John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins in Jazz (dir. Ken Burns, 2000)
Greats having a musical conversation. Same instrument, same language, going through phrases and exclamations and ruminations, all through sound with no words.
Adapt to this
LET ME JUST POINT OUT THE VARIOUS FLAWS OF LOGIC HERE. FIRST OF ALL DARWINS POWER IS TO LITERALLY ADAPT TO ANYTHING IN THE EFFING UNIVERSE. HIS POWERS DEEMED IT TOO DANGEROUS TO FIGHT THE HULK AND TELEPORTED HIM TO ANOTHER COUNTRY. HE ONCE BECAME PURE COSMIC EFFING ENERGY AND SHORTLY AFTER REMATERIALIZED AS A HUMAN BEING TO PREVENT HIS DEATH. DARWIN IS LITERALLY INEFFINGVINCIBLE. AND YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT A PATHETIC BALL OF KINETIC ENERGY FROM SEBASTIAN SHAW MERKS HIM?!?!?! THEY OBVIOUSLY ARE OUT TO KILL THE BLACK MAN IN THE PLOT AND LITERALLY WROTE THIS SCENE WITH NO REGARDS TO DARWINS POWERS WHATSOEVER AND ITS FRUSTRATING THAT THEY WOULD GO OUT OF THEIR WAY TO KILL HIM OFF LIKE THAT
I’m saying. Even in sci fi we ain’t safe
This part always pissed me off, man. And I’m so glad someone finally brought it up.
I explained this to J the other day when we were watching it. I have NEVER seen a character so disrespected as to completely ignore his capabilities that are PROVEN in the comics. It’s so bad that honestly I’m starting to consider how insignificant even a fictional blavk life ifs like IT’S FUCKING FICTIONAL MAN BUT YOU COULDN’T LET THIS NIGGA LIVE???
you know…there was a part in one of the comics where Darwin’s body adapted and turned him into pure energy. so uh..yeah.
like someone else said, same studio that cast Halle Berry as Storm. NUMEROUS times. so there’s THAT.
All of this TRUTH rat chere.
Amazing how you remember things vividly…even more amazing when it was almost 30 years ago…
I remember being in third grade. I was the kid who drew cartoons and dinosaurs and was the expert of What Animal Would Win If These Two Fought. I was tall for my age, gangly as hell, and had thick-ass glasses.
I remember drawing something - a scene on a street, or a cartoon strip with a dumb punchline that may have had to do with farting - and a kid whose face is vivid, but name is lost, asked me…
"Why you just draw white people?"
And I looked down, and not one of the people I drew were ethnic at all. Same bland faces with thin noses and slicked back hair. Or bouncy blonde hair. My elementary school had MAYBE two white kids in it. I was surrounded by blacks, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and Samoans, and I was drawing our stories, mainly about teachers at the school and farting. But they weren’t in the characters I created.
I’d like to think that I changed then.
This way girls and boys can see they’re not alone. I have them and this would help me see that.
Embrace your stripes, y’all! :)
Lol I love the stretch marks on my girl breasts
like a tiger
for the girl that is starving herself because she saw stretch marks.
You are not alone sis. There are thousands of us out here. Please be good to yourself.
Growing six inches in three months got me mine. But peace and power to everyone.
Realize that my self-worth is not dependent on the involvement and interest of other people in my day-to-day. If I reach out and get no response, or notice that people can’t be bothered to say hello or respond or check in, then I have to stop taking it personally (and perhaps find new acquaintances).
I’ve understood that everyone has their own thing, and I am FAR down the list of priorities, but as someone who’s constantly worried about intruding, of being a bother, of being of low priority anyway, it just exacerbates an already bad sense of self.
This has been a post.
Now, back to art and reblogs and funny shit.
I hadn’t had any food, and I hadn’t talked to anyone. And the dark clouds showed up. I wrote some stuff, and then hit the delete key.
Someone I follow who is going through some turbulent times asked people to check on her. A word, a good wish, a text, whatever, made her feel less alone. Even though she knew she had people in her corner, she sometimes felt like she didn’t. And while that doesn’t make sense, no one says emotions make sense a lot. But I identify with that sentiment.
And what NOT to say to someone who’s confessed to feeling depressed? “MAN UP, NIGGA!” No.
I was recently commissioned to photograph five generations of descendants of Solomon Northup, author of “12 Years a Slave”. The feature can be seen in this week’s newsstand ‘Oscar’s Edition’ of The Hollywood Reporter as well as here.
However small, I feel honored to play a role in the sharing of Solomon Northup’s legacy. It was definitely an experience that I’ll always treasure. Enjoy!