It's been a year of the Great Pandemic of 2020.
Deep Ellum is now a hip-hop fueled dystopia of ghetto culture, assholes, drag racers, rogue 4-wheelers, street bikes, ricers, Instagram "models", wanna-be rappers, and as usual, white frat boys from SMU.
Live music is nearly dead, save for the one Hendrix-inspired guitarist that still plays on the street with a pickup band of drums and bass in front of Brain Dead Brewery.
Trees is still largely shuttered. The other large music venues are still closed, or operating at minimal capacity (Mama Tried, Doublewide, The Bomb Factory and its sister-venue next door); most bars don't have a live band - if they have anything at all, it's a hip-hop "DJ" playing songs they didn't write glorifying growing up poor, dealing drugs, getting shot for your trouble, and possibly dying, all the while complaining about their condition and the "systemic racism" that caused it.
It's all bullshit.
This area isn't the same as it was in December 2019, or even January or February 2020 - it's a counterfeit, a hollowed-out shell, a skin suit of its former corpse worn by imposters, poseurs, and pretenders.
It's dead.
I'm out.
