#black danish folk

[unsung-tragedy]

Myrkur for her album "Mareridt" part IV.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Capitel I: I Troldskog Faren Vild (Chapter I: Lost in the Dark Forest) • Capitel II: Soelen Gaaer Bag Aase Need (Chapter II: The Sun Goes Down Behind the Hills) • Capitel III: Braablick Blev Hun Vaer (Chapter III: Grey Eyes Watch Her Closely) • Capitel IV: Een Stemme Locker (Chapter IV: A Voice is Calling) • Capitel V: Bergtatt-Ind I Fjeldkamrene (Chapter V: Spellbound - Into the Mountain Chambers)

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

[origami-butterfly]

Having blorbo thoughts about xkcd feels so stupid. Wdym I'm getting emotional over these stick figures.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Myrkur - Tor i Helheim 2020

Folkesange ("folk songs") is the third studio album by Danish band Myrkur, led by singer Amalie Bruun. It was released on 20 March 2020 under Relapse Records. Folkesange diverts from the style of the band's previous black metal albums into folk music. The album consists of renditions of Scandinavian traditional music performed with period instruments such as mandola, lyre, nyckelharpa and talharpa as well as of original acoustic compositions. "Tor i Helheim" is, as the title suggests, about the Norse gods Thor and Hela. It received a total of 82,4% yes votes!

[ashmouthbooks]

2023 in books

better late than never, right?

2023 was a relatively slow year for me in bookbinding, but I still made 30+ books. (ask me how much time I spent on my other hobbies and it becomes clear why books were fewer.)

A5 books

the first A5 of the year was an entry for a bookbinding competition (which I didn't win), where the theme was climate change. I had a lot of fun putting it together and it was the first time I made an A5 tête-bêche book - I usually do these A6 or A7 size.

this was also the year I decided to start a collection of menocchio fics, which also led to experiments with printing directly onto bookcloth to get titles on the spine

what's fun about bookbinding is that you can Just Make A Book, but you can also Get Ideas And Run With Them with it. which is how I wound up with this black on black book. destiel necromancy fic, because of course it is

going back to something more colourful...Ulysses. not the James Joyce one, the slowburn 00Q one. named for a Tennyson poem.

final A5 book of the year is my Renegade Exchange book, which I bound for Silent Sun Press - a Crowley-centric genfic with outsider POV, so naturally I went for TV!Gomens colour schemes

A6 and A7 books

I started the year ambitiously - in addition to entering a competition, I started my urchin specials project. thus far I've still only bound these first three books for the project, but I plan to do more. first dustjackets as well!

I continued with the no-glue pamphlets and did three

I joined the Tiny Books Exchange, and as a proof of concept - before I typeset an A7 sized tête-bêche - I did a little tête-bêche of the two Temeraire fics I wrote for yuletide once upon a time

then followed of course the Tiny Book I bound for the exchange - my copy (test & proof of concept, bottom), the giftee copy (green, top right), and the author copy (blue, top left)

I typeset a lot more than I bind - I have plans to bind so and so, so I typeset it, but don't always have the time to bind it right away. so I have folders full of typesets ready to go at a moment's notice. this one was typeset a whole year before I bound it

are these paperbacks or just very slim hardbacks? I call them paperbacks as I used 0.5mm boards and they have no spine, but ymmv

this one definitely is a hardback - with slightly thicker boards, a spine, and two fics in one book. I do love those tête-bêches

at my work we have a lot of deliveries wrapped in this nice recycled brown paper that was just going into the recycling bin, and I thought: why not make books out of it? so I played around with it (and my printer) and came up with a neat aesthetic for paperbacks with breakaway spines (using 0.5mm boards)

will I ever stop with the tête-bêches? no. also this one has endpapers made from SEAWEED. how cool is that?

the last A6 of the year is this little collection of my own stories for a tiny Danish fandom. detectives and trauma, but make it about food? yes. food and cooking themed endpapers and cover papers, and the dustjacket has fake coffee stains on it. perfect

and that is all, folks. I did a lot of different styles and types of binding this year, I had fun with it, I learned a lot, and I'm happy with what I've created.

[thatswhywelovegermany]

Nis Puk

Nis Puk (in Sylt Frisian Nes Pük, in Danish also Nis Pug and Nis Puge) is a character from the area of folk tales. The name combines the names Nisse and Puk. The legendary figure is mainly known in the Schleswig area on both sides of the German-Danish border (also Sønderjylland ≈ Southern Jutland) in the German-Danish borderland.

Nis Puk shows the following characteristics:

Nis Puk is supposed to take care of the house, yard and animals if the residents are treating their own children and pets well, and to be a counterpoise within the house and the village.

Nis Puk is said to live in the attic or in a barn. Apparently, adults can no longer see him.

Once a year, at Christmas, a bowl of grits (with butter) must be brought to Nis Puk. If this doesn't happen, Nis Puk moves to another village. The house and farm would then be exposed unprotected to greed and decay.

An example of a folk tale is the legend of Nis Puk from the Lindewitt farm near Flensburg:

Nis Puk from the Lindewitt farm is said to have once sat on top of the dog house and used his legs to annoy the dogs underneath. Howling and barking, they are said to have tried to grab little Nis. The farm servant saw this, wanted to have fun and pushed the puk down from the hut. Nis Puk screamed loudly and vowed to take revenge. One day, Nis Puk untied the two black horses and chased them in the direction of the inn where the servant was carousing. He immediately noticed the commotion outside, rushed out, grabbed the two horses and wanted to take them back to the stable. He got on one of the horses and rode off. But, drunk as he was, on the way he fell asleep. The next morning he woke up, puzzled, on two black peat heaps in the Oxlund fen (near Großenwiehe).

[th3-0bjectivist]

Dear listener, on the incredibly rare occasions when I crave some old-fashioned rock n’ roll that also appeals to the very darkest shades of human nature, I immediately turn to The Raveonettes for elucidation and insight. This Danish duo manages to give me the exact audial drug I need when I’m in a mood, whether it be an upper or a downer, to put my troubled spirit back to a delicate balance. This isn’t music that I enjoy in a traditional sense. More like I can’t help but LOVE it because it’s just that damn good! Above this paragraph, you can smash play on Love In a Trashcan from their 2005 album Pretty in Black. And if you happen to find yourself in an uncontrollable full tilt boogie, join me down below for a little more on these feathered friends.

These birds create a lot of retro-rock which is a big throwback to an American 50’s and 60’s style, all while touching upon some very dark themes like murder, lust, crime and betrayal. Hailing from Copenhagen, Denmark, this dynamic duo’s tracks are often tied to the past instrumentally and given a facelift through synth, distortion, and occasional hip-hop inspired beats. This is indie noise pop with a refreshing darksome lyrical twist. These corvids don’t just play well together, they sing well together as well, giving them a slight edge over the standard guy/girl, one is on instruments the other is on vocals model that I’m used to seeing everywhere in modern music. When you mash all of that up with some skilled guitar work and a clear fascination with vintage Americana, what you’re left with is a sound that somehow feels old school and new school simultaneously. Musically groovy, lyrically edgy and boasting a catalog that spans over two decades, these songbirds manage to consistently bang out tunes that are fun AND forlorn. Often combining catchy vocal harmonies with shoegaze stylishness, their work will keep you feeling as bipolar as Kayne West… only without the inflated ego and narcissistic God-complex as part of the total package. If you’re old enough or know enough about 60’s music to have heard of groups like The Velvet Underground, these winged wonders will provide you with a walk-down-memory-lane experience with their spicy topics, high-quality poetry and avant-garde approach to rock. A few years ago, I posted my very favorite song by these nutcrackers which either Soundcloud or Tumblr deleted for God-knows what reason, so now I’m posting it again. Click just below for Lust from their 2007 album Lust Lust Lust, its one hell of a melodic banger! Lots more music to come in 2024, folks. Thanks so much for tuning in to my personal radio station on Tumblr!

I don’t necessarily recommend a lot of bands that reach for a retro style, so I implore you to enjoy this week’s entry as it’s something of a rarity. And HEY, @t-underneaththeradardancing, as far as I’m concerned this one’s just for you my bird-lovin’ buddy. Image source: https://music.newcity.com/2024/06/06/harmonic-noise-is-real-explosive-and-fun-a-preview-of-the-raveonettes-at-the-bottom-lounge/

[hayleysayshay]

I rly just saw someone suggest Eurovision enforce Ireland singing in Irish… I’d love for an Irish Gaelic song but it’s a minority language, Irish ppl aren’t more or less Irish for being able to speak Gaelic or not so it would be batshit to enforce this.

I’ve seen a couple dodgy comments from racist trolls about Ukraine sending a black man singing in English as he’s not ‘really Ukrainian’ and it’s just Ukraine trying to look ‘woke’ compared to last year’s ‘very ukranian’ song when like, what does it matter where he was originally from or what language he’s singing, he’s representing Ukraine. This is who Ukraine want to represent them, it’s a ukranian song stfu.

I agree with the homogenous English language is a detriment and I want National languages to have a presence and I want to have a variety of musical style. But I don’t think ppl realise how enforcing language rules is a slippery slope to yikes town. A song representing a country is Swiss/Latvian/Ukranian/Danish etc, no matter the language or musical styling. Like people listen to electronic dance pop, big shock that a lot of countries send electronic dance pop, if a country sent a song in national folk stylings every year it would get repetitive and honestly this has never been a part of Eurovision culture, in the past we got a lot of Shlaeger style ballads and pop songs, basically the same genre, so pretending that really represented the country’s culture just because it was sung in its national language is ludicrious. This may blow peoples mind but Eurovision has always been a pop music show and countries send pop music and pop music is popular music and dance pop is what people are going to send in the current day.

[iwantoseeafrigatebird]

So, regarding my cycling/camping/wild-camping trip to Orkney. I'm currently drafting this in Brown's Hostel, Stromness... going to catch the 6:30 ferry tomorrow morning and back to bleak reality.

gonna be breaking the trip's brief account into parts due to the restraint of number of pictures i can put into each post. will post it as i write it so i can assemble a master post...

I got the idea of cycling/wild camping from a lady who did this in the hebrides in her youth which was in the 70s, 80s. Got the idea of going to Orkney from well, the lost Franklin expedition, another lady who's been going to Orkney almost every year for the past few decades or so, and being handed a card abt the orkney storytelling centre. So handed in my dissertation, moved, bought a second hand bike, strapped my gear onto it, was terrified for a bit there and didn't research much until the last minute, but thought if I didn't go then I ain't never going.

part 1

day 1

my poor bike at waverly.

I was doing a bit of an experiment, so instead of my summer sleeping bag I brought a heavy army surplus wool blanket instead. I wanted to see what it feels like to sleep in blankets. The conclusion is it's fine as long as the temperature is above 9 degrees celsius. But my insulation mattress is leaky so had to get up every three hours to reinflate it. Apart from that, with a bit of help from the sudden balmy weather that graced this part of Scotland, I was mostly warm enough.

So off I went, arriving at Thurso at 11 pm. Cycling 13 miles in the dark towards Dunnet head to see the lighthouse in action (it marks the most northerly point of mainland scotland). Exploring an abandoned seaside house on the way and seeing a dead rabbit (the next morning I saw it again, with its bowels exposed, a crow was pecking at it, which made me feel better as the energy of that rabbit is not going to be wasted). If I was a braver man and brought a better knife I would've strapped it to my bike and skinned it, but I'm too frightened of catching something from eating it.

Dunnet head lighthouse in action.

It was a surreal experience, sitting next to the lighthouse looking into its heart of diamond (the beautiful beautiful fresnel lens) projecting a slowly rotating crown composed of columns of light in total darkness. It was raining and the wind was picking up. I scrambed a bit to try and find a spot to set up camp, almost ended up in a loch (the loch, is black; the unilluminated field, is black; the night, is black; I could't see shit but the falling rain in front of the light mounted on my bike, they fell like silver needles). Camped on heather between three lochs and the sea. At least its a well drained area.

-

day 2

Before catching the ferry to st Margaret's Hope, went up to see the lighthouse in daylight. And all the beautiful cliffs & sea view that I missed in the dark.

Sheltered in a pub in St. Margaret's Hope for a few hours, then went to camp in a wilding hotspot, the Hoxa beach.

The rain just abated but the wind was 37km/hr, got some help from a couple (John and his Danish wife) so after a bit of a struggle finally set up the tent. Wonderful folks, gave me eggs and toast (and extra tent pegs for windy weather). They are from southeast Scotland, somewhere called "Gales Bay" if you translate the name into English.

(tbc)

[pavlovsbimbo]

The Meeting

An experiment in 2nd person writing.

Ugh! You slept in. And today's the all day meeting about process improvements or whatever. I mean at least it's not really important, but it wasn't going to look good to be late, for sure. An all day meeting, hosted by your new manager, with drop in attendance from his boss and his boss's boss, and you're running at least 30 minutes late. Fuck.

After a rush to get ready, and out the door, almost forgetting your badge and computer, you make it - but even later and with no caffeine. You get to the meeting room, excuse yourself and sheepishly grab coffee from the carafe and one of the mini danishes. Breakfast of champions...

You settle in and try to focus. "How can we improve the culture?" Is up on the screen, black text on a dull grey background. 'The vaguest possible question', you think, but thankfully your lead takes the queue and manages to speak about the importance of teamwork and being open as you drift off. ... You have a dream, almost too brief to remember, something about helping your team and how happy you are to do so.

You awake with a start, and hope you didn't snore. You down the rest of your coffee and whatever is left of your danish, hoping either the calories or the caffeine will kick in and you'll make it to lunch time.

Focus! The screen says, "how can we improve quality?". 'Is the whole day like this?' You think to yourself, the questions so broad as to give no indication of even where to start. One of the senior folks on your team starts in on the question though, "well, happy, focused employees get more into their work and produce higher quality results.". You nod along, that makes sense, you're positive you read something similar somewhere, and your manager asks the group, "okay so how can we make our employees happier and more focused?". People around the room chime in with ideas for rewards or how to focus on the fun. Your lead is in the middle of a detailed rant about how it's your responsibility to make their coworkers happy as you're starting to drift off again. He means, it's the whole team, right? But you're losing the thread again, slipping into a dream where your coworkers are all around you, and so much taller than you, telling you what a good job you're doing. It feels good, really good, like you could just rub to this moment and...

You wake up, flushed, hot, - how did that happen? You're a bit embarrassed but you try to act casual and can only hope that you didn't moan in your sleep. The team meeting has apparently been droning on and when you feel that it's safe you sneak a glance at the rest of the team, did anyone else doze off? Nope, just you apparently, your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you hope it's not too obvious. Your coworker makes eye contact with you and smiles - a wave of pleasure rolls over you as you find yourself sort of melting out of your chair and onto your knees. You look up at the team, searching for words. The presenter laughs and smiles, "Oh it's okay! We were just talking about how that's the best place for you to make the team more productive!" Everything else blurs away as your mind fills with images of what that means, the person across the table from you spreads their legs a bit and gives you a look. Warmth fills you as you crawl towards them underneath it and realize this is exactly what you've always wanted.

[legend-collection]

Erlking

In European folklore and myth, the Erlking is a sinister elf who lingers in the woods. He stalks children who stay in the woods for too long, and kills them by a single touch.

Pic by Sammycat17 on deviantart

The name "Erlking" is a name used in German Romanticism for the figure of a spirit or "king of the fairies". It is usually assumed that the name is a derivation from the ellekonge (older elverkonge, i.e. "Elf-king") in Danish folklore. The name is first used by Johann Gottfried Herder in his ballad "Erlkönigs Tochter" (1778), an adaptation of the Danish Hr. Oluf han rider (1739), and was taken up by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe in his poem "Erlkönig" (1782), which was set to music by Schubert, among others. Goethe added a new meaning, as "Erl" does not mean "elf", but "black alder" - the poem about the Erlenkönig is set in the area of an alder quarry in the Saale valley in Thuringia. In English translations of Goethe's poem, the name is sometimes rendered as Erl-king.

According to Jacob Grimm, the term originates with a Scandinavian (Danish) word, ellekonge "king of the elves", or for a female spirit elverkongens datter "the elven king's daughter", who is responsible for ensnaring human beings to satisfy her desire, jealousy or lust for revenge. The New Oxford American Dictionary follows this explanation, describing the Erlking as "a bearded giant or goblin who lures little children to the land of death", mistranslated by Herder as Erlkönig in the late 18th century from ellerkonge. The correct German word would have been Elbkönig or Elbenkönig, afterwards used under the modified form of Elfenkönig by Christoph Martin Wieland in his 1780 poem Oberon.

Alternative suggestions have also been made; in 1836, Halling suggested a connection with a Turkic and Mongolian god of death or psychopomp, known as Erlik Chan.

Johann Gottfried von Herder introduced this character into German literature in "Erlkönigs Tochter", a ballad published in his 1778 volume Stimmen der Völker in Liedern. It was based on the Danish folk ballad "Hr. Oluf han rider" "Sir Oluf he rides" published in the 1739 Danske Kæmpeviser. Herder undertook a free translation where he translated the Danish elvermø ("elf maid") as Erlkönigs Tochter; according to Danish legend old burial mounds are the residence of the elverkonge, dialectically elle(r)konge, the latter has later been misunderstood in Denmark by some antiquarians as "alder king", cf Danish elletræ "alder tree". It has generally been assumed that the mistranslation was the result of error, but it has also been suggested (Herder does actually also refer to elves in his translation) that he was imaginatively trying to identify the malevolent sprite of the original tale with a woodland old man (hence the alder king).

The story portrays Sir Oluf riding to his marriage but being entranced by the music of the elves. An elf maiden, in Herder's translation the Elverkonge's daughter, appears and invites him to dance with her. He refuses and spurns her offers of gifts and gold. Angered, she strikes him and sends him on his way, deathly pale. The following morning, on the day of his wedding, his bride finds him lying dead under his scarlet cloak.

Although inspired by Herder's ballad, Goethe departed significantly from both Herder's rendering of the Erlking and the Scandinavian original. The antagonist in Goethe's "Der Erlkönig" is the Erlking himself rather than his daughter. The Erlkönig appears to a young boy in a feverish delirium - his father, however, identifies the apparition as a simple streak of fog. Goethe's Erlking differs in other ways as well: his version preys on children, rather than adults of the opposite sex, and the Erlking's motives are never made clear. Goethe's Erlking is much more akin to the Germanic portrayal of elves and valkyries – a force of death rather than simply a magical spirit.

In Angela Carter's short story "The Erl-King", contained within the 1979 collection The Bloody Chamber, the female protagonist encounters a male forest spirit. Though she becomes aware of his malicious intentions, she is torn between her desire for him and her desire for freedom. In the end, she forms a plan to kill him in order to escape his power.

Charles Kinbote, the narrator of Vladimir Nabokov's 1962 novel, Pale Fire, alludes to "alderkings". One allusion is in his commentary to line 275 of fellow character John Shade's eponymous poem. In the case of this commentary, the word invokes homosexual ancestors of the last king of Zembla, Kinbote's ostensible homeland. The novel contains at least one other reference by Kinbote to alderkings.

In Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files, there is a character called the Erlking, modeled after the leader of the Wild Hunt, Herne the Hunter.

In the author John Connolly's short story collection Nocturnes (2004), there is a character known as the Erlking who attempts to abduct the protagonist.

The New Yorker's "20 Under 40" issue of July 5, 2010 included the short story "The Erlking" by Sarah Shun-lien Bynum.

A version of the Erl-King is mentioned in Zoe Gilbert's Mischief Acts, implied to be a figure related to Herne the Hunter.

In Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher saga, the highest leader of the Folk of the Alder elves, Auberon Muircetach, is also known as the Alder King. In the story, he maintains thematic ties to kidnapping: the Wild Hunt, known for abducting humans, is subordinate to him, and he orchestrates the imprisonment of Cirilla.

[dear-indies]

heya do you know of any fcs who have played a role or just generally look more punk/alt and who have resources? (big bonus if they are tattooed) thank you

Benjamin Bratt (1963) Peruvian of Quechua descent, German (including Sudeten German), and English - DMZ.

Clemens Schick (1972) - Barcelona-Krimi: Blutiger Beton.

Chris Messina (1974) - Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey.

Lesley-Ann Brandt (1981) English, East Indian, German, Spanish, Dutch, Khoisan, Ashkenazi Jewish - Lucifer.

Miyavi (1981) Japanese / Korean-Japanese.

Nyla Rose (1982) Oneida / African-American - is a trans woman.

Riz Ahmed (1982) Pakistani - Sound of Metal.

Levy Tran (1983) Vietnamese.

Richard Cabral (1984) Mexican.

Asia Kate Dillon (1984) Ashkenazi Jewish / Unspecified - non-binary and pansexual (they/them).

Jaimie Alexander (1984) - Blindspot.

Clayton Cardenas (1985) Mexican and Filipino.

Deepika Padukone (1986) Konkani Indian - XXX: Return of Xander Cage.

Maika Harper (1986) Inuit - Mohawk Girls.

Kali Reis (1986) Wampanoag, Nipmuc, Cherokee, and Cape Verdean - is Two-Spirit (she/her) and queer.

Diane Guerrero (1986) Colombian - Doom Patrol.

Jurnee Smollett (1986) African-American, possibly other / Ashkenazi Jewish - in Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey, The Twilight Zone.

Uraz Kaygılaroğlu (1987) Turkish - Üç Kurus.

Ritu Arya (1988) Indian - The Umbrella Academy, Humans.

Macarena García (1988) - Pesar De Todo.

Nico Tortorella (1988) - is non-binary (any pronouns), poly and demisexual.

Mae Whitman (1988) - pansexual - Jack.

FKA twigs (1988) African-Jamaican / English, Spanish.

Tóc Tiên (1989) Vietnamese - Furies.

Rob Raco (1989) - Riverdale.

Hannah John-Kamen (1989) Nigerian / Norwegian - Killjoys.

Úrsula Corberó (1989) - Money Heist, Snake Eyes.

Tom Maden (1989) French, Belgian [Walloon], Portuguese, Afro Caribbean, African-American, English, German - Lifeline.

Chang Ryul / Yull Jang (1989) Korean - My Name.

Yamada Yuki (1990) Japanese - Tokyo Revengers.

Eric Graise (1990) African-American - is a bilateral amputee - Queer as Folk.

Oliver Stark (1991) - MindGamers.

Ryan Sitkowski (1991)

Vico Ortiz (1991) Puerto Rican - non-binary (they/them) and poly.

Tyler Posey (1991) Mexican / English, Scottish, Irish, German, distant French - is queer and sexually fluid.

Avan Jogia (1992) Gujarati Indian / English, Welsh, some German, Irish, French - Johnny, Now Apocalypse.

Jessica Henwick (1992) Chinese Singaporean / English - The Matrix Resurrections.

Kiana Madeira (1992) Irish, Unspecified First Nations, Black Canadian / Portuguese - Fear Street.

Simone Susinna (1993) - 365 Days: This Day.

Bia Arantes (1993) Brazilian - Órfãos da Terra.

Park Gyu Young (1993) Korean - Sweet Home.

Joseph Quinn (1993) - Stranger Things.

Yves Mathieu East (1994) Afro Asian - is queer.

Emma Dumont (1994) - The Gifted.

Remington Leith (1994) Unspecified Indigenous Brazilian and White.

Keshi / Casey Luong (1994) Vietnamese.

Lyrica Okano (1994) Japanese - The Runaways.

Lily Sullivan (1994) - Romper Stomper, Evil Dead Rise.

Natasha Liu Bordizzo (1994) Chinese / Italian - Ahsoka.

Lina Ahn (1994) Korean.

Sasha Lane (1995) African-American, Māori, English, Scottish, Sorbian, French, Cornish, distant German, Italian, Belgian Flemish, Russian, and Northern Irish - is gay and has schizoaffective disorder.

Sophia Taylor Ali (1995) Pakistani / Sicilian Italian, Danish, Norwegian, German - Uncharted.

Ryan Potter (1995) Japanese / Ashkenazi Jewish, Swedish, English, German - is bisexual - Titans.

Adeline Rudolph (1995) Korean / German - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Resident Evil.

Rish Shah (1995) Indian - Do Revenge.

Brandon Perea (1995) Filipino and Puerto Rican - Nope.

Ashton Sanders (1995) African-American - Native Son.

Kehlani (1995) African-American, French, Blackfoot, Cherokee, Spanish, Mexican, Filipino, Scottish, English, German, Scots-Irish/Northern Irish, and Welsh, as well as distant Cornish, Irish, and possibly Choctaw - non-binary womxn (she/they) and is a lesbian.

Emma Mackey (1996) - Sex Education.

Leah Lewis (1996) Chinese - Nancy Drew.

Rhea Ripley (1996)

Tati Gabrielle (1996) Korean, African-American / African-American - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Uncharted.

Hero Fiennes Tiffin (1997) - After.

Do Han-se (1997) Korean.

Evan Mock (1997) Bisaya Filipino / White.

Lizeth Selene (1997) Mexican [Black, White, and Unspecified Indigenous]- is genderfluid and queer (she/they).

Archie Renaux (1997) English, Punjabi Indian - Gold Digger.

Murakami Nijiro (1997) Japanese - Alice in Borderland.

Bahar Sahin (1997) Turkish - Duran.

Chella Man (1998) Hongkonger and Jewish - is deaf, genderqueer and pansexual (he/they) - Titans.

Brianne Tju (1998) Chinese, Indonesian - High School.

Fin Argus (1998) - genderqueer (they/them).

Beabadoobee (2000) Ilonggo Filipino - is bisexual.

Quannah Chasinghorse (2002) Hän, Gwich’in, Sicangu Oyate Lakota Sioux, and Oglala Lakota Sioux.

CG (?) Black - non-binary (they/them) - Queer as Folk.

MEMO FOR ME TO WORK ON MOVING MY ALTERNATIVE FACECLAIM MASTERLIST TO GOOGLE DOCS SO I CAN ADD MORE PEOPLE BC THE TUMBLR MASTERLIST HAS A LIMIT!

All of these have resources, anon!

[harrison-abbott]

[Copenhagen - Travels.]

Flying across the North Sea yon come across these knife-like islands

Ragged against the water; blustery and cold looking: and they make you

Think of those men violent men who bustled in boats a thousand years

Back, seeking new land on new coasts and determined for spoils.

Much of the language you speak is down to them, and now you’re coming

Here a thousand years later, all numbed-eared from aerodynamics, all

Spoiled with the sights of clouds from such a height as the Vikings could

Never see … And so, let’s explore this new country and see what happens.

It’s an early flight and so the airport is super quiet upon arrival. Doesn’t

Seem like an airport, only an airy space with folks wandering around.

But, when you get to the Border gates, and meet a woman with black hair

Through the strong window glass, she goes, “Why are you in Denmark?”

In quite a blunt manner. But you play the civilian: “I’m just a tourist.

Back on Wednesday.” She asks you if you’re with somebody and you say

No it’s only me.

You get the metro into the city. There is always something profound

About entering another nation when you walk up from the concrete

Metro steps and into the light, width and wind of a novel town.

You come out onto a square 500 yards in breadth and pockmarked with

Pigeons and layered with cobblestones and centred with a fountain brimming

In blue and white. You sit on one of the benches for a while. The winds really

Are quite nippy and they flap your hood.

There are five hours until your hotel opens for reception and so you fancy

A wander to kill some time. Off you go walking to see what’s what.

Starlings explode from the rooftops in shotgun fodder ballet, soundlessly,

And then disappear again overhead. There are lots of gulls, too, keen on

The fish fodder from the restaurants; that acidic biting smell of fried fish

From the restaurant tables outside – with the tent plastic flapping overhead.

You go into a shop and buy some things and it’s super expensive from what

You were expensive and a young woman serves you and she giggles a little

At your locational ignorance over how to make the payment, how to handle

These bizarre coins.

You head south. Towards the canal district.

The sun expands the green water and it alights the housing from the eighteenth

Century along the straights of the esplanade in pink blue yellow green & gold.

Like walking alongside postcard vanity in real time. The boats, too, hang above

The half fairy / half murky water. They don’t quite have a purpose aside from to

Float there in touch maritime vibe: with the wrist-thick brown ropes tied to the

Steel rings by the sidewalk. And their names in RAINBOW CAPITAL LETTERS,

Gleaned across their fronts and sides. You don’t see anybody in their hulls and

The seagulls perch above their masts and twitch and observe the humans fluttering by.

You head out of the tourist district and into the south of the city, going along these

Skinny spans of sea, and you wonder what it would be like to fall in the water.

There are no fences or walls above the drop, and you ponder how many folks have

Fallen in the past – how many stories there are about that …

You look across the watery spans and in the distance you see the industrial area of

Copenhagen, with these tall tunnels erect against the sky, churning hard smoke.

And, before those, a quarter mile away, are the navy boats. These Goliath military

Ships, proper war material. Except, ironically, when you see them for the first time

They look like they’re coloured in those Airfix paints that you used to colour in

Plastic soldiers when you were a boy: they have that same toyish tinge of grey,

That seems to distract from their size and power …

Stopping by another bench nearby, you sit there for a bit.

Some man in his fifties or so comes up to a bike which is stationed close to the bench.

He says something in Danish that you don’t understand, but you

Figure if he’s asking if this is your bike? So you respond, no, politely.

Bikes.

You’d heard Copenhagen was a ‘Bicycle City’. But, Jeepers.

The bikes clog up the roads in a clunky manner and yet they glitter effortlessly

In the sun in their metallic paint; and they suffocate each street you meet

And yet they keep breathing at the same time: and the cyclists aren’t fast or

Manic or aggressive like they are in other places: they’re just always flowing.

Young women on bikes; boys wearing headphones, biking; older women without

Helmets gliding along: older men with cigarettes from their lips, pedalling.

[Makes you want to hire a bike as well to enjoy the experience and get with the

Programme, but, you have a few bad memories with cycling and kinda retired

Half a decade ago.]

Your hotel should be opening soon.

So you head back north towards the location.

As you go you pass lots of jogging folks as well. Most of them are female.

And you watch the shapes of their bodies, of their faces, in ripe milliseconds.

… When you do get to the hotel, the reception lady is Spanish. Brown hair, eyes,

Skin: she was speaking in that elastic language with somebody else when you

Entered. She gives you the keys to your door. At this point you’ve been awake for

Way over a day. An absence of sleep distorts your thinking. When you get into your

Room, a great tiredness goes over you. And you eat a little bread and humous

Before heading onward. And down the corridor of the hotel room you can hear the

Voices of the other residents, too. There are further Spanish girls. And some of them

Are Polish. Some Danish and some from England. A whole mix of nationalities.

Shall get some sleep in for now. And explore further tomorrow.

[granvarones]

The first time I heard the euro-pop sensation Aqua’s Barbie Girl was in the summer of 1997, at a party We The People organized in Clementon Park, New Jersey. The DJ was mixing bona fide house hits with contemporary jams. I remember this so vividly because I watched someone do “hand performance” to the song that was a newly minted hit. This was also one of those moments that I definitely knew I was gay because I felt like Barbie Girl was composed for LGBTQ folks; not sure how I came to that conclusion, but it just felt gay. I was 13 years old, journeying through puberty and trying to understand myself, but I recognized the subtle ways queer culture could be found in pop music. And now, more than 25 years since I first heard Barbie Girl, it remains a song that resonates and reminds me of what is remembered, who has gone, and the richness of their lives.

We The People was an AIDS service organization in Philadelphia, serving the most vulnerable HIV positive community, and my mother Melody E. Beverly worked there. Most of the organization’s service population was Black and brown people, people who inject drugs, and housing-insecure people with an AIDS diagnosis. It had a brick-and-mortar building at the corner of Broad and Lombard Street. Now a Taqueria with its own controversial history, at the end of the 1990s, it held precious work of caring for the community, with housing units atop, with an industrial-style kitchen. I remember this because I loved volunteering with building residents, preparing and cooking meals. I also had a thing for the biscuits that were often there.

On a hot day in the summer of ‘97, my mother and I arrived to begin boarding a bus to head over to the party at Clementon Park, which also included barbeque. While waiting to board the bus, I overheard Curtis speaking to a Black man who seemed exhausted if he had been taking AZT. This was a year after HAART was established as a standard for HIV care, and people were taking what we now know to be toxic medicine to manage their HIV. The introduction of highly active antiretroviral therapy, or combination therapy, would mean that people who had been living with HIV could live longer lives. I always think about that moment of Curtis checking in with a community member about his health when navigating my own care. I still appreciate the way it was normalized as a communal approach to medicine adherence. Curtis was my mother’s supervisor. He was a charismatic Black gay man with a bald head. Curtis was the sweetest and most sincere person. He was also a drag performer, I had seen him perform for a holiday party and was in awe of him.

Aqua, a Danish musical group, released their single Barbie Girl in April 1997, from their debut album Aquarium that was released in March of the same year. The track has a synth-pop-house vibe to it, with bubblegum vocals from lead singer Lene, who plays Barbie in the music video for the song. René, another band member, plays Ken, in a campy and hilarious capture of a Barbie world; it does a beautiful job of both bringing humanity to a plastic doll and making the cringey nature of American consumerism visible in a funny way. This is ironic, because during a 2017 interview for Nylon Lene disclaims its politics and sexist overtones by stating that “it was kind of making fun of the Pamela Anderson kind-of girl” and says the song is “super-innocent.” To me, Barbie Girl now appears to be making a statement about bodily autonomy and misogyny. With the incessant lyric, “I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world.” This song makes me think about people who lived with HIV, like Curtis, who were living full and flourishing lives at a tender and promising point in the ongoing AIDS crisis.

Barbie Girl topped global charts and was part of a musical era that included the resurgence of unapologetic bubblegum pop music, led in part by the Spice Girls’ Wannabe, a year earlier. Barbie Girl peaked at number 7 on the US Billboard Hot 100.

Now the song has a new life in the context of Barbie, the anticipated movie featuring Margot Robbie as the title character original Barbie. Barbie World, a rap track by Nicki Minaj & Ice Spice for the Barbie soundtrack, samples Barbie Girl in a perfect way. I’m most certain Barbie Girl will have a second life on TikTok and a new generation will be embraced by the gummy-gayness of late nineties music, and remember that there were people who existed then, plagued by an epidemic that rendered their stories untold. They too are Barbie Girls, even in their afterworlds, they paved the way for us to live fantastically in the skin we’re in.

Signed, a Barbie Girl from the nineties.

I’m always yours Xx

Abdul-Aily Muhammad ( @mxabdulaliy )

They/Them/Thiers

gran varones Mentor

Philadelphia, PA

[lunewell]

Got bored, and translated one of the most popular Danish versions of the folk song "The Two Sisters" into English, trying to keep the rhythm and rhyming scheme and trying to make it sound good without losing the general meaning

Also here's a link to one of the many covers of this specific version on spotify, if you want to give it a listen (:

There lives a farmer on quiet isle Who fathered two pretty girls One was bright and milky white The other was black as earth And the man they both loved most in life Wanted the youngest as his wife — No one shall forget my fate when they hear the harp sing its song — The youngest hair flowed in the wind The oldest was biding her time: “Let us to the ocean go,” “To wash off the dirt and grime,” The youngest stood freely on stones so wide And with a single push fell towards the tide — No one shall forget my fate when they hear the harp sing its song — There were two fiddlers by the shore Though they quickly stopped their stroll When they saw the sisters corpse Washed up and still on shoal From her bones and golden hair They made a harp just as fair — No one shall forget my fate when they hear the harp sing its song — The harp is brought into the farm And everyone knows its song “My sister took my life so young But never shall she take my man Tonight she’ll have her wedding day But tomorrow the flames will burn her away — No one shall forget my fate when they hear the harp sing its song —”