Doing these parts is not fun. It's challenging, but no fun. It's creepy. I would rather play the guy that throws the touchdown pass and gets carried off the field.
Repudiating the virtues of your world, criminals hopelessly agree to organize a forbidden universe. They agree to live in it. The air there is nauseating: they can breathe it.
But I must own that I also felt stirred by an unselfish desire to voice all the joys and sorrows, the hopes and ambitions, of the American Negro, in classic musical form.