to be a particularly self-righteous finger-wagging reader, the kind who leapt onto every journalistic mistake, saying “We are owed better; this is embarrassing.” But now that I’m learning about the day-to-day rhythm of journalism, the rigor, the deadlines, the dead *ends* and the ever-present possibility of error under-pressure, is it really fair of me, or any of us, for that matter, to harbor such resentment toward the Times and its reporter, Chuck Philips?

I hope not to be biased. I worked at the Times for a year, and I maintain only good memories of the experience, but my “step back” from accusation doesn’t only apply to the Times. As a working journalist, my respect for the veterans has grown. But I also have to say that the Times’ swift, unprecedented apology shows 1) a surprising integrity, and 2) perhaps that feverish worry now plaguing the print media. The “if we don’t abase ourselves, make ourselves unimpeachable, how will the already waning interest reignite?” “Print is dying” is something readers and writers alike are saying. TV is more digestible, the web seductive and timely in its information distribution.

I don’t shy away from the web frenzy; hell, look where I’m writing from. I’m in a glasshouse if there ever was anyone in one. But even as an online-addicted individual, working for that online “man,” I can’t help being sad… not just because the death knell of print could very well be the end of an era and what was once thought of as “modernity,” but because there’s something…elegant, beautiful and private about interacting, much as the term is now applied to the internet, with paper and the little black dots gracing each page.

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