I discovered Rap Snacks where I find most things of consequence: the bulk-candy aisle of Big Lots. Scavenging for bargains on Take 5 bars—three for a buck, mission accomplished—I glanced to find, sharing shelf space with Chester Cheeto, the visage of Dirt McGirt, a.k.a. Ol’ Dirty Bastard. Then I read the words “Rap Snacks” and lost control of several of my nastiest organs. Here, next to pallet-sized boxes of Double Bubble, was, I thought, a monumentally ludicrous example of corporate integration/exploitation of youth culture. Turns out it isn’t a big snack company like Frito Lay or Dow Chemical that puts out Rap Snacks, but a man named James Lindsay, who uses the snacks to make a few bucks and encourage kids to stay in school and stay off drugs. (Why he chose chips, a drug mainstay, to do the latter is beyond me.) On each bag featuring a hip-hop star and their particular chip style you’ll find exhalations to “Think Responsibly” (McGirt’s Sour Cream and Onion), “Start Your Own Business” (Master P’s Platinum Bar-B-Q chips), and “Pimp Education” (Murphy Lee’s Red Hot Riplets). Now, I know your next question: “How do they taste? Do they have flava?” Number one, you’re an ass for asking that way. Second, do I look like the kind of person who would defile such a totem of modern culture for a few moments of salty pleasure? You see, this is not a “Buy Curious” about a great snack but one about a terrific ironic home-accent piece. Since I have placed Rap Snacks on my kitchen counter, it’s never failed to catch someone’s eye and launch a discussion about the absurd lengths to which capitalism drives people. It also sparks the question: “Hey, isn’t he dead?” Indeed, ODB, whose real name was Russell Jones, died nearly three years ago. But at least his bag of snacks lives on . . . well, according to the bag’s freshness label, until August. AVAILABLE AT BIG LOTS 2238 N BELLFLOWER BLVD | LONG BEACH 90815 | RAPSNACKS.COM