as a general rule. if what we’re calling ‘cultural appropriation’ sounds like nazi ideology (i.e. ‘white people should only do white people things and black people should only do black people things’) with progressive language, we are performing a very very poor application of what ‘cultural appropriation’ means. this is troublingly popular in the blogosphere right now and i think we all need to be more critical of what it is we may be saying or implying, even unintentionally.
There is nothing wrong with everyone enjoying each other’s cultures so long as those cultures have been shared.
Eating Chinese food, watching Bollywood movies, going to see Cambodian dancers, or learning to speak Korean so you can watch every K drama in existence is totally fine. The invitation to participate in those things came from within those cultures. The Mexican family that owns the place where I get fajitas wants me to eat fajitas. Their whole business model kind of depends on it, actually.
If you see something from another culture you think you might want to participate in, but you don’t know if that would be disrespectful or appropriative, you can just…ask. Like. A Jewish friend explained what a mezuzah was to me, recently. (It’s the little scroll-thing near their front doors that they touch when they come into their house. It basically means “this is a Jewish household.”)
“Oh, cool,” I said. “Can I touch it? Or is it only for Jewish people?”
“You can touch it or you can not touch it,” she said. “I don’t care.”
“Cool, I’m gonna touch it, then.”
“Cool.”
It’s not hard.
You want to twerk, twerk. I’ve never heard a black person say they didn’t think anybody else should be allowed to twerk. Just that they want us to acknowledge that they invented that shit, not Miley fucking Cyrus.
this is a good post.
Thank you, I was trying to sort this out in my head but you explained it very well.
so last night i had a whim to reread namesake since i haven’t caught up with it in a while, and when i reached the last page i was pleasantly surprised to find that today is the comic’s 7th anniversary! i was planning on drawing fanart anyways, but this made it especially prudent, haha.
this comic is such a delight. if you like fairytales, mysterious magic, truly stunning linework, and compelling stories with well-rounded casts filled with POC and LGBTQ characters, i can’t recommend it enough.
go check it out! and a very happy 7th namesake anniversary to meg and isa!
for the self-conscious beginner: No one makes great things
until the world intimately knows their mediocrity. Don’t think of
your writing as terrible; think of it as preparing to
contribute something great.
for the self-conscious late bloomer: Look at old writing as how far
you’ve come. You can’t get to where you are today without covering all
that past ground. For that, be proud.
for the perfectionist: Think about how much you complain about things you love—the mistakes and retcons in all your favorite series—and how you still love them anyway. Give yourself that same space.
for the realist: There will be people who hate your story even if
it’s considered a classic. But there will be people who love your
story, even if it is strange and unpopular.
for the fanfic writer: Your work isn’t lesser for not following canon. When you write, you’ve created a new work on its own. It can
be, but does not have to be, limited by the source material. Canon is not the
end-all, be-all.
for the writer’s blocked: It doesn’t need to be perfect. Sometimes you have to move on and commit a few writing sins if it means you can create better things out of it.
for the lost: You started writing for a reason; remember that
reason. It’s ok to move on. You are more than your writing. It will be here if you want to come back.
Yo, this guy sold his soul for this or something holy fuck
i feel like i just watched something forbidden for mortal eyes
I’m the black lady in the audience LIKE DAMN OKAY
So….do i go to church tommorrow or stay in?
MAGIC TRICKS ARE SIMPLY SLEIGHT OF HAND, USING REDIRECTION TO TAKE YOUR FOCUS OFF THE THING THEYRE MANIPULATING. THAT IS NOT THIS. IT SEEMS LIKE IT AT FIRST BUT THEN HE STARTS DOING THIS SHIT IN PLAIN SIGHT, AND LETTING US ACTUALLY SEE THE SHIT TRANSFORMING AND CHANGING PLACES. THIS ISN’T SLEIGHT OF HAND.
THIS ISN’T A MAGIC TRICK. ITS JUST FUCKING MAGIC.
???? what??? the fuck???????
“Oh, I think I see the moments there where the actual transfer is happening, but he’s really good at it,” I thought at first.
Promptly followed by, “Wait what the fuck what the FUCK”
Mmm bruh this guy needs to be arrested by wizard police for violation of the statute of secrecy
UMM Hugh had me scared there for a second I was about to find out who I need to beat for making him sad
Okay maybe I’m being a little dramatic but I’m honestly kind of offended at the lack of notes this has? Hugh CLEARLY put a lot of thought and effort into this joke, and you can tell that he’s proud of it he smiles and even chuckles at his joke. Is it so hard for y’all to show appreciation for a good man? He’s trying to be funny is Wolverine himself not good enough for you guys? God
fantasy book with witches and wizards and magical people but all magic has a price, like
main character, in awe and slightly terrified: what did you have to give up to be able to control storms with your mind?
powerful enchanter, fighting back tears as they pull down the hood of their cloak to reveal a knotted oily mess: my beautiful luscious hair….no matter how many times i wash or brush it, it always looks like this
main character: [horrified gasp]
fortune teller: and speak up when asking your question, these are my cards so they share my partially-deafness
other character, sympathetically: oh, had to trade good hearing for seeing the future?
fortune teller: no, asshole, i was born with it. i got seeing the future for trading in my ability to wink
there’s a legend in this fantasy land about a powerful enchanter who traded their ovaries for the power to create earthquakes. the grumpy semi-sentient force of nature who negotiates these magic deals had thought it was pretty great one, sure to make the recipient of the deal regret making it soon enough (after all, the point is having to suffer a bit in exchange for magic, because life sucks even in magical fantasy kingdoms)
however, soon afterwards, the Grumpy Semi-Sentient Force of Nature realized the enchanter had been ecstatic to be rid of periods and didn’t care about not having biological children. the GSSFN felt somewhat cheated by this and ever since has had a strict no-trading-internal-organs policy
“fucking humans messing with the system,” it was quoted as saying
actually, cheating the Grumpy Semi-Sentient Force of Nature out of the suffering it hopes to inflict with the magic deals is a time honored tradition in Magical Fantasy Kingdom, which is primarily made up of sassy little shits. most of the kingdom’s mythology is made up of trickster figures
there’s the legend of the smooth-talking thief who managed, by describing a certain talent of hers as “the ability to form small growths out of her skin and then reabsorb them” with enough quick confusing descriptions to trade the ability to get pimples for the power to become invisible
there’s the boy who brought the GSSFN a bucketful of cold, liquid silver in exchange for the power to cure a certain sickness, only for the GSSFN to realize once the sun had come up that the bucket contained only water reflecting moonlight
there’s the monarch who offered to trade in their power to destroy people with only their words for the seemingly much less valuable power to turn one grain of rice into two grains — only for the GSSFN to realize later it had gotten the ruler’s cutting sarcasm in payment for a power that could end a famine
every year the Grumpy Semi-Sentient Force of Nature gets visits from tens of jewish witches and wizards solemnly offering to give up eating all foods that come from pigs or eating meat at the same time as dairy in exchange for the powers they want
“DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKING CLEVER” says the GSSFN, who has frankly had enough of this shit
Then there was the time someone traded the rights to their firstborn child for the ability to breathe both air and water (even salt water!). The GSSFN thought about this for a moment – did this go against the no-organs rule or not? – then agreed.
“Ha, sucker! You already got my ovaries, so good luck getting a kid out of me!”
“I KNEW YOU LOOKED FAMILI– wait. Wait. You got… earthquakes last time, right? I’m remember that right?”
*smug nod*
“What the hell does that have to do with being able to breath underwater??”
“Underwater. Earthquakes.”
“I HATE HUMANS.”
Thus, the no-trading-more-than-once rule was adopted and GSSFN started Marking those who traded.
I presume that there’s a subclause to that rule that states that one cannot acquire the ability to remove the Mark.
i really appreciate everyone lawyering the fuck out of this
Steve Rogers did, in fact, realize that something was off when he saw the outline of the woman’s odd bra (a push-up bra, he would later learn), but being an officer and a gentleman, he said that it was the game that gave the future away.
No, see, this scene is just amazing. The costume department deserves so many kudos for this, it’s unreal, especially given the fact that they pulled off Peggy pretty much flawlessly.
1) Her hair is completely wrong for the 40’s. No professional/working woman would have her hair loose like that. Since they’re trying to pass this off as a military hospital, Steve would know that she would at least have her hair carefully pulled back, if maybe not in the elaborate coiffures that would have been popular.
2) Her tie? Too wide, too long. That’s a man’s tie, not a woman’s. They did, however, get the knot correct as far as I can see - that looks like a Windsor.
3) That. Bra. There is so much clashing between that bra and what Steve would expect (remember, he worked with a bunch of women for a long time) that it has to be intentional. She’s wearing a foam cup, which would have been unheard of back then. It’s also an exceptionally old or ill-fitting bra - why else can you see the tops of the cups? No woman would have been caught dead with misbehaving lingerie like that back then, and the soft satin cups of 40’s lingerie made it nearly impossible anyway. Her breasts are also sitting at a much lower angle than would be acceptable in the 40’s.
Look at his eyes. He knows by the time he gets to her hair that something is very, very wrong.
so what you are saying is S.H.E.I.L.D. has a super shitty costume division….
Nope, Nick Fury totally did this on purpose.
There’s no knowing what kind of condition Steve’s in, or what kind of person he really is, after decades of nostalgia blur the reality and the long years in the ice (after a plane crash and a shitload of radiation) do their work. (Pre-crash Steve is in lots of files, I’m sure. Nick Fury does not trust files.) So Fury instructs his people to build a stage, and makes sure that the right people put up some of the wrong cues.
Maybe the real Steve’s a dick, or just an above-average jock; maybe he had a knack for hanging out with real talent. Maybe he hit his head too hard on the landing and he’s not gonna be Captain anymore. On the flipside, if he really is smart, then putting him in a standard, modern hospital room and telling him the truth is going to have him clamming up and refusing to believe a goddamn thing he hears for a really long time.
The real question here is, how long it does it take for the man, the myth, the legend to notice? What does he do about it? How long does he wait to get his bearings, confirm his suspicions, and gather information before attempting busting out?
Turns out the answer’s about forty-five seconds.
Sometimes clever posts die a quiet death in the abyss of the unreblogged. Some clever posts get attention, get comments, get better. Then there’s this one which I’ve watched evolve into a thing of brilliance.
never say anything to a penguin that the penguin has not already said to you
this reads like a shitpost but i’m actually 100% serious.
i was walking along the side of the harbour this evening, just after all the penguins had come in from the ocean to nest. there was one penguin right by the footpath, and when it saw me it kept saying ‘höö’. so i said ‘höö’ right back. it seemed to like that, and we had a lovely conversation where we just kept saying ‘höö’ to each other. i crouched down about two metres away from it, and we kept talking, and it actually moved towards me a little bit, seeming to prefer my company to the heartless embrace of the sea.
but then i made the mistake of trying to change things up. i said ‘hweh’, which was something that a previous penguin said to me, and this penguin hated it, and fucked right off. never said another word to me. i felt so rude.
I keep imagining this from the penguin’s point of view:
“Gustav, my friend, why so glum?”
The penguin in question looked up from his half-eaten sprat, shaking his head in disgust.
“Not glum, Sebastian. Affronted, outraged - I had the most perturbing encounter with one of the Beakless Ones.”
Sebastian nodded solemnly. “Yes, they are often perturbing. What happened, my friend?”
Gustav sighed heavily, looking up to the sky and holding his flippers wide, as if to ask the gods “why?”, before mournfully retelling his experience, “I was on the beach where the Beakless sometimes wander, contemplating names for this year’s chicks, when one of them approached. It seemed harmless enough to greet - they’re cute, in a strange, bald and flat-faced way, are they not?”
“Oh Gustav, you kind-hearted fool.”
“Such a fool, I am!” Gustav’s moans had gathered a small crowd already - the only thing penguins love more than a bellyful of fish, is a story. A good storyteller was always guaranteed a warm spot to huddle in the winter, surrounded by bored friends longing for entertainment.
“What did it do, Gustav? Did it kick you?”
“No! When it got close, I called out to it, ‘hello, friend!’. It stopped and returned the greeting - awkwardly, but it was rather sweet, like a chick learning it’s first chirps. ‘Hollow fren,’ it said back to me. I was charmed, but not wanting it to learn poor pronunciation, I repeated the greeting, and so did it! Getting clearer each time, till it could almost pass for a true penguin itself.”
“Gustav is a wonderful teacher,” Adelina, his mate, stated with a proud nod of her lovely blue head. “You remember how well our chicks could enunciate, before they even caught their first fish.”
“But what of it, Gustav? What happened to sour this experience so?”
“We went back and forth, till I was satisfied. It lowered itself near the ground, and I moved closer, carefully, not wanting to alarm it. I was just about to tell it how pleased I was, that it learning so quickly, when all of a sudden, it looked me right in the eye and said ‘Fuck off, freak.’”
There were avian gasps all around.
“Oh no!”
“How rude!”
“I was so appalled, I could not bring myself to even chide it.” Gustav bowed his head in shame. “I turned and left without another word.”
“It said that to you? Oh dear.” Sebastian tilted his head in a piercing glare towards one of their fellows, focusing on the only one who was slapping his sides and chortling. “Björn, you scoundrel! What have I told you about yelling obscenities at the Beakless?”
Björn cackled and bobbed his head in defiance. “How was its enunciation, Gustav? You soft-hearted buffoon!”
now that’s a fine addition to my post
I just read fan fiction about penguins talking to people, and discussing it with penguins….
I have never felt so happy, and so sad that I will never get to talk to penguins like this in my life.
