Category: Diary

  • Today In History: June 20

    Today In History: June 20

    CUPCAKE (1)

    June 20, 1248:  University of Oxford receives its Royal charter, and immediately begins to talk smack about Cambridge.

    1837: Queen Victoria is crowned; her 67-year reign will see vast social, political, and economic changes, as well as the construction of some really fancy train stations.

    1863: West Virginia becomes the 35th state after fifty counties secede from Confederate Virginia and join the Union; plain Virginia protests and eventually takes the matter to the U.S. Supreme Court.

    1893: Lizzie Borden is acquitted of taking an axe and giving her father 40 whacks; to this day, you can still enjoy the Borden family experience, hopefully sans homicide.

    1931: Olympia Dukakis is born; no word on if she ever got her “I slapped Ouiser Boudreaux” shirt.

    1949: Lionel Richie says Hello to the world, and promptly keeps his parents up All Night Long.

    It’s also National Ice Cream Soda Day— you can even make one with vodka!

    (Robin here!)

    Jane, you forgot today is National Hollerin’ Contest Day 🙂

     

  • Today In History: June 19

    Today In History: June 19

    on this day

    1464: Louis XI of France forms a postal service, and French dogs rejoice.

    1865: The end of slavery is announced in Texas; 150 years later, America totally has this race thing under control.

    1896: Wallis Simpson, the Queen’s second-least favorite divorcee, is born.

    1973: Dammit, Janet, the “Rocky Horror Picture Show” stage production opens in London.

    2013: James Gandolfini passes away, and waste management is never the same.

    It’s also World Sauntering Day and Garfield the Cat’s birthday, so practice your nonchalant stroll as you search for lasagna.

     

     

  • No Being Black/Black Beings Allowed

    No Being Black/Black Beings Allowed

     

    The shooting in Charleston, SC at the Historic Emanuel AME Church has sent the nation reeling.  There are folks who are shocked at this, calling it incomprehensible.  The truth is, it is very understandable. It’s a result of centuries of hate. It is not new. It is not “confusing.”  The possibility of violence in my community is my everyday reality, and the truth is, I’m tired.

    I’m tired. Given the significance of a mass murder happening in a Black church in the South, I want more specific, targeted rhetoric, not just the standard “we are praying” and “we are horrified.” Of course you’re praying. You damn well should be horrified. But can you, our “leaders” be specific about the racial significance/implication of this?

    I’m tired. I’ve already seen comments that are decrying calling it a hate crime, thus reminding me that there are people in this country who still think that Black and Brown people aren’t targets.

    Let’s just get this out of the way. This is a hate crime. There is no discussion, there is no question. To doubt that this is a hate crime means that you did not pay attention in history class.

    He made a choice. He chose to enter into a historic African-American church.

    He made a choice. He chose to sit there, in that historic African American church and “pray.”

    He made a choice. He chose to take out his gun and murder. Black people. In a Black Church.

    He made a choice.

    There are places of business in the area.
    If it was just about shooting people, why not go there?

    He made a choice.

    He chose racism, hate and murder. It is a hate crime.

    I’m tired. I’m tired of the Twitter alerts with the hashtags. Because every time I get one, I know that means another Black or Brown person has been brutalized or is dead.

    I’m TIRED. Being Black in America is exhausting.  And I feel cheated. Because, dammit, DAMMIT, DIDN’T WE ALREADY MARCH FOR BETTER THAN THIS?  Didn’t we already march, and fight, and protest, and get attacked by dogs and hung from trees for our liberty? Why the fuck are we still here as a country? I never got my 40 acres and my mule, and apparently, I never got the right to exist in my own country without fear.

    Where can I be Black? Not at the pool. Not in the street. Not in my car. Not in my own house. Not at church. CHURCH. Didn’t we already go through this? Didn’t 4 little girls already die so NO ONE ELSE WOULD HAVE TO?

    And now I’m crying at my desk, trying to disguise it as a cough, because God forbid I show emotion.

    I’m just so fucking tired. My brother is a pastor, and if I lost him to some shit like this, I think I’d burn a city down.

    So when is this my country ‘tis of thee? Where is my liberty?

    This country was built from the bones of people who look like me, and irrigated with the blood of people who look like me, and I’m tired of hearing racism is over because we have a Black man in the White House. I’m tired of hearing “forget about slavery.” I’m tired of shit like this happening over and over with there being collective outrage for 5 minutes and then we move on to something else without ever actually fixing anything.

    I’m tired of having the reality of my existence invalidated.

    And I know, I know that other ethnic groups have been persecuted in this country, and helped build this country, and were demonized in this country. But people of Italian descent and Irish descent went from being “othered” to being “mainstreamed,” and haven’t been victims of this kind of thing in a good 2 or 3 generations. Asians went through a horrible time in this country, and we don’t talk about it, which is wrong, but the majority collective has gotten over their “otherness” giving them a status on par with their own. And I’m just fucking tired. When does it get to be our turn to be free in this free society?

    As long as you hold on to the Confederate flag as a sign of heritage, it will never be my turn.

    As long as you alter your reporting when the victim is Black and the perpetrator is White, it will never be my turn.

    As long as you tell racist jokes without it being a “big deal” it will never be my turn.

    As long as you continue to whitewash history and act like these things didn’t happen, while pretending that anything that did happen has no bearing on today, it will never be my turn.

    Deal with your wrongs, America. Deal with your biases. Deal with your hate. Recognize and deal with all of it, so that I can actually be free.

    God bless the victims of Charleston and their families. And may we never, ever have to go through this again.

    Emanuel_African_Methodist_Episcopal_(AME)_Church
    Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church” by Cal Sr from Newport, NC, US – Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

     

  • You Can Pry My Butter From My Cold Dead Hands.

    You Can Pry My Butter From My Cold Dead Hands.

    butter

    I eat butter. No, I don’t mean, I put butter on bread. I mean “I eat butter.”

    As a functioning (?) adult member of society, I readily admit I know I’m not supposed to be eating butter. I usually go the more socially acceptable route of smearing huge gobs of it on bread or toast so that I am not judged. But my taste buds and I know it’s all about the butter.

    I’m a butter snob- Sweet Cream Salted Butter only, please and thank you. Outback used to have amazing butter (as a vegetarian*, I haven’t been in Outback in years, but oh, how I remember that sweet, sweet honey butter. Hmm, hmm, hmm.) I hope they still serve it. It really made the establishment shine.

    Speaking of establishments, did you know that if you ask the kind people at Carrabba’s to bring you melted butter for your herbs, they will? The hell with olive oil- that shit is foul.

    Walnut Street Supper Club also had amazing butter last time I was there. It broke my heart to find out it had closed . (The rest of the experience was great, too.) Funny story, I actually got shamed** because I tried to sneak some without bread.

    Folks just don’t understand.

    When I was a child, my parents used to hide the butter from me by placing it in the back of the refrigerator. They had to. I would come in from playing, open the fridge, grab a stick of butter out of the door holder, peel back the wrapper and bite into that sucker like a Snickers bar.

    I have never questioned why I have high cholesterol.

    So why are we talking about my love for butter? Because of this article right here.

    I don’t know this song. I’ve never heard it, and lived happily never knowing that it existed. But this line right from the article put me on the defensive:

    “First off, do not just eat butter by itself. You will die. Your arteries will come out up out of your chest like Groot in Guardians of the Galaxy and choke you…and then you will die.”

    YOU DON’T KNOW ME, PANAMA JACKSON! YOU DON’T KNOW MY STRUGGLES!

    Now stop judging and hand me my red yeast rice pills and a stick of the good stuff.

     

     

     

    *Simmer down there, partner. I said vegetarian. Not vegan.

    **I’m not ashamed. Not even a little bit

     

  • The Revolution is Coming

    Brace yourself, bitches.