On 1 Dec. 1955, Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery, AL.
Parks had boarded the bus in downtown Montgomery around 6 pm and took a seat in the first row in the “colored section.” After the “white section” had filled and a few white passengers were standing, the bus driver ordered Parks and 3 other black passengers to move so the white passengers could sit. While the others moved, the 42-year-old Parks refused. The bus driver then called the cops.
On 5 Dec., Parks was found guilty and charged $10, plus a $4 fee for court costs. The same day, 35,000 leaflets were distributed by the NAACP to announce a boycott of the buses. As many as 40,000 boycotted the buses, some walking as many as 20 miles. The boycott lasted 381 days, until bus segregation was ruled unconstitutional by the US Supreme Court on 17 Dec. 1956.
Unions work, unionize.
rail workers aren’t “holding the country hostage”, ok. their employers who are refusing to give them paid sick leave are. literally all this “crisis” would take to fix is fucking paid sick leave. but they’re too fucking selfish and want more more more more more money. fucking hate this place
Walking around Shinjuku camera in hand is one of my favorite things in the world honestly.
I’ll be posting way more photos in the coming weeks here and on Instagram. Hope you follow my 3 month journey.
Rules for a reasonable future.
I think a lot about Taika's outfit here. It's gotten a lot of hate, but I'm not sure why. It's certainly one of the more understated of his outfits from this show. I've heard people call it the Amish fit, or the Mary fit, or that he should have pumped it up with platforms or color or some other accessories, but...
I like that it's understated. It doesn't feel performative. It's not camp. Not that there is anything wrong with camp, obviously. There's something to be said about the power of camp, the power of that sort of theatrical expression. Lil Nas X springs immediately to mind as a trailblazer in that arena.
The thing is, not every deviation from gender norms needs to be like that. Demanding that this look be elevated, or over the top, or flashier, or brighter feels like demanding inauthenticity. I am reminded of something Taika said in an interview about Hunt for the Wilderpeople:
I come from a country whose idea of masculinity is quite extreme and I've grown up around a lot of that energy, I've been part of that a lot. And it's very draining, it's quite tiring trying to be macho.
I see this outfit as another type of subversion. It is plain, but then not. It's conservative, but then not. Why does every foray into the feminine need to be bright and fuzzy and sparkly and pink? Can things not be simultaneously soft and serious? Cold and kind? We don't know to what degree Taika had a say in the choice of this outfit. What I do know is that as an indigenous man growing up in Aotearoa and then later entering into an industry that not just reaffirms but galvanizes traditional gender roles, he most likely sees nuances that others miss.
There's a difference between thinking an outfit is boring versus demanding that it goes further to push what is in actually just another gender norm.
Matt Frewer and Amanda Pays in Max Headroom (1987)
Happy 50th birthday Video Games
today is video games’s birthday.
So, okay, fun fact. When I was a freshman in high school… let me preface by saying my dad sent me to a private school and, like a bad organ transplant, it didn’t take. I was miserable, the student body hated me, I hated them, it was awful.
Okay, so, freshman year, I’m deep in my “everything sucks and I’m stuck with these assholes” mentality. My English teacher was a notorious hard-ass, let’s call him Mr. Hargrove. He was the guy every student prayed they didn’t get. And, on top of ALL OF THE SHIT I WAS ALREADY DEALING WITH, I had him for English.
One of the laborious assignments he gave us was to keep a daily journal. Daily! Not monthly or weekly. Fucking daily. Handwritten. And we had to turn it in every quarter and he fucking graded us. He graded us on a fucking journal.
All of my classmates wrote shit like what they did that day or whatever. But, I did not. No, sir. I decided to give the ol’ middle finger to the assignment and do my own shit.
So, for my daily journal entries, over the course of an entire year, I wrote a serialized story about a horde of man-eating slugs that invaded a small mining town. It was graphic, it was ridiculous, it was an epic feat of rebellion.
And Mr. Hargrove loved it.
It wasn’t just the journal. Every assignment he gave us, I tried to shit all over it. Every reading assignment, everyone gushed about how good it was, but I always had a negative take. Every writing assignment, people wrote boring prose, but I wrote cheesy limericks or pulp horror stories.
Then, one day, he read one of my essays to the class as an example of good writing. When a fellow student asked who wrote it, he said, “Some pipsqueak.”
And that’s when I had a revelation. He wanted to fight. And since all the other students were trying to kiss his ass, I was his only challenger.
Mr. Hargrove and I went head-to-head on every assignment, every conversation, every fucking thing. And he ate it up. And so did I.
One day, he read us a column from the Washington Post and asked the class what was wrong with it. Everyone chimed in with their dumbass takes, but I was the one who landed on Mr. Hargrove’s complaint: The reporter had BRAZENLY added the suffix “ize” to a verb.
That night I wrote a jokey letter to the reporter calling him out on the offense in which I added “ize” to every single verb. I gave it to Mr. Hargrove, who by then had become a friendly adversary, for a chuckle and he SENT IT TO THE REPORTER.
And, people… The reporter wrote back. And he said I was an exceptional student. Mr. Hargrove and I had a giggle about that because we both knew I was just being an asshole, but he and the reporter acknowledged I had a point.
And that was it. That was the moment. Not THAT EXACT moment, but that year with Mr. Hargrove taught me I had a knack for writing. And that knack was based in saying “fuck you” to authority. (The irony that someone in a position of authority helped me realize that is not lost on me.)
So, I can say without qualification that Mr. Hargrove is the reason I am now a professional writer. Yes, I do it for a living. And most of my stuff takes authorities of one kind or another to task.
Mr. Hargrove showed me my dissent was valid, my rebellion was righteous, and that killer slugs could bring a city to its knees. Someone just needs to write it.