Mistah Kye Too Cold 4 You Here Mp3 Download

[Alterio Wihl]

Season 2. Part III.This song is the next part of what season 2 is all about. "Rina"MiSTah Kye's first lover whom he mentions in the Deluxe version of his Recovery album on track 20 called "14th Of December"In this track, Kye finds it hard to process that she has finally moved on, even after all these years he feels as if he should've gotten that second chance. Part of him thinks she's doing this out of spite by being so sharp with her words so, MK takes over and rationalizes the situation, painting vivid imagery describing what the pain truly feels like, does she really wanna watch him bleed? Some levels of mental pain cut deeper than physical so he feels as if she should've just put a bullet in him. On the other hand, he explains that even if they were to get back together, it wouldn't work out anyway because he is way too cold nowadays due to his past - but by looking in retrospect, I think it's time to let this one go... memories will always be memories and memories only exist in the past-present moments and in this present moment, Kye is alone. You'll find out about everything when the full Season 2 mixtape drops in May. (May-be)This Song Was Made On An iPhone #UKRap #iPhoneStudio #MKArmy MiSTah Kye - Too Cold 4 You Here (Sweater Weather)[OFFICIAL MUSIC AUDIO]Prod. By LS TheProducerConnect with MiSTah Kye via.Instagram: www.instagram.com/mistah_kye/Snapchat: thefamousmkConnect With LS TheProducer via.Instagram: www.instagram.com/lstheproducer/Snapchat: lstheproducer

mistah kye too cold 4 you here mp3 download

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He attended Oakland Technical High School and transferred to Emery High School where he later graduated. As a teenager, F.A.B. was an avid basketball player and point guard of his high school team. F.A.B. was forced to quit basketball after he sustained an injury on the court.

I almost married this Irish-American guy. . .

I even went down to meet his family, and they lived in Sarasota, Florida. . . .

Like I love his family but they were kinda too nice to me. So the whole time I felt really like "Oh, this is my host family [starts bowing]. I come from Asia [bows from the waist three times, slowly.] America is numbah one [bows again]. Sank you mistah Eddy's faddah." [bows and stays low]

As Cho deploys it, the bow - a civil gesture - hides an aggression, or more accurately, it makes apparent an aggression, an uneven relation of racialized power between whites and yellows, between races defined by distinct interpellation in relations of production (labor) and exchange (capitalist consumption). Prior to her actual visit to Sarasota, Cho anticipates another kind of social interaction more transparently revelatory of the racial disjunctures and spatial segregation operating historically between people of color and whites in the United States: "I asked [my boyfriend], 'Are there gonna be any Asian people there [in Sarasota]?' And he was like, 'No.' And I said, 'Okay. . . . Could you just drop me off at the dry cleaner then? [beat] Cause I don't want to be the only one.'" Through such historical references, Cho pokes fun at those who would view the bow as merely an Oriental flourish. To see Cho's mimicry of Asian obedience as the mere staging of quaint international differences - bowing versus hand-shaking - rather than historical racial relations is to adopt a view that the artist would surely call "too nice," made possible only through the repression of historical memory, and a deliberate ignorance of prior performative references.

The Chippendale dancers are gay. [beat] They're gay. You know why? Because there is no such thing as a straight man with a visible abdominal muscle. Doesn't exist. You need to suck cock [Cho bends slowly over] to get that kind of muscle definition.

In my examination of Cho's comedy act and her memoir, both entitled I'm the One that I Want, I take up the literal site of performance (the bare stage) as a space of assemblages, as a platform for revealing the body's leakage - its infirm boundaries and borders as well as its embeddedness in histories of migration. I use migration, here, to refer both to expulsions across national borders (for instance, Cho's father is deported from America just three days after his wife gives birth) as well as to the more mundane vagrancy of stand-up performers who, with the rise of comedy chains in the 1980s, travel the national circuit as "road warriors" (Borns, Stebbins). Relief from the life on the road prompts Cho to develop a situation comedy for television broadcast, a comedy not only sporting the ubiquitous living room interior (carry-over from naturalist theater) but also incapable, ultimately, of simulating a homespace for "alien" Asians within the white world of television. My argument, however, is not that Cho is unable to find a home through Hollywood development but that home, itself, has become unsettled, revealed as a spatial arrangement whose ideality rests on imprisonment.

Films such as the 1957 docudrama Fincho (about the"modernizing" and "citizen-building" role of a Britishlumber company in Nigeria) and the 1960 travelogue Drums of Africa (whichopens with aerial shots of University College Ibadan that soon segue intoequally lofty views of "neighboring" Niger and Cameroon) are keyexamples of what I call "soft power cinema." My use of this term isindebted to Joseph Nye's conception of soft power as a cultural toolcrucial to asserting national and corporate interests. (4) Characterized bytheir open endorsement of Western Cold War claims about both the value andvulnerability of a decolonizing West Africa, the constituent films of softpower cinema, as they were produced and screened in this particular worldregion, functioned in primarily Anglophone countries to coalesce British,American, and emergent Gambian, Ghanaian, Sierra Leonean, and especiallyNigerian ideals of governance. Fincho, for instance, views the British-ownedWest African lumber firm Finch & Company (the film's corporatesponsor) as an agent of social change in Nigeria--one capable of creating"worthy citizens" out of the alleged torpor of West Africantraditionalism. For its part, the BP-financed Drums of Africa presentsUniversity College Ibadan--a product of British colonialism that by the timeof the film's production had become a key beneficiary ofcontainment-minded American philanthropic organizations--as the"hub" of efforts to produce postindependence Nigerian citizens. (5)Tellingly, both Fincho and Drums of Africa traveled almost immediately fromtheir respective West African sites of production to the United States, wherethey were screened in a variety of educational venues. (6)

Both textually as well as through their complicated circuits ofdistribution, West African examples of soft power cinema shed considerablelight upon an understudied aspect of the early Cold War era. Perhaps owing toits relatively muted qualities, the Cold War relationship between the UnitedStates and West Africa has only recently reached the pages of expansivescholarly analyses, becoming a subject with readily definable contours. (7)Less clear, however, is the manner in which industrial citizenship--asexpressed through the sponsorship of films about Africa and Africans--becamea weapon in the cultural Cold War, as well as an agent of neocolonialism andwhat is now known as "corporate social responsibility." (8) How,exactly, did BP and other global companies use sponsored cinema to mediateamong discourses involving West African decolonization and independence,British neocolonialism, the US policy of containment, and mass education?How, in other words, did West African industrial films become transnationalcold warriors?

Throughout the early Cold War era, industrially authored analogiesbetween individuals of African descent assumed a variety of cinematic forms,from voice-over declarations of "Negro unity" to montage sequencesshowing Ghanaian, Nigerian, Jamaican, and Martinican men and women. Perhapsthe most complicated example of such analogies appears in the film Fincho,which begins with a "special introduction" from the Americansuperstar Harry Belafonte. Flanked by an African tribal mask as well as afelt rendering of the African continent, Belafonte sits upon a draped stool,stares into the camera, and delivers an instructional lecture on the globalrelevance of the docudrama to follow. Written by the film's whitedirector, Sam Zebba, Belafonte's script--along with the performer'svery presence--signals the extent to which Fincho depends upon its ownunderstanding of Negritude in order to promote the "positive" roleof a British corporation in a decolonizing Nigeria. As a movement, Negritudehad emerged in Paris in the early 1930s, where it galvanized francophoneblack intellectuals, including Aime Cesaire (from Martinique) and LeopoldSedar Senghor (from Senegal). Having sprung from debates about the existenceof a universal black culture, Negritude would contribute tremendously to thestruggle for decolonization in West Africa, challenging the terms andconditions of white rule and facilitating what Cesaire described as "thesimple recognition of the fact of being black and the acceptance of thisfact." (12) For BP, Finch & Company, and other globe-trotting,Western-owned corporations, Negritude provided a means of suggesting thealleged difference between colonialism and postindependence corporateculture. By openly endorsing the movement through educational film--by havinga politically active black American like Harry Belafonte on hand forpedagogical purposes--British corporations operating in West Africa duringdecolonization could present themselves as simultaneously transatlantic andantiracist.

Fincho attempts to teach Nigerians not only to embrace thecitizen-building proclivities of British corporatism but also to reject anyhostility to white businessmen. The film's eponymous Nigerianprotagonist (played by Patrick Akponu, at the time a conductor on theLagos-Owo bus line) is named not only after Finch & Company but alsoafter the firm's white timber extractor, Mr. Finch (identified in thecredits by the Nigerian Pidgin designation "Mistah Finch" andplayed by the British CEO of Finch & Company's Nigerian concession,Gordon Parry-Holroyd). (17) In embodying the confluence of white British,black Nigerian, and Western corporate interests and identities, Finchohimself suggests the discursive slippage so central to the cultural Cold Warin West Africa, whereby the racist exploitation of a buddingneocolonialism--not to mention the containment-minded efforts to delimitNigeria both politically and culturally-could pass as "helpful"pedagogy, as well as an effective agent of nonviolence. At one point in thefilm, Finch & Company grows so strong--so "modern"--that itmanages to introduce elaborate timber-extraction equipment, leading to theobsolescence of local labor. Robbed of job opportunities, several youngNigerian men plan an attack "against the whites," but theassimilated Fincho puts a stop to them, in the process preaching the newcorporate gospel. Modernization may remove the need for physical labor, butin so doing it creates more "civilized" Nigerian citizens--youngmen closer in style and in spirit to the smartly dressed Belafonte, whosefancy penny loafers liken him to a mid-twentieth-century Western ideal ofmasculine elegance.

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