im pretty sure bromance is the perfect example of how embarrassingly fragile masculinity is. you know what a female bromance is called? a friendship
“Why do none of the people who say they care so much about theoretical “fetal pain” ever think that demonstrable maternal pain is worth mentioning?”
I had to pull another quote from the same article because it’s just so good. Go read it. Do it.
UKRAINE MEMORIAL: A pair of boots placed as a memorial to an anti Yanakovych protestor killed in clashes with riot police last week on February 25, 2014 in Kiev, Ukraine. Ukraine’s interim President Olexander Turchynov is due to form a unity government, as UK and US foreign ministers meet to discuss emergency financial assistance for the country. (Photo by Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images)
"Henry the 5th
This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and amiable, forsaking all his dissipated Companions, & never thrashing Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where he went & fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards married the King’s daughter Catherine, a very agreeable Woman by Shakespear’s account. Inspite of all this however, he died, and was succeeded by his son Henry.”
15 year old Jane writes English History. A reader sent me this one, it’s really great. Click through the image.
This may be a Jane Austen I can actually stomach.
someone tell her to get her gaudy weave and gross appropriation of a much more talented artist’s work the fuck outta here
Ugh Lily Allen, your music used to be so good but now you don’t even have any original ideas.
a letter to the immigrant and kids of color who bring food from home —
you are a warrior. you are a warrior.
i remember as early as elementary school trying to make sense of my world as a mixed-race-viet-appearing little girl whose parents worked ridiculous hours and the only thing that kept us together were shared meals.
i remember the pride i carried in tupperware containers stuffed with rice and whatever dish my mom had made the night before. one lunchtime in particular after i microwaved my mom’s meal for me and sat down, the comments rolled in about there being a ‘stink’ in the cafeteria, the kids around me were ‘grossed out’ and didn’t know where the ‘smell’ was coming from. but i knew. i definitely knew that those were snide and passive aggressive remarks about my homemade meal. so, i never brought any tupperware containers full of my mom’s cooking to school ever again. those kids hurt my feelings and i broke my mother’s heart when i told her that i was just fine eating lunch at school.
and as always i wish someone had told me that those kids can just fuck right off, that i had a right to my food, to my peoples’ food, to my culture, to what sustains and keeps me alive, to tools against the further colonization of my body, to safety against further displacement.
i had no one to affirm me then but i want to affirm others now.
you are a warrior. any act to make us feel shameful about the food that we eat, about the way we seek to preserve our culture is an active attempt to colonize us (still). it is an active attempt to displace, estrange and confuse us (still). it is an active attempt to have us internalize and act on their hatred of us on each other (still).
so eat your mama’s food. eat it whenever and wherever you want. don’t just eat it to piss white people off (though it can be satisfying) - also eat your peoples’ food with others who can value the intimacy of breaking bread, of nurturing each other, of keeping each other alive. eat and keep your belly on fire with the desire to make your food yours again, to make your culture yours again, to be yours again. eat and your stomach will grind to rid of the colonial gaze and with automatic urgency and muscle memory it will keep what belongs.
so yes, you are a warrior. you are vulnerable but you carry strength in your belly. you are other but you carry maps in your melanin coated skin that leads you home. you are small but you carry ancestral magic that takes up the dimensions of the sky. you are here but you carry there. you are a warrior, with no buts about it.
food is inherently political and emotional.