“When I get mad, I put it down on a pad.”
Some thoughts on Black pain, anger, trauma and reactions, in these times. They may be unprecedented, but in other ways, been here before. Warning ahead of time–this one is long. Bring water, snacks, and a gas mask.
Image: Protestors watch fireworks go off as the Minneapolis 3rd Police Precinct burns.
On SFF markets and the problem of diversity.
This is one of those long ones. Grab a snack.
Art by Joe Orlando. From the story Judgment Day! in the March-April 1953 issue of Weird Fantasy.
Harriet Tubman is finally set to grace the front cover of the $20 bill. For many it’s a dream come true, especially since folk been “dreaming of Harriet” for a minute.
Image: from a source I won’t name that seemed to be parodying black history with an allusion to “Harriet Tubman in space.” I am both jacking and subverting that sh*t.
It’s that time of year again, Black History Month. Every February in the United States, the country sets aside 28 (or 29 in a leap year) days to celebrate, discuss and engage Black History. Innocuous enough. And yet Feb. 1st seems to signal the beginning of a 28-day long ritual of whining (how come they get their own month?), misconceptions and endless micro-aggressive racial faux-pas. And this isn’t just from the usual sky boxes of white privilege; there are black people (looking in your general direction Stacey Dash) who wade into…well…the stupid. So here are a few tips to better understand the month, both for those who have to endure the stupid and for those who might be enticed to engage in the stupid.
This is just an updated list from an annual post I’ve done for the last two years. But guess what? It never gets old because the stupid never changes.
“He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.”– Declaration of Independence July 4, 1776.
Phenderson Djèlí Clark 