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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 4 years ago

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Titanic Mothers (Mother’s Day 2021 Drabbles)

Dedicated to all Mothers in the world, whether by birth, adoption or otherwise. Take the time to wish the woman who helped you become the person you are a very blessed Mother’s Day.

Of course I cannot have done this without thanking my pen pals @lightdusk96 @mothnem @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @fireflyxrebel-writes @tarisilmarwen @bluerene and many others

So without further ado....

Arella Roth

The peaceful, serene and calming orange tinted skies of Azarath are in many ways are therapeutic sort to admire under. For Arella, they are a perfect sort of skies to step outside for a nice and simple meditation. The Monks’ efforts in freeing her mind and grief in light of the numerous....series of events surrounding her entire life, whether being her harsh childhood and especially her unfortunate encounter with that bastard of a devil known as Trigon the Terrible, all of it had truly done some wonders in giving her a chance to appreciate life though clearly that grief runs deep, requiring an additional amount of effort on her end to counter it.

As Arella assumes lotus position on the balcony and lights two candles to her sides, she closes her eyes. She begins steadying her breathing and clears her mind...no easy feat though sine almost about a few seconds into clearing it, the scepter of Trigon and her tyrant of mother start coming in. The harsh words of shame, the demonic laughter, those taunts, the curses, they all start piling onto her mind, no her soul all at once. Her breathing starts picking up speed. She must remember what the Monks taught her....peace...find her inner peace...find what makes her find said peace...then within the blackened and harsh void of darkness clouding her mind...Arella sees it. That peace, a tiny stream of white light...a small bird. The bird starts getting closer, it’s wings start opening, dispelling the black void surrounding her...

As her mind starts feeling the calming light clear it out, Arella peeks open her right eye very slightly, sure enough there she was. Her light, her inner peace, her white bird, her very daughter.

Little Rachel Roth, barely eight years of age as of now, was also in lotus position, practicing the very same meditation her mother was doing right now. She too looked at her meditating partner to her side and sure enough, both realize...’why stop now’ and both wordlessly give each other a small smile, a nod and both continue mediating.

Arella, upon closing her eye back, says, “Okay, Rachel, now repeat after me...”

“Yes, Mom”

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos....”

Marie Logan

“Garfield” Maire called out for maybe the fifth time, passing by the tall tree next their camper yet again.

Her six year old little explorer of a boy had a tendency to run off whenever he was bored. Thankfully, he’d never venture into the nearby jungles or savannas the Logans visit too far, he always keep relatively close to make sure he knows his way back safely. Still, as a mother, Marie has her fair share of concerns for his well being since who knows what kind of animals he can run into this time.

However, the fifth time calling for him appears being the charm as sure enough, she can hear the branches creaking and the leaves rustling above her. Looking upward, sure enough, there he was, climbing down the gigantic branches with such agility before finally landing safely right next to her. His blond hair and crisp green eyes shone brightly as Garfield beams to his equally smiling mother.

“Found anything up there my explorer?” Marie asked while picking her son into her arms.

“Nah”, Garfield replied, “plenty of birds like the manual said would ‘round here but they flew away”

“Well, must be cause they didn’t want to hear about Wicked Scary just yet”, Marie says lightly giggling while ruffling her son’s hair, “maybe they just didn’t wanna get it spoiled you know?”

Garfield sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah, guess so.”

Dr. Elinore Stone

Fixing her goggles, Dr. Stone narrowed her eyes within them ever so slightly. Next to her, ten year old Victor was equally wearing goggles but also adorably having oven mittens on his hands while holding on tightly to the beaker of green fluid over the larger one with orange fluid.

It was ‘Take Your Kids to Work Day’ at STAR Labs and both Elinore and her husband Silas had taken their son over to both explore where his parents’ worked at and even take part in a family friendly activity like this one.

Lightly guiding her gloved hands over Vic’s, the two together start pouring the green fluid from the beaker the latter was carrying very slowly into the one with the orange substance. The chemical reaction from the larger beaker was almost immediate since it started changing into a multitude of bright colors and bubbling.

“Alright son”, Elinore exclaimed proudly as her son beamed to her happily, “I think you’d just be quite the perfect chemi...”

KA-BOOM!

The lab immediately filled with a light with still irradiating cloud of smoke so rapidly that Silas immediately opened the windows to let the air clear.

As the smoke cleared out safely, both Elinore and Victor were thankfully completely fine aside the black soot covering their faces, their hair standing up embarrassingly, all the while Vic still holding onto that plastic beaker in his hands, muttering with a chuckle, “or not.”

Empress Luand’r of Planet Tamaran

The royal gardens within the palace walls have always been a true sanctuary in many ways. In contrast to the barren and strip-mined prefectures right outside said palace walls, ravaged by years of constant fighting and war, the gardens housed a peaceful and tranquil environment that not provides the many fauna a suitable home, but also anyone who ventures within a calming place to contemplate and even find joy in spite of such harsh times befalling the planet.

That’s very much the case for the very Empress of the Tamaraneans as she cannot help but find her smiling at not just the beautiful varying colors, pleasant aromas and lively calmness of the garden the bench she sits upon at this moment but also of the other resident currently enjoying herself alongside her.

Hearing a small voice giggle above her head, Luand’r beams proudly at the sight she sees: her seven planetary cycles of age old little Princess Koriand’r was floating in the air joyously and with such excitement, flying around the numerous branches and leaves of the fauna surrounding her, only stopping every now and then to have her brilliant green eyes observe closely of the leaves she floats right next to.

It was moments of pure innocence like this that always bring the purest joy within the usually lowkey Luand’r since through her, her husband Myand’r and especially their beloved ally and servant Galfore, Koriand’r and her siblings are actually given even int he smallest of doses a life outside of the constant bombardment and sirens their enemies bring on a consistent basis. If only there were some way, some means of escaping this perpetual worry and state of fear this war for their kind’s very sovereignty. If one such means exists, Luand’r here will ensure she and her people, especially her children, can take it.

A hug snaps the Empress out of her thoughts. Looking to her side, she sees Koriand’r wrapping her arms around her. No other options are needed since all the black-haired Tamaranean woman does is simply yet all too lovingly hug her red-haired daughter back.

And so, Empress and Princess sit peacefully underneath the blossoming flowers and leaves of the royal garden, a truly fond way of doing the ‘spending quality time’ as a certain other species called Earthlings call it.

Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson

Gripping the bar tightly, Mary pulls it back while bending her legs starting with tipping her toes over the edge of the platform. Now int position, she looks down from her post and can clearly see the nets are firmly in place and secured well enough. In the very few instances they engage in practice sessions without the nets, as per their acts, it would be just John and her doing such since by now, years of practice and experience worldwide have taught them a thing or few about making sure not a single fall happens on their watch, lest it cause certain disaster.

However, this it wasn’t John that was up here with her for today but, looking to her side and giving him a proud thumbs up, instead was her eight year old son who also gives her a thumbs up. Just two months ago was his birthday on the first day of spring and since then, no ever since he first took to the trapeze ropes when he was four, Mary watched her Little Robin improve and grow with each session, each show and every single time he stands on that platform, taking a leap of faith with his hands on the bars, letting loose to perform a spin or flip in the air before once more stretching his arms to safety of both John and/or her. Today proves not too different, hopefully. Worst case for this, Dick or her fall to nets below instead of the hard sandy floor.

Leaping off the platform with bar in hand, Mary flew the calm free-of-audience noise air with perfect easy, before hearing that trademark crack of the ropes, signal her to let it loose and with a flip in the air transferred successfully to the second bar across from where her son and the platform are, the first bar she gripped on still in hand.

Returning the first bar back to where son is at, now it was on her to ensure he reached her after his turn to swing. As such, Mary began swing the bar she was on back and forth, gaining momentum with each addition swing, only increasing such until it was deemed ready. Sure enough, the bar was swinging at a good pace and now, being the naturally skill contortionist she is, Mary easily positioned the back of knees so that her calves were holding her on the swinging bar, she was hanging upside down if not for the swinging of said bar and most importantly her arms are firmly in a position to stretch as far as they can for a catch. Her part in the act was good to go, now it truly was her son’s turn to fly.

With a nod, his own hands firmly on the bar, in position for the leap and now his mother across ready to catch him, Dick with a wide grin on his face takes the leap of the platform and swings on his bar across the air. This was it, this was the time he gets it right. The creaking of the ropes he waits for is heard, it was time to let the bar loose. Sure enough as he does so, tucking in his legs to his chest tightly, Dick has nothing to hold him but gravity itself.

One....Here’s hoping Raymond and Calvin are seeing this

Two....He can already hear the crowd gasping

Three....Keep it tight and remember make sure you let arms stretch at the right moment Dad says.

And......Four! Dick straightens out his body and stretches his arms as far as he can.

For the briefest of all moments, he was actually flying. Nothing carrying him, no sense of his own weight dragging him down. He was Superman at that moment.

Then he starts loosing his flight, gravity had set in. He stretches his arms just to tiniest bit hoping before air rushes he can....just a little bit....

Sire enough, all too familiar hands clasps onto his own hand. That familiar calloused texture of the palms, the chalky powdery feeling...Dick looks up to all too familiar face, a very beaming and proud one on top of that

“I’ve got you” Mary says lovingly as she can while using her arms to carry her son safely, “Momma’s here, Little Robin.”

The two smile at each other with all too familiar love and happiness in their distinct pairs of blue eyes while Mary’s bar starts slowing down its momentum. Finally as it comes to near complete stop, it was time to safely descend to the safety net below.

Before letting her son’s grips slips from her hands, Mary pulls him up to where she can deliver a small kiss on his forehead.

“You did great!” she exclaims happily. Just then, finally the bar’s swinging comes to stop, allowing Mary to finally lossen her grip on her son, allowing him to safely land on the net below, giggling lightly as he initially bounced on it. Just then, Dick rolled out of the way to give his mother enough space for own safe landing as she unhooks her legs from the trapeze bar and land on the net right next to him.

Mother and son simply lay there on their sides of the net, panting after such an effort before Mary threw her arms around her little boy, hugging him close to her. “You’re learning so fast”, she says panting yet all to happily.

Dick simply lays his head close to her, feeling her all too calming and steady heartbeat, relaxing the both of them.

“Happy Mother’s Day. Momma, Love you”, he whispers to her happily, as he wraps his own around her tightly

Mary can’t help but smile and even have tears of joy glisten her eyes. Pressing a few kisses on her son’s forehead, she whispers in turn, “And I Love you, so, so much, My Little Robin”

#arella roth #marie logan #elinore stone #luand'r #mary grayson #mothersday #rachel roth #garfield logan #victor stone #koriand'r #dick grayson

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umbillicalnoose · 5 years ago

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i think that you would think im pretty and would like my poetry and i want to share it with you. im shy.

to be honest, im very apathetic these days. im not the nice “cutesy baby flower petal boy” i used to be. a lot has happened & im bitter & sullen & all in all, a pretty shitty friend/person to know. i used to possess some redeeming qualities, believe it or not, even if they were construed by the subconscious in an attempt to be likeable - a facade, even tho its only a facade, is still tangible, still there, is still something, even if not authentic. is poorer character forgivable in the name of presenting more authentically? but nah. that makes it sound like im putting effort into being a better person, which im not. im just sort of fried & done. its been a very long time since i played the role i built for myself on here of the “small fawn boy who wants to help girls” lmaooo. how embarrassing. altho, i was just a kid, & i guess, if you had a tumblr as a teenager, you went thru some cringe (i know the use of that word has fallen in on itself & adopted its own definition but for lack of a better one) ass phases, whether it was kinning or malingering mental illness or oh fucking christ, all that gender bullshit, etc etc. from what ive observed, tho, loosely following kids im still casually friends with that i met on here, i think we’ve all managed to Grow The Fuck Up, at least a little. most of us have jobs or r in school or have partners - growing up & moving on is a very surreal experience to watch/go thru. im moving at my own pace & ive accepted that - im still currently using & starving myself & concocting a suicide plan every day but at least i use clean needles as much as possible, i actively & honestly do strive for the bare minimum calorically, & um able to work with the mentality of “well ill have this when i need it but todays not that day” a lot more readily, in relation to suicide shit. ive finally found a therapist who Really Gets It, is a frontrunner internationally on ritual & extreme abuse & mind control. its pretty incredible what a few years with a good therapist can do. anyways. im sorry, i know you didnt ask for all this & im not even sure why i divulged. i guess, what tipped me off, was your attempt at sounsing “cute” - dude, cut that shit out, i promise youll be a lot better off. & i know everyone interchanges aspects of their personality based on who theyre talking to/who they percieve themselves to be talking to, but i feel like not a lot of people give enough credence to the internet & its hand in shaping/molding young people, kids, vulnerable dumbasses, especially tumblr (tho, i get that its a relatively new phenomenon) - u get a bunch of the “weird”, “alternative”, ““ostracized” kids together on a website, of course its gonna nurture a culture of hypervalidatoon & pretending to be sick in order to fit in to the point that its not an act anymore & exacerbation of symptoms & basically, just sucking each others dicks, sitting in ur own shit, & never ending coddling. & then, you have the older group of kids, who have played this game before but instead of helping or ignoring the Dumbshit kids, they indulge their own normally-buried-but-unleashed-by-internet-anonymity sadism/human instinct to just be fucking dicks & so now you have this vicious cycle of anger & hatred & fucking melodrama up the urethra. im sorry, i know im comig off as/am being harsh but god fuckin dammit yknow? also, this isnt directed at you, specifically, more of a generalized thing, @ myself included. so uh. i mean, if u still wanna share it with me after reading all this, id be happy to read ur poetry. i used to be over the top nice & then reverted to Major Asshole & am now trying to find that sweet middle spot - honoring & allowing myself to share my pain without putting it on others. which is really hard!! cuz becoming a Dick was difficult in that it forced me to be more honest with my true self & as such, more vulnerable - now in trying to become Kinda Nice again because despite being a pulsating scrotom, ive had the intense desire for friendship & human interaction, while simultaneously doing things that i was consciously aware was pushing others away - but then, if i pretend to be nice, where does that authenticity i worked for & was so scared of go? & i dont mean telling someone their new haircut looks nice even when it doesnt - thats just not being a dick. but i guess, those r the normal trials & tribulations of any relationship & adolescent developing identity. which is weird too - dealing with “normal” issues, i mean. whats the point if your life/limbs/breaking point arent at risk? whats the point when your best friends already dead. im sick of people calling "survivors” (despise that word, so fucking female-originated & overdramatic) “brave” & “strong” - surviving is not brave or strong. its just survival. you wouldnt call an animal brave for running for its life from a predator but you would call a dog courageous for going into a burning building to save its owner. premeditated action on the notion that you are probably going to be hurt is brave. being subjected to pain with no choice is not. theres no “silver lining” or anything “good” to be drawn from it either - sure it may have made x a more compassionate person or made y more introspective & gentle but you know what would have been even fucking better??? if the shit hadnt happened in the first place! let x be an asshole & y be self absorbed - the “benefits”, so to speak, do not outweigh the cost, not by a long fucking shot. its not only patronizing to hear garbage like that, but a slap in the face to know that anyone could possibly see anything good coming from that nightmare & that the characteristics, good or bad, you developed either in response to or as a result of, are worth praise. dont tell me im strong for doing what i had to to escape a torture chamber - tell me im perseverant for studying my ass off & passing that test last week. in the words of one of my dearest & most fucking brilliant friends, “pain doesnt owe me/you purpose - the need to intellectualize & assign meaning to pain & death is not only futile, but harmful.” & honestly, i think that it stems from weakness (in most cases - i realize theres a plethora of other reasons such as those who r just desperate for something to hold on to or r hyperintellectual & analytical or who have been pressured by external “support” systems to find the “good” etc etc) - while the majority of people view the person who “can find the good in everything” (strictly speaking only in relation to trauma/tragedy here & more in denunciation of those that celebrate this trait as opposed to vilifying “survivors” who respond this way, though in my experience, its very very very rarely the “survivor” that perpetrates this ideology ) as strong, i sort of see it as a weakness - their inability to sit with & absorb their own pain or that of others is so strong that not only do they have to frantically pull rainbows out of the teeth of a meat cleaver, they also have to exist within this strange (tho, not malicious - more subconscious) superiority complex. like, nah, dude, some times shit is just awful. you cant tell me anything fucking good came out of a four year old girl being kidnapped, gangraped, & tortured for two years, before being impaled & left to die on a stake. her mom opened a non profit organization? oh well thank fucking god for that!!! those that believe the latter to be more “enlightened” or whatever the fuck r the same people who say shit like “dying is easy - living is harder” & i get that that its supposed to be interpreted metaphorically for the most part - giving up is easy, trying isnt (which also.....isnt true??? admitting defeat & fully accepting the fact that ur fucking helpless is beyond hard lmao???) - but pretend youre somewhere, anywhere outside ur sunny little fucking yoga studio full of white women whos biggest issues r the pta & johnny whos failing math, & lets say your life is in real, imminent danger, a gun is to your head & i want you to not scream or cry or beg for ur life since dying is “easier”. if dying is so easy, why do the majority of ppl cling to it with such desperation - why is suicide illegal? why do some ppl go thru 100s of chemo treatments even tho the doctors say theyre just prolonging the inevitable, ppl who cut off a diseased arm so it wont spread, those who walk dozens of miles every day for food & water, etc? & i know & understand the survival instinct better than anyone, even when i wanted to die more than anything, my natural instincts would kick in with no conscious neural input & id do what i had to do. im not condemning those who cling to life (ok - a little. ur wasting resources out of ur own fear. but i also realize thats just me being a Fucking Asshole As Always cuz technically, im doing the same thing tho its more due to lack of opportunity rather than fear. i just think, societally, death should be more normalized, discussed, & not made out to be so unknown & scary), instead just reprimanding those who say shit like that (inspirational facebook quotes). especially cuz most of the ppl who do spew that shit have never gone thru anything even remotely difficult - their worst nightmare is a Big Scary Black Man grabbing them on the street, mugging them, & touching their tits. & i also know that these stupid ass sayings are to be applied to bullshit like exercise & fitness (“no pain no gain” is another one of my Favorites) & not fucking torture or even just ur run of the mill rape, even that would probably smash the rose tinted banana republic shades off their beverly hills tanned faces. but ive heard the no pain no gain one a handful of times in the last few weeks, specifically from doctors performing procedures in preparation for my bottom surgery. & i know its supposed to be encouraging & they have no way of knowing, but its just like, buddy, u have no idea who youre fucking talking to. & im starting to understand what THEY mean when they say it - pain with a reward is infinitely more tolerable than pain just for the sake of pain; like, a tattoo, it hurts, but u know, when its done, its gonna be sick as fuck. when u r able to fall back on the idea that its for something u rlly want, its A Lot easier to handle as opposed to pain thats Just Pain - theres no reward for it except, i guess, that the more u experience it, the closer u r to the end of it lmao. i mean, i still hate when ppl say it cuz for most of my life, pain was just pain, & the “reward” was the opportunity to go home at the end & so whenever ppl say that, my mind just immediately resorts back to that & im just like haha fuck u. but im trying to remember my experiences r definitely not universal & im starting to sorta understand what they mean i think. but, flipping gears here, & going back to the sentiment of “everything happens for a reason”, the base philosophy of psuedo deep Fuckwads - a girls dad didnt fuck her “for a reason”, everything doesnt happen “for a reason”. like ok, hypothetically, the kid he impregnated her with & that she was forced to have at 12 may surpass all odds & not become a homeless junkie & instead become a world renowned doctor who finds the cure for cancer. but she wasnt raped repeatedly from the age of six for that “reason”, no matter what anyone says & honestly, the liberation of the masses does not justify the suffering of one, especially a child. in my eyes at least. but again, im a bitter asshole. sorry i just Went The Fuck Off here oh my god.....if u read all this, thanks, pal. if not, thats cool too. but yea, send me ur stuff, id totally be down to read it. as for me potentially thinking ur cute, i have to look at my disgusting shitstain of a “face” every goddamn day so everyone else to me is fuckin aphrodite. but im also tryin to not put so much worth into physical appearance- its not something that should be complimented cuz its just smth a person was born with which is the same reason it shouldnt be insulted. this is gonna sound gay & stupid but i personally find that a persons essence & personality really permeates. you can meet someone who, objectively, isnt all that great looking, but once u get to know them, u really see their beauty - how the sun catches in their hair, their dilated pupils looking up at u from under long eyelashes in the dark, the birthmark on their right shoulder that they despise but that is so Them, the gap in their teeth, etc. & idk how to phrase this without it sounding like “well ur ugly but at least ur a good person”, cuz that only reiterates the societally indoctrinated emphasis on appearance & my kneejerk reaction to assure the person in question that thats not what im saying is only another result of that!!! its inescapable!!! but no, really, its not just a matter of “its on the inside that counts” - physically, they change or maybe, actually this is more likely, when i first meet them, my “default” eyes r just looking for features that i know im immediately attracted to (tall, blonde, sickly as in sunken eyes sticklike pale but still looks like she could & will beat the shit out of me) but as i fall in love or get to know them better, my eyes adjust & i notice & adore the beauty that was there all along. so uh. idk if ill think ur “cute”. but probably, yes, ill think ur an angel.

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adambstingus · 7 years ago

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The 5 Oddest American Trends That Other Countries Stole

America is the great melting pot. Generations upon generations of disparate cultures, all just stewing together in the tasty broth of freedom. That’s what made the country what it is today: A barren hellscape patrolled by Corporate Overbots, murderous brand-enforcement drones whose every thundering step sends fear into- Oh, sorry, that’s tomorrow. We skipped ahead a bit in the chronology. We meant to say, “That’s what made the country what it is today: a cultural powerhouse.” In fact, America Americas so hard that even other, less-American countries have to get in on this All-American action. Like …

North Koreans Hate America (But Love American Brands)

North Koreans are taught that everything wrong with the world — and especially everything wrong with North Korea — is solely the fault of America and the evils of capitalism. That’s why it’s so odd that, when French photographer Eric Lafforgue toured the country to capture a photographic essay of its people, he came back with pics like these:

Eric Lafforgue “Just Do It … Or You Go To Gulag.”

All across Pyongyang, Lafforgue encountered people sporting distinctly American corporate logos: Nike, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse, and … Bart Simpson?

Eric Lafforgue Better to eat shorts than to eat nothing at all.

When asked about the products, citizens didn’t see any problem: They told Lafforgue that they were Chinese in origin. And that’s not entirely wrong — the vast majority of North Korea’s goods are imported from China, aka “America’s sweatshop.”

It doesn’t end at clothing: Here’s an obvious rip-off of America’s favorite soda, creatively relabeled “Cocoa Crabonated [sic] Drink.”

Eric Lafforgue GET CRABS.

After six successful trips to North Korea, and smuggling out hundreds of photos, Lafforgue was eventually banned from the country — whether for exposing its rampant poverty, its hypocritical love of Western products, or just to keep Coke from sending Copyright lawyers to Pyongyang, we simply do not know.

American Subcultures Never Die; They Just Retire To Japan

Japan has no shortage of unique subcultures, ranging from people who dress like dolls, all the way to people who dress like other, more disturbing dolls. But there’s plenty of America in that mix: Take, for example, Chicano Rap, coming at you straight from Tokyo (by way of East L.A., by way of Mexico). It all started when record label owner Shin Miyata became fascinated with everyone’s sixth favorite ’70s cop show, CHiPs, and the Chicano culture depicted therein. The subculture has since grown into a veritable phenomenon, complete with lowriders, black-and-white tattoos, and seriously on-point makeup.

They’re repping Eastside. No, farther east. Farther still …

Performers in the genre don’t mimic cholo lifestyle lightly — they full-on embody it, adopting entirely new identities like MoNa aka Sad Girl, El Latino, and GARCiA. But even Tokyo’s Cholos aren’t as dedicated as Tokyo’s Rockabillies.

This is revenge for Elvis’ “kimono” period.

Unlike America, where Rockabilly has been largely forgotten, the genre saw a huge resurgence in ’80s Japan, and it only grew in the ’90s. Now, on any given Sunday, you can find the Tokyo Rockabilly Club in Yoyogi park. Don’t worry, you can’t miss them: They’ll be the ones decked out in full leather, rocking out to the finest of the ’50s, and sporting duck’s ass hairdos you could — nay, should — ramp a DeSoto off of.

The line between “pompadour” and “anime lightning hair” is a fine one.

European “American Parties” Feature Red Solo Cups And A Million Calories

If Instagram is any indication, “American Parties” have taken Europe by storm, presumably landing at Normandy before sweeping south and to the east.

And you thought they hated us!

Everyone knows the only thing Americans love more than Old Glory and casual racism is fueling their ever-growing waistlines, so one of the most important aspects of an American party is the food: Sloppy Joes, hamburgers, hot dogs, pizza, donuts, popcorn, French fries, soda, and anything else with at least a 500:1 calorie-to-nutrient ratio. But the single most important element of any American Party is, of course, the humble red Solo cup.

And their version of beer pong is somehow more American than ours.

As any ’90s teen comedy film can tell you, it is literally impossible to throw a party in the U.S.A. without red Solo cups. They’re so crucial to the experience that Europeans have taken to begging their U.S.-bound friends and relatives to bring back as many packs of them as their luggage can handle.

That’s presumably also how they smuggle in their party attire, because there’s simply no other way to dress so authentically American:

That cop is missing, like, three layers of riot gear.

Of course, there’s a thin line between authenticity and “wildly offensive.”

Actually, this is pretty authentic too.

Germans Have A Strange Obsession With Playing Indian

Adult Germans have an inexplicable obsession with playing Cowboys and Indians. Well, with the “Indians” part, anyway.

Hey, if your most memorable cultural stereotype was the Nazis, you might widen your net, too.

Actually, digging into it a bit, it may be more explicable than we first thought: When American soldiers liberated Berlin at the end of World War II, they were surprised to find that, just like the kids back home, German children loved to play at a romanticized version of the American Old West. This was largely due to the work of German author Karl May, who drew upon his vast experience of having once read The Last Of The Mohicans to pen a series of novels recounting the thrilling adventures of Old Shatterhand, a German immigrant to America who travels the plains with an Apache leader known as Winnetou.

Those books, in turn, inspired an immensely popular series of 1960s films, and that’s how you wind up with countless Germans — who already have a “thing” for nudity — citing authenticity as an excuse to barely cover their dongs with miniscule strips of leather.

“Hey, baby. Wanna help me use every part of the buffalo?”

Germany is host to hundreds of hobbyist clubs in which “thousands of Germans with an American Indian fetish drink firewater, wear turquoise jewelry and run around places like Baden-Wurttemberg or Schleswig-Holstein dressed as Comanches and Apaches.” These enthusiasts spend their weekends camping out in teepees, reenacting battles between tribes, giving themselves native-sounding names like “White Wolf” and “Great Eagle (but not the Nazi kind),” and just generally doing lots of things involving feathers.

“THIS IS SHAWNEE!”

Brazil Has An Annual Festival Honoring The American Confederacy

If you’re a shitty person looking to flee the consequences of your own shittiness, look no further than South America. You might think we’re referring to its notorious infestation of Nazi war criminals, but they were just following in the grand tradition of defeated racists before them …

Eighty years before the Nazis fled to the sun and fun of Brazil, at least 10,000 Civil War Confederates did the same. Today, their descendants, known as the Confederados, honor their Southern American roots every April at the Festa Confederada in — no shit — Americana, Brazil.

In direct contrast to literally everything you’d rightfully assume about it, the “Confederate Party” is actually a multi-ethnic celebration, where people of every skin color gather to eat fried chicken, dress in period-appropriate clothing, square dance, and remain entirely oblivious to the bigoted roots of the culture they’re celebrating.

“We were told it was about states’ rights and nothing else, yes?”

If anything, the celebration is actively anti-hate, with festival organizers instituting a gate check where burly bouncers filter out anyone displaying the SS, the swastika, the KKK insignia, or any other imagery commonly associated with white supremacy … the obvious exception being, you know, all the rebel flags.

Follow Alyssa on Twitter.

Also check out 5 Bizarre Subcultures Way Crazier Than Anything From Japan and 5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Americans Suck At Partying, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/168769089737

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samanthasroberts · 7 years ago

Text

The 5 Oddest American Trends That Other Countries Stole

North Koreans Hate America (But Love American Brands)

Eric Lafforgue “Just Do It … Or You Go To Gulag.”

All across Pyongyang, Lafforgue encountered people sporting distinctly American corporate logos: Nike, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse, and … Bart Simpson?

Eric Lafforgue Better to eat shorts than to eat nothing at all.

It doesn’t end at clothing: Here’s an obvious rip-off of America’s favorite soda, creatively relabeled “Cocoa Crabonated [sic] Drink.”

Eric Lafforgue GET CRABS.

American Subcultures Never Die; They Just Retire To Japan

They’re repping Eastside. No, farther east. Farther still …

This is revenge for Elvis’ “kimono” period.

The line between “pompadour” and “anime lightning hair” is a fine one.

European “American Parties” Feature Red Solo Cups And A Million Calories

If Instagram is any indication, “American Parties” have taken Europe by storm, presumably landing at Normandy before sweeping south and to the east.

And you thought they hated us!

And their version of beer pong is somehow more American than ours.

That’s presumably also how they smuggle in their party attire, because there’s simply no other way to dress so authentically American:

That cop is missing, like, three layers of riot gear.

Of course, there’s a thin line between authenticity and “wildly offensive.”

Actually, this is pretty authentic too.

Germans Have A Strange Obsession With Playing Indian

Adult Germans have an inexplicable obsession with playing Cowboys and Indians. Well, with the “Indians” part, anyway.

Hey, if your most memorable cultural stereotype was the Nazis, you might widen your net, too.

“Hey, baby. Wanna help me use every part of the buffalo?”

“THIS IS SHAWNEE!”

Brazil Has An Annual Festival Honoring The American Confederacy

“We were told it was about states’ rights and nothing else, yes?”

Follow Alyssa on Twitter.

Also check out 5 Bizarre Subcultures Way Crazier Than Anything From Japan and 5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Americans Suck At Partying, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/

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allofbeercom · 7 years ago

Text

The 5 Oddest American Trends That Other Countries Stole

North Koreans Hate America (But Love American Brands)

Eric Lafforgue “Just Do It … Or You Go To Gulag.”

All across Pyongyang, Lafforgue encountered people sporting distinctly American corporate logos: Nike, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse, and … Bart Simpson?

Eric Lafforgue Better to eat shorts than to eat nothing at all.

It doesn’t end at clothing: Here’s an obvious rip-off of America’s favorite soda, creatively relabeled “Cocoa Crabonated [sic] Drink.”

Eric Lafforgue GET CRABS.

American Subcultures Never Die; They Just Retire To Japan

They’re repping Eastside. No, farther east. Farther still …

This is revenge for Elvis’ “kimono” period.

The line between “pompadour” and “anime lightning hair” is a fine one.

European “American Parties” Feature Red Solo Cups And A Million Calories

If Instagram is any indication, “American Parties” have taken Europe by storm, presumably landing at Normandy before sweeping south and to the east.

And you thought they hated us!

And their version of beer pong is somehow more American than ours.

That’s presumably also how they smuggle in their party attire, because there’s simply no other way to dress so authentically American:

That cop is missing, like, three layers of riot gear.

Of course, there’s a thin line between authenticity and “wildly offensive.”

Actually, this is pretty authentic too.

Germans Have A Strange Obsession With Playing Indian

Adult Germans have an inexplicable obsession with playing Cowboys and Indians. Well, with the “Indians” part, anyway.

Hey, if your most memorable cultural stereotype was the Nazis, you might widen your net, too.

“Hey, baby. Wanna help me use every part of the buffalo?”

“THIS IS SHAWNEE!”

Brazil Has An Annual Festival Honoring The American Confederacy

“We were told it was about states’ rights and nothing else, yes?”

Follow Alyssa on Twitter.

Also check out 5 Bizarre Subcultures Way Crazier Than Anything From Japan and 5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Americans Suck At Partying, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/

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djrelentless · 8 years ago

Text

“I Miss The Dream...Martin, Where Are You?”

January 19, 2014 at 10:18pm

It's January 19th, 2014 (Martin Luther King Weekend). I am thinking about how I would be celebrating this holiday back in the states. For over a decade I was the resident DJ for the longest running Tea Dance in New York City at Escuelita. And every year I made it my mission to create a mixed CD that gave a message of hope and freedom. But after spending most of my time in Toronto after getting married to a Canadian, I have had to get used to the people of color here being of a different background. Remember, my experience is that of an African-American. They do celebrate Black History Month here.

This year has been even more interesting. The headlines and buzz on the news and internet have been choked full of racial and anti-gay incidents. From Madonna taking to Instagram using the n-word to The Bachelor and Sherri Shepherd sharing their views on gays…..it feels like we are moving backwards while all these steps have been taken to go forward.Human Rights and Racism are dividing countries everywhere. And I can't help but wonder what Martin Luther King would have thought about the world today. King never said he was for Gay Rights, but he did work with a major homosexual by the name of Bayard Rustin who organized the march on Washington D.C. where King gave his "I Have A Dream" speech.

I mean….just as I think how far the United States has come by electing its first African-American President, the harsh reality of how much hate is still in the world keeps me from seeing how things have changed. Just look around. I thought it was so innovative that B. Scott was hired by BET (Black Entertainment Television) and now Scott is suing the network for discrimination after they asked him to put on men's clothing so no one would think he was female. We have world leaders like Russia President Vladimir Putin and Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni coming out against the LGBT Communities in their countries. Thank God that Museveni vetoed the bill that would put homosexuals to death, but still called them "abnormal". Studies show that homosexual behavior has been found in over 1500 species. Yet homophobia is found in only one.

So, then I started thinking about what "The Dream" speech meant to me. I believe it inspired me to do my best to support equality. It inspired me to be the ambassador for my people. I believe that everyday when we leave our homes we are ambassadors for our people. Be your people black or white. Be your people gay or straight. You are a representation of your community and what you do in that day and space is a representation of your people. So, I always try to remember that I am a Black Gay HIV+ Man. My very existence…..me being a productive member of society……it all speaks volumes about me and my people. I try to always do the right thing.

For example, since I have been in Canada I have spoken out about racism in the gay community. And both times I have been attacked online, called names and told that I am wrong for expressing my outrage over injustice. Fortunately for me I have not had to endure the violence that Dr. King and his supporters did, but character assassination was just as hurtful. I am grateful for all those who have stood up before me and fought this battle for equality. And I try to remind everyone that activism starts with you. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a huge fan of RuPaul, but early in his career he said one of the most poignant statements: "The biggest political statement you can make is being yourself." So, if you are true to yourself and you don't hide who you are you are making a political statement.

Then I got to thinking about the racial barriers that I have broken. As a DJ, I became the first African-American DJ to spin at many venues that only employed white DJs. For this I have been accused of being a sellout or a wanna-be-white DJ. But many people and artists laid the groundwork for change by being the first. Louis Armstrong was called an "Uncle Tom" for his appearances at all white clubs and in films of his time. So, when I became the first black DJ at The Monster in Greenwich Village it was actually a big deal. I spun for the people who were there. All though the club only hired white or hispanic DJs, they never catered to their black clientele. I played for everyone in my room and I tried to be as inclusive as possible. That's how you build a night. That venue would never be the same. I got fired for playing Hip Hop. Today, they have all kinds of DJs playing Hip Hop for the floor downstairs in The Monster. I was only there for a short time, but I helped re-format that place and got them to change with the times.

Now, I appreciate Hip Hop as a form of the African-American experience, but I am still torn about the use of the n-word. Part of me leaving a gig recently had to do with being the only person of color in a room of white patrons singing along with the lyrics of popular Hip Hopsongs that use the n-word. I tried to point that out, but how do you solve a problem when the people involved don't realize there is a problem? If you have never been discriminated against how can you be expected to empathize with the plight of a person of color? WhenOprah asked Jay Z about the use of the word he stated that "Hip Hop tells stories that the police don't want you to hear." I am all for expressing oneself, but when your words reach around the world shouldn't your words be chosen carefully and represent the collective. The hatred behind the word "nigger" has not changed. No matter how many times you tell yourself that your taking the word back. When other races start believing that because they have a black friend or have a child of color in their family that it gives them a right to use the word, we have lied to ourselves that it is still okay to just run around uttering "nigger" to whoever.

And people like Madonna should know better. I don't care if you have adopted kids fromAfrica or how much black dick you have taken (sorry for being rude, but it's the truth), you are not entitled. There's too much history and pain associated to that word for too many people. I am married to a white man. We do not speak to each other with racial slurs. Out of respect for ourselves and our relationship, we cannot speak to each other like that. We have so much to learn from each other about our lives and cultures. I would hope that the rest of the world could learn that instead of finding new ways to divide everyone.

It wasn't until 2001 that I discovered how racism had evolved. It was my first trip to Londonand it was my first time ever hearing the racial slur, "sand nigger". The other day I ran into a friend who had never heard that term before and was called it to his face. His lover punched the guy and later had to explain what it meant. The sad part is that my friend had decided early on to change his name because he did not want people to discriminate against him because of his heritage. He told me that his teenaged daughter identifies herself as Araband he couldn't be prouder. Represent who you are….always.

As a performer, my alter-ego Jade Elektra tries to break down racial barriers with what a drag performer of color is supposed to be and look like. I have worked in bars and clubs since 1985. I have performed in and watched a lot of drag shows in my years. When I first started, I used to do a lot of Millie Jackson material (mainly because of her monologues really showcased my lip syncing skills). For those who don't know very much about Millie Jackson, she was a very popular R&B singer from the 70's and early 80's and she uses the n-word as a dialogue to speak to her black audience. When I first started female impersonation my early audiences were predominantly black. So, I never gave it another thought. It wasn't until I left Tampa, Florida for New York City that I started performing for a more diverse audience and it occurred to me that my choices of material was a direct reflection of me and where I came from. I wanted to reach a bigger audience and also tell my stories of where I came from. I still occasionally pull out a Millie Jackson track, but I now give a disclaimer about the n-word. Telling the audience that this is part of my history, but not in my everyday vocabulary. My mother (who was an English major in college) always told me to always be articulate when expressing yourself. People judge you by how you speak and what you say.

But it is hard to explain to Canadians about celebrating Martin Luther King's birthday when there are such disregards and disrespect for the man when his own people make flyers for club nights that have nothing to do with his legacy.

http://www.bet.com/news/national/photos/2014/01/twerk-for-mlk-the-worst-martin-luther-king-jr-party-flyers.html#!011615-national-mlk-martin-luther-king-day-fliers-2

I am not naive to think that every event that was held this weekend was really to honor Dr. King. It is still a business. But when Harmonica Sunbeam, Sugga Pie Koko and myself did our Tea Dance at Escuelita we had contests to see who could recite King's "I Have A Dream" speech. We tried to make sure that the entertainment that night reflected and represented our Black Gay Community and their belief in what that speech meant. And 'til this day, I always try to put a message of love, hope and freedom in my music.

When my uncle, Herbert King was teaching me about being a DJ and programing music back in 1980, he always said that you have make sure that you believe in what you are playing and to always know material to tell a story. So, when I do a mix set, I am not only playing for your listening ear but also for your subconscious. My cousin, Tarkesha introduced me to a site called Mixcloud and now I have found a great way to share my music and ideas. I did a mix this year for Martin Luther King and I hope you enjoy it.

http://www.mixcloud.com/djrelentlessny/martin-luther-king-weekend-mix-2014/

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