From Montego Bay to Metropolis: A Philosopher’s Lament for the Arts

From Montego Bay to Metropolis: A Philosophical Threnody for the Arts

Ah, Montego Bay— second city where the sea whispers ancient tales and the sunsets paint the skies with artistry that Hollywood can only dream of. Where everyday is like living a Netflix series and there is also a community named Hollywood nestled in the ghettoes above the Donald Sangster International Airport, a Hollywood that conceptually eludes the imagination of California directors. As I sit here, a philosopher and a blerd (that’s Black nerd for the uninitiated), sipping my morning guinea hen tea and watching as L.A. burns, and Gavin Newsom fiddles, I can’t help but reflect on the dismal state of modern storytelling, particularly in the realm of comics, movies, and culture at large. What happened to the magic? Where did the soul go? And why, oh why, can’t I persuade my daughter to pick up a classic Marvel or DC comic?

The Curse of Wokeness and the Death of Imagination

Let’s not dance around the matter: wokeness has hurt the arts. Now, before someone accuses me of being a reactionary, let me clarify. I am not against inclusivity or diversity—far from it. I am against the shallow, performative gestures that masquerade as progress but ultimately reduce storytelling to bland propaganda. Race-swapping established characters isn’t creative; it’s lazy. It’s a hollow attempt to virtue-signal rather than an honest effort to craft something meaningful. Instead of painting old characters black, why not create new heroes rooted in the rich tapestry of Black folklore, mythology, and history?

I am pretty confident that I am not just writing this from a place of nostalgia and redolence, nor am I looking at the past with rose-tinted glasses as there were lame shows then as there are now. The trouble is no one remembers the lame stuff from yesteryear, it's the hits that get recorded to memory and go down in the annals of history. In the 80's I'd watch The Never Ending Story, and never ever tire of it. In that movie, the nothing, a metaphorical and in the movie metaphysical manifestation of imagination's undoing. I could never imagine that in modernity it would be wokeness and not the nothing that seem to be bringing about the end of imagination. Or maybe wokeness is an agent of the nothing like Gmork.

A comic I am working on called 'The Scarab'

The world is brimming with stories waiting to be told—Anansi the spider trickster, the legends of the Maroons, the Akan cosmology, or even the harrowing yet inspiring tales of the Middle Passage. These stories are powerful, authentic, and unique. They deserve to stand on their own rather than being shoehorned into the skin of a white character who was never meant to carry such a narrative.

Manga, Anime, and the Art of Storytelling

These days, my content diet has opened to Asian content. My daughter introduced my to the Life of Saiki K, My Hero Academia and of course all of Studio Ghibli. I loved Howl's Moving Castle, while her favourite is My Neighbour Totoro. My wife and I binged The Blue Eyed Samurai not last Christmas but the one before. To me in the 80's my closest brushes with anime were stuff, like Vampire Hunter D,  G-Force, Voltron and Gundam Wing. I hated Pokemon, Digimon and Dragon Ball Z. High school in the 90's saw Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z being all the rave. Kids would race home from Cornwall College to reach home and watch it on JBC which by then had morphed into Super Supreme TV before becoming TVJ. Man I hated that era.  I even hated 3D in those days, 2D art was more attractive to me and to some degree still is. I hated the influence of anime on American cartoons as the FOX Batman and Spider-Man, even though they channeled the Fleischer era toons, I also the line and big eyes of anime creeping into western culture.

My daughter doesn’t care about Superman or Captain Marvel; she’s engrossed in anime and manga. And I can’t blame her. Manga and anime know the secret Hollywood has forgotten: people don’t want to be preached at; they want to be entertained. They want to be transported to worlds where characters grow, struggle, and achieve, not worlds where the script feels like a didactic essay dressed up in spandex.

Take Naruto or One Piece, for instance. These stories resonate because they are rooted in universal themes—friendship, perseverance, and the quest for meaning. The characters evolve. The stakes feel real. Compare that to modern Marvel or DC fare, where the status quo reigns supreme, and characters are stuck in an eternal loop of stagnation. Spider-Man, my favorite hero, has become a shadow of his former self. Peter Parker no longer grows; he merely exists, a placeholder for tired, recycled plots. And while I appreciate Miles Morales as a fresh take on Spider-Man, even his stories are starting to feel formulaic.

Every now and then my daughter and I discuss some meta stuff like, why the manga and anime stories are so weird and feel like one big slice of life show, how they neglect or reject western 3 arch story structures etc. Occasionally we all watch a documentary or two on anime and manga. She has immersed herself in a Japanese dictionary and we even went to an anime festival in Kingston. Man I was proud of that moment as, when I was young I'd dream of going to comic conventions and now I live in an age where Jamaica has AnimeFest and it was grand and fabulous. All the pomp and pageantry and costumes, I am truly glad we connected like that. One of these days gonna get her a BOXXSU or supm. 

Hollywood’s Girl Boss Problem

And then there’s Hollywood’s obsession with the “girl boss” archetype. Listen, I have a daughter, I have no issue with powerful female characters. Chun Li, Storm, Wonder Woman, and even Ripley from Alien are some of the most compelling figures in fiction. But modern “girl boss” narratives often lack nuance. They mistake strength for perfection, forgetting that it’s the struggle that makes a character relatable and inspiring. Instead of browbeating the audience with didactic lectures, why not let the story do the talking? Show, don’t tell. Convince me through the narrative, not through a monologue that feels like it was lifted from a Twitter thread.

Am I the only one that finds it boring watching 120 lb women, defeat 250 lb men? Am I the only one who is tired of your heroes being derided, debased and deconstructed to death? I despised seeing Indiana Jones being emasculated in the last film, being made into a miserable cuck and old fuddy-duddy, while his female side is elevated to no end? Come on, Indy was my Dad's thing, he and I went on all the Indiana Jones stuff at Disneyland or Disney World, he bought his Indy hat there and got the whip and everything. He would hang it on my mothers vanity or is it bureau? But me nor any of my siblings could touch it. 

The Stagnation of Marvel and DC

Marvel and DC, once the titans of creative storytelling, are now the epitome of stagnation. Their movies and comics have become soulless cash grabs, more interested in pushing an agenda or setting up the next franchise installment than in telling a good story. The Marvel Cinematic Universe, once a beacon of innovation, has devolved into a factory line of forgettable, CGI-laden spectacles. And don’t even get me started on Disney’s recent output. It’s as if the House of Mouse has forgotten how to weave magic and is now content to churn out bland, preachy content that appeals to no one.

A Call for Authenticity

What we need is a renaissance of storytelling—stories that are honest, authentic, and unafraid to take risks. We need creators who are willing to dig deep, to explore the human condition, and to craft narratives that resonate on a profound level. We need new Intellectual Property that draw from the wellspring of diverse cultures and experiences, not shallow reboots or hollow adaptations.

Imagine a cinematic universe based on African mythology, with heroes and villains inspired by the Orishas or the legends of ancient Egypt. Imagine a series of graphic novels that delve into the rich history of the Caribbean, from the Maroon uprisings to the Rastafari movement. Imagine stories that don’t just check boxes but genuinely move the soul.

I remember how blown away I was with Alex Ross' art and Kingdom Come, how Wally West's Flash Born to Run origin tale empowered me as my parents separated and I was navigating High School life. I remember how my mother would read my Amazing Spider-Man comics and was impressed with his strong sense of morality. I remember the philosophy of Earth X, and how motivational I found Frank Miller's Batman Year One. I slept with that comic. I rewatched Christopher Reeves Superman 1 and 2 as well as Back to the Future 1, 2 and 3, endlessly. Those stories were, immortal. 

The Jamaican Philosopher’s Hope

As a philosopher, I believe in the power of stories to shape culture and inspire change. But that power is squandered when storytelling becomes a battleground for political wars and culture clashes. Let’s return to the roots of what makes a story great: compelling characters, meaningful conflict, and a narrative that speaks to the human experience.

So here’s my challenge to creators, studios, and publishers: be bold. Be authentic. And for the love of Anansi, stop insulting your audience’s intelligence. We don’t want to be lectured; we want to be moved. We want stories that make us laugh, cry, and think—not propaganda dressed up as entertainment.

As I finish my tea and gaze out at the listen to the community come to life, I hold onto hope. Maybe, just maybe, the tide will turn. Until then, I’ll keep introducing my daughter to the classics, hoping that one day she’ll see what I see—the magic that once was and could be again.