Joe Jukic and Madonna sat in the dim studio, the lights low, the bass warm and heavy. KRS-One’s voice filled the air — “The Odyssey” unfolding like a myth reborn, the Templars of Hip Hop conjuring ancient power with every bar. The moment Excalibur was mentioned, the room seemed to vibrate, as though some old, forgotten magic approved of its name being spoken again.
Joe closed his eyes and let the lyrics run through him. Hip hop as sacred geometry. Hip hop as initiation. KRS-One sounding less like a rapper and more like Merlin with a microphone.
Madonna leaned back, watching Joe take it in. She’d lived long enough, seen enough, to recognize when a force — musical, mythic, or otherwise — was speaking through the world.
When the chorus hit, she tapped Joe’s shoulder and said quietly:
“You know, Joe… with great power comes great responsibility.”
Joe smirked.
“Spider-Man?”
Madonna shook her head slowly.
“No. That line is older than comics. Older than Marvel. It’s a truth that goes back to every king who ever picked up a sword — especially a sword like Excalibur.”
Joe nodded, feeling the weight of her words.
The song continued, KRS-One proclaiming knowledge as the true weapon, the true blade.
Madonna continued:
“Hip hop is Excalibur now. Knowledge is Excalibur. Words are Excalibur. And if you’re going to pick up a weapon like that — if you’re going to speak truth, cut through lies, and shape people’s minds — you have to treat it like a sacred duty.”
Joe breathed in.
He understood.
KRS-One’s voice cracked through the speakers:
“Teach the youth… guide the lost… protect the culture…”
Madonna placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder — just briefly, as if passing the sword itself.
“Use your voice like a blade,” she said. “But never forget: Excalibur chooses the one who wields it.”