Time sure flies when you're saving the world ...

Just over twelve months ago, Commissioner Gordon picked up the phone and called a man who he had replaced at Rap Pages as Managing Editor to invite the ronin to write the column you now see. Now, while many people have come and gone at said magazine, and said ronin would have been an excellent addition to the staff, its his loosely affiliated column that has been the bane of the lazy, the weak and the stupid. Could better effect have been achieved from the offices of Flynt Publications? Who's to say? In any case consider this reminiscence a clip show from your favorite sitcom because the writers wanna lounge. For the best view of this, peep it online (hyperlinks rock, and you can see all the columns instead of digging through your closet).

Waxing nostalgic, the operative starts flipping through old issues.

The first Damage Control, flying under the Rakim cover, looked really bad.

The operative sighs, and owns up to it.

Communication wasn't bangin' yet, and the opaque text reminded some of Buc Wild (yo, son, where you at? Holler!). It was a necessary cornerstone for the thunderstorms to come. Besides, art direction has improved dramatically since then.

Under the NWA Reunion cover in February, the logo made its first appearance, and things were starting to settle down. That Douglas Adams quote from Mostly Harmless still states the methods of an operative better than almost anything else. Radio took the hit, but we still have to set up individual personalities coast to coast (Tom Joyner, Theo, we comin' for that ass).

March's narrative Valentine's roundup showed a more introspective operative and the boys, openly speaking as men can when not intruded upon by the fairer sex. If you're gay, nothing personal, but the operative kicks it straight hetero, baby. Solid stuff here.

Somehow, Damage Control disappeared until June (possibly some office static, the columns were done), where we discussed the essentials of a bangin' live show. The operative nodded over at homie J-Smoov, who had also returned the month prior with B-Boy Kingdom after the horrible hampton era at Rap Pages. Things were looking up, the format was tightening up by then, and the magazine was again finding its voice after being saddled with wackness (Thanks Donna Hahner for letting that hooker screw up the magazine!)

July was when things got really hot. The format was finally close to its present tight form (word to 'Dre), and the operative named names, speaking on several hip hop journalists who were (in his skinny opinion) wack. Those names, again, were: Mike Gonzales, Carlos Nino, Mark Armstron, Matt Diehl, Darryl James, and early Meshaq Blaq. Boy did this get fools heated.

The format slipped a bit in August, where the operative admitted to killing Tupac and apologized for not killing Fatal. Some thought this was motivated by a publicist at Relativity stiffing him on a Common ticket for his little sister, but trust us, Fatal is wack. Oddly enough, no death threats this month.

In September we looked good again as the column called for the retirement of Heavy D, LL, and Rakim. A few weeks afterwards, LL acquiesced and retired, showing the good this column can do. Plus, Canibus was about to toast his ass soon as Clef quits underproducing the boy.

In a dramatic about face, Damage Control gave props in October (you can't clown people all year ... well, you can, but hey), big upping a whole lotta fools doin' it right. This probably won't happen again for another year November led to a roundup of late night talk shows, giving props to the black master of the game Arsenio, who is worthy of being spoken of in the same breath with OG John Carson, and clowning every other sad attempt. Finally, we end up with December, tellin' the truth on the major hip hop magazines (including this one), probably insuring a quiet phone for a minute.

It was a crazy year, and so much more exists to be done. Damage Control intends to be sure you're all on the right page (like Lauryn Hill, Xzibit, the Artifacts, Aceyalone, etc.) and continue to slap those on the wrong page (don't take it personal Nino, Vibe still stinks for not paying a mofo, let's do this debate online Mark Armstrong, please please please retire Q-Tip, wack record company promotions, ad infinitum).

Just when you thought it was safe ...

OPERATIVE'S POSTSCRIPT: Yeah, yeah, yeah, we missed one column in this supposedly thorough wrap up. "Will Smith Must Die," it was an early column and our filing system wasn't that tight. Oh well. Bygones.

Likewise, the operative always planned to hook this up with links, but 1) is mad busy and 2) has a gallery for that. Who knew?