Two Fridays ago, I celebrated my 70th birthday. Well, that’s merely my chronological age. I’d like to believe that my biological age is much, much younger. Fun and joke aside, I’ve been reflecting on some of the lessons I’ve learned over the last seventy years that are particularly relevant in these dread times.
It's the same old story. Environmental disaster highlights class divisions.
A decade ago, when ‘Til Shiloh was released, Buju’s bondage was metaphorical. Today, it’s all too literal. Having foolishly exposed his weakness – running up his mouth with a stranger – Mark Myrie is paying a terrible penalty. He’s facing the prospect of incarceration for fifteen years.
What's good for the poet should be good for the DJ too. But 'jackass seh di world no level'. And it's true. Every 'chune' a DJ chants is interpreted as a literal statement of fact by dim-witted cynics. Unlike the poet, the DJ is not allowed to wear a mask and play roles.
That’s one of the big issues with the male condom. Women are often afraid to open negotiations about its use. But, surely, if a woman is prepared to open her legs, how hard can it be for her to open her mouth and ensure that she is protected against sexually transmitted diseases?
We have come to expect ‘phalluses’ not ‘fallacies’ in dancehall lyrics. But this is precisely the dominant fallacy: that dancehall culture is all body and no mind.
Jamaica Woman Tongue 