The Truth

My hip-hop hero exists deep in the heart of the city, living in a two-room apartment full of spraypaint, newspapers, and once-discarded televisions set to 24-hour news stations. Not very glamorous, right? It gets better. Our hero is constantly searching for lies perpetrated by the mass-media - the spin and mistruths commonly held as fact. He has an acute mind that picks them out so fast that it would make your head spin. He doesn't just rest on it, however - in his black hoodie, nondescript jeans, and secondhand sneakers, he descends from the steps of his complex, paint cans hidden safely where no one can see. Then, his real powers can be seen - the man who no one remembers (but is really all around us) bravely climbs train bridges and billboards with his sticky hands, tagging trains and signs so all can see. He never leaves a signature, though, and the only way to know it is him is to look for the concept in his writing that is the moniker given to him by cops, civilians, and bureaucrats everywhere - The Truth.