The musico-industrial complex

Black culture, writes Dalrymple, is

a conspiracy to keep blacks (actually, Jamaicans) in a state of helotry — as a reserve army of reluctant casual labourers.

A few,

possessed of minimal talent and little different from the rest, become very rich, though few hang on to their money because of the very ‘culture’ of which they are both the creators and the victims.

Stardom these days is awarded

not to exceptional people but to mediocrities, in order to keep the rest of the population daydreaming rather than forming proper and realisable ambitions.

The output of the musico-industrial complex

reinforces and makes actual the stereotype of the Jamaican as a man of small brain but large appetites, with a powerful though primitive sense of rhythm.

These qualities

are not very useful in social ascent: on the contrary, they inhibit it. It is therefore no accident that rap music is lionised in our Press, even taken seriously as a genuine rather than as an ersatz and prefabricated, that is to say industrialised, cry of protest from the streets.

It is time, says Dalrymple, that blacks broke free of

the musically and bureaucratically forged manacles that keep them forever subordinate, marginalised and criminalised.

The poor are a goldmine,

and so are the Jamaicans — for the record companies and welfare bureaucracies alike.

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