Word: kingston
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Moreover, there are positive role models for Asian men. In traditional Chinese thinking, learning and negotiation were the preferred paths to true manhood. More modern roles can be found in characters like "My Grandfather" in Red Sorghum or Wittman Ah Sing in Maxine Hong Kingston's Tripmaster Monkey and in the work of writers like David Mura, Gus Lee and David Wong Louie. They are not always the heroes we would like them to be, but they are appealing, active, sexual, powerful people...
...surprised that Allen C. Soong had such strong feelings about the portrayal of men in "The Joy Luck Club" that he felt compelled to write an editorial about it. While he refrains from making the outrageously venomous comments that author Frank Chin directed at Maxine Hong Kingston for supposedly maligning Chinese men, Soong similarly mistakes a focus on Asian female voices for the erasure of Asian men's diversity...
...Marley, a poor Jamaican from Kingston's Trenchtown slum, who brought reggae to international prominence in the '70s with his albums Catch a Fire, Rastaman Vibration and Exodus. An outspoken champion of racial equality and social justice, Marley was also a tireless promoter of Rastafarianism, the pro-African sect whose followers grow their hair into long, matted dreadlocks and smoke marijuana, or ganja, as part of a religious rite...
After Marley died of a brain tumor in 1981 at 36, a new generation of Trenchtown youths began to forge a harder, denser style of reggae called dancehall. Reflecting the desperate times in Kingston's ghettos, dancehall lyrics were charged with angry diatribes glorifying guns, drugs and sex, and sung often in a fast, talky style called "toasting." On Minute to Pray, Mad Cobra warns, "Original bad boy have no mercy/ Original bad boy run the country/ Them get a minute to pray and a second to die . . . We no miss the target...
This white Canadian ragamuffin's blazing debut album, Twelve Inches of Snow, fuses Jamaican dance hall and American hip-hop into the irresistibly slick mix many other musicians have been aiming for. SNOW'S groove-heavy beats and scatlike raps are burning up the charts from Kingston to New York to Toronto. Darrin O'Brien, who would rather be known by his ghetto moniker, Snow, is an alumnus of Toronto's housing projects and the Ontario penal system. Rap elitists who remember Vanilla Ice may doubt Snow's street credentials. But they need only listen to Snow...