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justforthesakeofitt · 4 years

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How You Like That (M) Chaelisa (top rosé bot lisa)

Chapter 1

hi. this story contains many mature and adult themes that can be triggering and are just for fictional use. i don't condone any of this in real life, and this is pure fiction. so, therefore, if you can't handle that, please just leave this. but don't report this story.

enjoy 🤍

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(warning. contains strong language, human trafficing, mentions of degradation, corruption, meansé, topsé, idek but the story in general is dark and mature. so if you can't handle that please don't read!!)

🌸

roseanne smirked and swirled her glass around that was filled with her favorite champagne. the armand de brignac brut gold, which cost a mere two thousand two hundred dollars, had made it into the woman her favorite lists, when she tasted it for the first time when she was in France, at the age of nineteen. it made her feel as if she was drinking creamy silk with a lovely flavor, and she was all for that.

her silver hair, with a blueish undertone, was straightened and hung down

her back and over her perky breasts. the tint of her hair matched perfectly with her lamé velvet jacquard mini dress by one of her favorite brands, saint laurent. the dress was a perfect size, as it had been custom adjusted, and hugged her slim waist yet pretty wide hips quite well.

she was seated alone in her comfortable chair, her three bodyguards surrounding her so that she was protected at all costs. being rich had its many perks, but it also came with lots of downsides, such as constantly being exposed to the cruel world that was playing underneath everyone's feet. normal people usually weren't aware of half of the things that were going on behind the scenes of the portrayed world.

the dim and sensual lights that were present in the room, contradicted quite a lot with the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. it seemed as if a night club had meet merged with a dining hall in an expensive mansion, yet they somehow made this entire look and vibe work.

and it was dangerous to know these secrets. behind all the glimmer and glamour of being rich, a lot of dark poison was hiding. and simply being aware of the poison, and knowing about how everything was really being run, was dangerous.

it was dangerous knowing which big companies, who were known for their customer service, actually had ten thousand upon then thousands of illegal so-called 'contract workers' working for them. people in the normal projected world thought that the people working for the minimum wage were being treated as slaves and inhumane, but they never saw the layer of people that were working even lower up than the minimum wage workers. and those were plenty.

billions upon billions of dollars would go down the drain if someone were to reveal that the biggest vegan chain in the world, also owned one of the biggest meat industries. if the companies that were known to fight climate change and induce eco-friendly ways of making products were owned by the same person that was one of the biggest carbon emitters.

if people know, that you know their secrets, your life is at great risk. and since the richest people in the world, all play the same game, you always had to be on your watch. this was no soccer game, where you had a theme behind you. this was like wrestle mania. only the strongest and smartest could survive. and the people that you would think are your friends, are the ones that wouldn't even hesitate to hire an assistant the moment they find a weak spot in you.

"number 603 thirty thousand dollars! going once. going twice. sold to miss kang!"

roseanne chuckled as the blonde girl got pulled off of the stage by her leash that watched attached to her neck. her head hung low and tears were streaming down her face as you could see them shimmer in the dim lights, which made it all more amusing for the woman.

all of them looked like pathetic little lost puppies, getting pulled one by one to the stage where their new fate would be laid out for them. it all depended on who they ended up with.

her best friend, jennie, had found her own little pet this way and had suggested it to her. after years of being alone, and watching her best friend with the girl, she decided to finally come and see for herself. maybe she'd find something interesting here tonight.

jennie's pet, who's name was jisoo, was quite a lucky girl. while jennie was quite a mean and tough person on a daily basis, she had developed a soft spot for her pet. it wasn't that she let the girl get away with shit, but she treated her well. better than these girls usually got treated.

jisoo had behaved so well and served her so graciously, that after one and a half year of her possession, jennie had granted her the privilege of being addressed by her name, which was quite rare for the girls that came from here.

not may of the owners ended up granting their pets the status of being called by their actual birth-given name, and rosé wouldn't be one of them either. while jennie was more of a dominant woman who loved for jisoo to worship her and take care of her, roseanne was the sadistic type.

where jennie received pleasure by letting jisoo worship her feet and have the girl smothered underneath her wet dripping slit, eating her out until her thighs were trembling and she was panting heavily, roseanne wanted the girl to be laying at her feet, whimpers escaping her cracked lips as bruises and cuts were layered on her skin.

the twenty-seven-year-old woman's eyes gravitated towards the podium once again, before she slightly shifted when she saw the girl that got pulled by the thick leather leash.

her black lingerie contrasted beautifully with her pale skin, and her black hair had been put into two sideways ponytails with big red bows attached to them. that could only mean one thing.

she was a virgin.

girls with their hair loose were previous prostitutes or whores that they picked up from the streets, giving them the lowest value in the entire lineup.

girls with ponytails were normal girls that they managed to kidnap but weren't virgins anymore.

but girls with their hair in this innocent style, and cute bows attached to it to give

them an even more pure look, were virgins.

and they sold for the highest prices.

almost everyone wanted a little virgin pet. it was a thrill knowing that all they would associate sex with was their owners. no previous partners or experiences to draw

comparisons from.

just them.

when roseanne saw the girl's face, her doll-like features with her big doe eyes, and her plump pink lips, she knew that the girl was going to be hers.

"number 209! her price starts at a mere five hundred thousand dollars. who bids higher

than that?"

chaeyoung immediately held up her bidding board that had her slim fingers wrapping around the wooden part, "one million!"

another voice rang through the room, a few seconds later, with an offer of one and a half million dollars. but this girl was going to be hers. no matter the cost.

the bidding went on for a while before her offer rang throughout the room of "twenty-five million dollars."

the man, that previously was bidding for the same girl, chewed on his bottom lip before shaking his head.

a smirk grazed roseanne her dark blue colored lips, "number 209 twenty-five million dollars! once! going twice! sold to miss park!"

her eyes locked with her newly bought pet, and she mindlessly licked her lips. the girl's eyes were glossy and looked with a terrified gaze at her.

"yes...--" chaeyoung muttered to herself with s grin, "--be scared, doll. you aren't ready for what I have in store for you."

there were only a few girls left, so she patiently sat through it all, satisfied with her purchase of the evening. non of the girls could top her pet. and for once, she was glad that she had listened to jennie's advice.

after the auction was over, she walked to the back and got handed two briefcases by one of her bodyguards, which she delivered to the woman that was behind all of this.

"you made jessie very happy. i hope the girl will make you happy too."

roseanne hummed and watched as the men were counting the money, before turning her attention back to the woman in front of her, "everything is clean right? no traces. no record and no evidence."

jessie nodded and smacked her bright red lips together, "everything is clean. we tripled checked. the police have already been paid to drop the missing person case, so she has been declared dead. the parents are quite poor too so they won't be able to afford to search for her or take any legal actions. she's dead and has been reborn the moment you bought her."

roseanne smirked and, with a firm handshake, greeted the woman before she made her way into a dark hallway that led to where the girl should be.

she opened the door to a room and saw a black wooden crate, which had been sealed by a lid at the top, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.

when she saw that it was the correct one, she snapped her fingers, making two of the three men quickly make their way over to the side and lifted up the top.

she once again, almost immediately crossed eyes with her toy, and saw how panicked and vulnerable she seemed. this made her feel only more in control and boosted her ego.

there were soft pleading whimpers coming from the bound girl, but she ignored them completely.

after a few seconds of further inspection, the crate got closed again.

"deliver her in an hour to my address. make sure that she keeps whatever bodily fluid she has inside of her. i don't want her to arrive in filth at my place."

she got helped into her thick fur coat, and flicked her hair back, before putting on a peeked black cap.

the men nodded in understanding and turned their attention on the crate. one of them followed her, also functioning as her driver, while the other two stayed behind.

there were two small holes on the top of the crate in the cover, which made sure that the girl got enough fresh air to stay conscious, but not enough to make her feel great, so the chance of her throwing up or peeing herself was a big possibility.

she just hoped that the girl could hold it in, as she was sure that she wouldn't hesitate to hose the poor thing down immediately.

she climbed up the stairs before walking outside.

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it was dark, already around the one at night, so the streets were fairly empty. these illegal legal things, were mostly done at night, just to give extra security and privacy. "ready miss?" her chauffeur asked making her nod, "yes. take me home."

she stared out of the window, the snow slowly cascading down while the streets of Seoul were already covered in a thick layer of the frozen crystals.

it was only november, yet the heavens had sent them snow already. and to be fair, roseanne wasn't complaining.

she smiled as she started to move up the hills, knowing that she was approaching her lovely home.

her and her best friend, jennie, were actually neighbors, which was quite fun. this meant that she could show her new purchase off very soon, as all she had to do was go to the mansion next door. even tho it was a five-minute drive.

the moment the car stopped at the entrance of her house, she got out, hugging her black fur coat tighter around her body, before grabbing her purse and made her way inside.

"the room is ready right?" she asked one of her maids, who nodded and bowed slightly, before helping her out of her coat "yes ma'am. it is exactly like you wanted it to be."

she grinned and stretched herself before yawning a bit and walked inside.

"good. now, all we have to do is wait."

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#writeblr #fanfiction #fanfic #blackpink #blackpink smut #lisablackpink #lalisa manoban #jennie #rosé park #roseanne park #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au #chaelisa #dark fantasy #chapter one #how you like that

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geek-patient-zero · 4 years

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Part 2, Chapter 2

Or: Prospect Fights

Blood War: Masquerade of the Red Death Trilogy Volume 1

Brooklyn, NY—March 14, 1994

Last chapter we were introduced to our second main protagonist (and secret “former” ancient vampire) Alicia Varney, her manservant (and sometimes lover but only if she’s really desperate) Sanford Jackson, and her (ignorantly treated and no doubt illegally owned) pet black panther Sumohn. Miss Varney decided to start her day off by taking her pet for a walk in “Prospect Heights Park”, which Jackson described as a virtual No Man’s Land abandoned by the police and local government to gangs and psychos.

Before we move on, let’s talk a bit about the place.

In real life, the park this chapter takes place in is called Prospect Park. No “Heights”. Looks like Weinberg got the name confused with Prospect Heights, a small but affluent neighborhood and one of five that border the park. The park’s main entrance, Grand Army Plaza, is part of Prospect Heights, so along with the name and location I can see how you can confuse the two.

There really was a point, during the 70′s, where the park was considered dangerous and crime-infested. I know. A place in New York City? In the 70′s? Awful? Nah, can’t be. Back then, 44% of New Yorkers warned others to avoid the park. One New York Times article I’ve found from 2010, about a then-retiring park administrator credited with helping restore the place, begins with this about 1970′s Prospect Park:

Drugs were sold at the carousel. Muggers used the cover provided by the park’s shrubs and foliage. One year, near the skating rink, a man was found shot to death, and another year, the acting supervisor of the zoo was arrested and charged with shooting animals.

In the 1970s, Prospect Park in Brooklyn looked more like a crime scene than the pastoral refuge imagined a century earlier by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux.

As if to advertise the woeful state of the park, in 1976 Columbia, the figure driving atop the arch at Grand Army Plaza, fell over in her chariot, a victim of disrepair.

So don’t go thinking that Weinberg got all this stuff from nothing.

During the 80′s and early 90′s, thanks to efforts from both the city and non-profits like The Prospect Park Alliance, the park was cleaned up and became a nice safe place to take the kids. But this is the World of Darkness, a Harsher, Crueler Yadda Dadda Da, you get the point. Going with the usual theme of “Everything’s Awful, Always, and We’re All Going to Die (And There’s Werewolves N’ Shit)” what little restoration efforts were made to the park in this universe failed miserably. And hoooohoho man did they fail. Here’s how the chapter starts, with a more thorough description of the park now that we’ve got a viewpoint character there:

Huge white signs with blood-red lettering were posted on every gate leading into the park, declaring the area off-limits to law-abiding citizens. The posters, left untouched more as a grim joke than sage advice, were ignored by the crowds of people who constantly entered and left the forested area. Prospect Heights served as the major supply center of illicit drugs, assault weapons, and kept women in New York City. It was also the headquarters of more than a half-dozen major gangs and two terrorist groups.

Anything illegal could be bought for a price in the dense woods. That purchasing the goods required a certain amount of risk was a fact of life. It was all part of the New York scene. Those who couldn’t adapt, left. Or died.

A fifteen-foot-high steel fence surrounded the entire park. The last attempt of a previous administration to keep the cancerous growth of the park from spreading through Brooklyn and the connecting boroughs, it worked more as a barrier to keep the police out than the criminals in. At least once a month, a body was found impaled on the sharp spikes that topped the posts. Several years ago a dozen heads had decorated the pikes for days, a grim reminder of the gang warfare that waged incessantly within the gates.

It’s like if instead of closing down and becoming an auto parts shop, your local Blockbuster turned into a snuff film distributor. Also, goddamn terrorists moved in.

No one dared to enter the park alone, or unarmed. Unless that person was Alicia Varney.

Walking in with a panther doesn’t mean you’re accompanied and armed? Good to know, good to know.

It’s currently early afternoon, and let’s see... She got up at sunrise, which in March would be between six and six-thirty. The events of the last chapter seemed to have taken about over an hour. She’d have to get from Manhattan to Brooklyn in World of Darkness New York City traffic. Assuming she was driven she probably didn’t beat rush hour. If she had really bad luck, she would’ve had to deal with squeegie-men; y’know, those guys who wash the windows of cars stuck in traffic without being asked and try to extort the driver for the “service”? And she’d have to take a route that avoided the Baseball Furies. Add all that up and... I guess? Frankly, early afternoon’s the best case scenario here.

Varney, with Sumohn by her side with a thin leather strip for a leash, enters the park near the giant carousel (which according to the PPA website is the Willink entrance, east side of the park, at Flatbush Avenue and Empire Boulevard). The carousel was “one of the last efforts in the futile attempt to restore Prospect Heights to its former glory”, making it sound like the whole thing was installed recently instead of being a part of the park since the early 1900′s.

Alright, alright, no more park talk. You’re here for vampires, not Brooklyn history, I get it.

The black panther growled softly with every step. A great deal different than an ordinary jungle cat, the monstrous beast possessed more than five senses. It detected hostility in the woods. And death.

After what we’ve been told about the park, no shit, cat.

I’ve seen some WOD vampire OC’s described as having ghoul pets, There’s this one video campaign on Youtube, Blood on the Thames, where the Nosferatu character has a pet ghouled fennec fox. But when you think about it, if ghouling works the same with animals as it does with people, then they’re not really pets. They’re mental slaves, their feelings of love and loyalty toward their owner artificial. They might look happy to see your OC, but in reality it’s having a little heart attack out of fear because the thing rubbing its belly is an unnatural dead thing that God hates and they can’t do anything but let it. And your OC wouldn’t even know.

But I’ve never seen that aspect explored before. In fanworks, Ghouling’s just a way for a vampire to have a pet with an extended lifespan. In official material, there’re other important benefits to ghouling animals. Feeding them a little vampire blood every once in a while makes them bigger, faster, and stronger, and since they’re compelled to be loyal to you, they make useful weapons. We’ll see that a few times in this trilogy.

Sumohn senses something dangerous in the park, and you won’t be surprised to learn that the she and her owner aren’t here just for exercise.

“I feel it too,” said Alicia softly, talking to the panther as if it possessed human intelligence. “They’re out there in the park somewhere. Watching and waiting for me. I first sensed their presence when I woke up this morning.

We saw you wake up this morning. You shimmied around in your sheets naked while thinking about how good it was to be alive. Then took a shower and masturbated. But maybe ancient Mesopotamians have a different way of reacting to threats on their life. How would I know?

Someone wants me dead. They’re hiding in the woods. I thought it best to confront them here, on their home ground, instead of chancing their disrupting my plans for the evening.”

She sensed this one threat in Brooklyn all the way from her Manhatten penthouse. Fucking Methuselahs...

Once they’re far enough into the woods for the setting to be dark and ominous even in the afternoon, Varney takes the collar and leash off Sumohn so it can hunt down her enemies.

Chuckling, Alicia tucked the leather strap into her belt. She had complete faith in her pet. It would find and eliminate those who meant her harm. It was just a matter of time.

While Sumohn’s hunting her enemies, Varney decides to take a stroll and enjoy nature. Big business Manhattan garbage had been cutting into her free time, and it’s been months “since she had experienced the feeling of freedom walking in the woods gave her.” She plans on enjoying it as fully and luxuriously as she does everything else, all the while “mentally” keeping an eye out for threats.

Alicia had no desire to be surprised by unexpected visitors. Jackson had been correct when he said that Prospect Heights was no place for a young, unarmed woman. But Alicia was a great deal older than her bodyguard imagined. And she was not nearly as unprotected as Jackson thought.

She hears Sumohn’s “scream of rage” break the silence, meaning her pet had just made a kill. Unfortunately, despite Varney making it sound like the panther would wipe out her enemies on its own, Sumohn worked too slowly. Varney abruptly realizes that she was surrounded by five other people. She can’t see them yet, but she can sense them with her psychic radar power that I’m assuming is an Auspex power. Two of them are heading toward her, so she summons Sumohn back to her. This being a vampire story, she does this with a brief theater kid monologue.

“I refuse to let anyone interrupt my plans,” muttered Alicia angrily. “Death is not an acceptable option at this stage of the game. Sumohn, attend me. There is killing work to be done here.”

The two hostiles reach her.

“Hey, lady?” The speaker was a short, thin man around thirty, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans. He wore no shirt, despite the cool March weather. A tattoo of a naked woman with an arrow passing through her breasts adorned his hairless chest. Stuck in the waist of his pants was a .45 automatic. “You lost or something?”

“Yeah, said his companion, tall and wide, with a shaven head, pencil-thin eyebrows, and a perpetual leer. He also wore jeans and no shirt. A 12-gauge shotgun, carried loosely in one hand, was his weapon. “Or maybe you’re looking for some action.”

They weren’t called “swarthy,” so these must be white gangbangers.

Varney realizes the assassins plan to rape her before killing her, because this is dark fantasy and rape’s gonna get brought up eventually. There’s some prose about sex and death being linked throughout history, especially hers, then she begins to deal with these guys. Now, you figure she’ll start with one of her vampire powers. Maybe a Presence power, making the gang awed and infatuated with her and drawing them into killing distance. Or maybe she’ll skip messing with their heads and use Celerity to boost her speed and reflexes, swiftly killing them before they can reach for their guns. Or

“Actually,” declared Alicia, taking a tentative step forward, “I was looking for some big, handsome men to satisfy the hunger inside me. I need to be fucked. Repeatedly. Do you two think you can help me?”

...Or that?

“Huh?” said the short man, her reply taking him completely by surprise. His face turned beet red. It was an old trick, but one that still worked. The jerks expected her to cower in fear, beg for mercy–not talk about sex. They weren’t sure how to respond.

Gun her down immediately because this is clearly a trap.

Look, despite how I might come across, I don’t get bothered every time a character does something irrational or wrong in a story. But considering this gang shares their territory with six or seven other gangs and two terrorist groups, and one bad move could get their heads mounted on the park perimeter, there’s no way they should be stupid enough to fall for this. But they do, because the writer wanted to contrive a scene where Alicia Varney “weaponizes her sexuality” I guess.

Varney’s “vulgar declaration” also lures out the three other men, who “didn’t want to miss out on any of the action.” Now all of her enemies are in view, but considering she could sense their presence accurately enough to know exactly how many of them there are, she really didn’t have to.

“You heard me,” said Alicia, raising her voice so that everyone could hear her. “I’m burning up. I want it so bad my body feels like it’s on fire.” She ran her hands up and down her hips, pressing the material of her pants tight against her skin. She moaned passionately. “If I don’t get it quick, I’ll go crazy.”

“Hot damn,” said the big man excitedly, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the buttons of his pants. “The bitch wants to get screwed, and I’m going to nail her right now. The rest of you jokers wait in line, ‘cause I’m first.”

God damn, this is so unnecessary.

The shorter guy struggles with his belt in an attempt to beat his friend to the sex, but thankfully this whole bit comes to an end when Sumohn pounces on him and pulps his head with her jaws. Trusting the panther to take care of the other guy as well, Varney turns to the three other gang members. They try to aim their guns at her, but instead start jerking around “in a ghastly parody of dancing”, unable to shoot her as she approaches.

“What the hell is wrong?” screamed the nearest of the trio, a young black man still in his teens. “I can’t do nothing.”

“A simple matter of paralyzing the part of the brain controlling motor skills,” said Alicia with a smile.

There’re some Thaumatergy powers that could do this, but Varney will turn out to have nothing to do with the Tremere, so it’s unlikely this is any of those. There’s also Paralyzing Glance, an advanced Presence power that can “send someone into a seizure of terror.” Or maybe I’m overthinking it and she’s just generically psychic.

Varney kills the teenager first by tearing out his throat, her technique described more thoroughly than when Makish ripped out a guy’s throat. The second guy, she uses the old “smash his nose cartilage into his brain” move, the second time someone’s been killed that way in this story, and not the last time someone will be in this trilogy. Apparently it’s impossible to do. Even if cartilage was strong enough to penetrate bone, using enough force to do so would likely smash the victim’s skull in anyway. But it sounds cool and Weinberg was probably fond of it. He also seemed to think it would result in a quick death because he described Varney as “merciless but not cruel” before she does it. Anyway, the third guy faints, so Varney snaps his neck while he’s unconscious.

“Very neat, Miss Varney,” said a voice from behind her. “But not really very smart. You let yourself get distracted by the diversions. I’m the real threat.”

Alicia turned, knowing she was too late.

If the assassin who snuck up on you is this chatty and you still don’t turn around by the time he’s finished, you should feel embarrassed.

Sumohn’s too busy tearing apart the guy who was taking his pants off earlier to notice her owner’s in trouble, “a wonderful ally but was too easily tempted” as the narration puts it. This sixth guy, her “true enemy” who somehow evaded her telepathic people sensor, is a well dressed young man already squeezing the trigger on his submachine gun. But instead of Varney dying and ending her role in the story weirdly early, the assassin drops with the handle of a bowie knife sticking out of his back.

“I paralyzed his fingers so he wouldn’t jerk the trigger by accident,” said a blonde man in a white suit and white shirt, walking over to the corpse. Bending down, he jerked the knife out of the body and wiped the blood on the dead man’s clothes.

Hey, Reuben.

He tells Varney that the dead guy was named Leo Taggert, who was headquartered in Coney Island and specialized in “celebrity kills”. The other jerks were local talent he hired. He was also a ghoul who could hide his thoughts, which is why Varney didn’t sense him. Varney asks who Reuban is, thinking he looks familiar yet positive she’d never met him, but Reuben only says he’s “a friend.”

He turned and started walking down the road. “Better call off your pet,” he said in parting. “That man’s quite dead.”

Distracted for an instant, Alicia glanced at Sumohn. When her gaze returned to where the stranger had been, he was gone.

Quickly she mentally scanned the area. Discounting a drug dealer and his teenage customers, there was no one within a hundred yards of her location. It was quite mysterious. Alicia hated mysteries.

Varney asks Sumohn if she saw Reuban, but because she’s a big dumb animal all Sumohn’s thinking about is “blood and death.” And probably mating, because Varney doesn’t seem like the type who spays her pets. She didn’t notice the stranger either during or after the attack, like he appeared and disappeared out of thin air.

“And this SOB,” said Alicia, kicking the dead body of Leo Taggert in frustration, “called me by my name. He was no ordinary assassin hired by my business rivals. He was a ghoul. Which ties him in with the Kindred. And the joker knew enough about me to hide his thoughts. Damn.”

At least her first fight went better than McCann’s. The only thing he has over her in this department is that he didn’t try to distract his would-be assassin with the idea of unexpected sex.

Varney assumes that Jackson’s loyal, so she figures whoever wants her dead has either been watching her closely, or they’re linked to her “friends” at The Devil’s Playground.

First there had been the distressing tiding about Baba Yaga. Now came this assassination attempt, coupled with the appearance of the oddly familiar young man. Alicia wondered grimly what else could go wrong.

It was a question best not asked.

That’s the end of the chapter. Alicia Varney’s “weaponized sexuality” scene in this chapter is the lowest/most awkward this trilogy gets. The good news is, no matter what other dumb things happens, it’s all uphill from here.

#vampire the masquerade #vampire: the masquerade #vtm #world of darkness #blood war

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magibigbang-blog · 5 years

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Fic Summaries Post

We apologize for the delay in this post- between people dropping and unforseen health circumstances in the mod team, things were a bit delayed. Thank you so much for your patience! The artist claim form will go up tomorrow at 1 PM EST, so that people have a chance to read over these and decide which fics they are interested in drawing for.

With no further ado, let me present our stories!

FIC 001 Ships: Sinbad/Judar Characters: Sinbad, Judar Rating: M Warnings: Graphic Violence Additional Warnings: Mentions of slavery and abuse Summary: Somewhere between the painful burn of his clogged lungs and the bloody petals falling from his lips, Judar remembers a distant past and a broken slave with exquisite golden eyes. A slave who now is the mighty king of Sindria. soulmate!AU, Hanahaki!AU

FIC 002 Ships: Sinbad/Judal Characters: Judal, Sinbad Rating: M Warnings: no major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Nothing in particular, I’ll keep you guys updated as I continue to work. The rating might be explicit depending on... how explicit I decide to go with nsfw :’). Summary: In a world with no use for kings nor magi, Judal has never felt more alone. It’s only the rumors of a certain king’s return to the world that reignite his sense of purpose; however, it is the fate he so desperately abhors that brings Sinbad back into Judal’s life, and he finally begins to understand the love of fate.

FIC 003 Ships: Juhaku, background Alimor & Hakuei/Paimon Characters: Hakuryuu and Judal Rating: T Warnings: No Major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: none Summary: Modern Figure Skating AU. Ren Hakuryuu is an up and coming prospect in the figure skating world. He’s been trained all his life by his coach and aunt, former champion Arba, to surpass her and gain prestige for himself in their chosen sport. However, his first attempt to move onto the world stage is soured when he meets Judal, an equally skilled skater who is seeking the exact same thing and being coached by Solomon to achieve it. Much like their trainers, each of them is instantly put off by the other and are determined to leave everyone else in the dust in pursuit of the gold medal. However, as they train for competition, they find their fierce rivalry developing into something much deeper.

FIC 004 Ships: Judal/Hakuryuu Characters: Judal, Hakuryuu Rating: T Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Does it count as major character death if one of the characters is dead before the story starts? Also mentions of magic bullshit violence/death/ghosts Summary: Hakuryuu stumbles upon a dead amusement park, now inhabited by the ghosts of past patrons, magical creatures, and Judal, a former employee who PROBABLY should have died from all the bullshit he did in the park after hours. Hakuryuu is clued into the world of magic and has run from his mother's magical cult, with plans to gather power and fight back.

FIC 005 Ships: Sinbad/Ja'far Characters: Ja’far, Sinbad, and a small orphan girl... Rating: Not Currently Sure Warnings: Graphic Violence Additional Warnings: I’m not entirely sure what I want to do yet in terms of darker content, but there could potentially be disturbing themes or imagery, as well as physical harm to either an animal or a child... Summary: In the wake of loss, Ja’far finds himself incapable of moving on in his life. Drakon, concerned by his lack of self care, relieves him of his work and insists he travel. Upon heading to the only land untouched by his former fiancé’s legacy, however, Jafar learns he can’t truly outrun his despair. Mistania, instead of a new start, brings him a stranger with the exact face and voice of a man he once thought dead. Now, set into the turmoil following a revolution, he’s on the run with an amnesiac, a dog, and refugee princess. What has his life become... Longer summary/planning document can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Az6dKCZOM3hQkAtzvWo-VsK9MkjiSvqfVkOIE7_N1qE

FIC 006 Ships: Kouen/Judal, Sinbad/Ja'far Characters: Kouen, Judal, Gyokuen, Kougyoku, Kouha, Koumei, Hakuryuu, Hakuei, Sinbad, Ja'far Rating: T Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply Additional Warnings: None Summary: When the only way to access his inheritance is to get married, Kouen has to turn to Judal, his right-hand man. Kouen will do anything to protect his family, but falling in love with his new husband makes it just a bit more complicated.

FIC 007 Ships: Gyokuen/Hakutoku Characters: Gyokuen, Arba, Hakutoku Rating: M Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply Additional Warnings: Some sexual content, unsure of how explicit it will be Summary: Growing up as an orphan, Gyokuen wanted nothing more than to have a family of her own. But being a person who regularly starts fights, it was unlikely for her to get married. That is, until a traveller named 'Toku' expressed interest after she beat him in a fight. But that was just the beginning of her problems as soon, a curse her family had been harboring comes to haunt her, the very same curse why she was abandoned in the first place. And that curse has a name; 'Arba.' As time went on, 'she' claimed more and more of her family's lives and Gyokuen cannot do anything but watch as she killed them with her own hands.

FIC 008 Ships: SoloShe, AlaKou Characters: Aladdin, Kougyoku, Solomon, Sheba Rating: G Warnings: No Major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: none Summary: Post-Final Arc! It shouldn't have been possible, but in front of Aladdin stood King Solomon and Queen Sheba. Something gone wrong with the Rukh, but Aladdin's just happy he gets to meet his parents.

FIC 009 Ships: Gen, with some Badr/Esra Characters: Sinbad, Kil, Yamuraiha, Maader Um Mariadel, Falan, Arba, Ja'far, Badr, Esra, Fatima, Masrur, Mystras Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings apply Additional Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse, guns, starvation, eating disorder mention Summary: Thousands of years after the events of Magi, Sinbad was reborn and lives his life as a High-school student in New Remano. When he meets a mysterious girl with a link to a past that he cannot remember and discovers a plot against him he must fight to stop history from repeating.

FIC 010 Ships: no ships expected, potential for otome game style harem teases Characters: Kassim, Kouen, Koumei, Kouha, Hakuryuu Rating: T Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort Summary: Kassim lives and stays in Balbadd as it's reformed by the Kou Empire, which has moved in as canon. He approaches the princes to change Balbadd back and ends up working with them (begrudgingly) to aid Balbadd's integration. This allows him to interact with them, his own people, and help work out the hidden scars of the royal family. Now that he's finally talked to his own family, he doesn't want to see the one in charge of his home destroy themselves and everything around them.

FIC 011 Ships: Gen, maybe some ship tease for Ja'far/Masrur, Ja'far/Drakon, and obviously, Ja'far/Judar. I suppose there could also be hints of Ja'far/Sinbad, due to some reminiscing about the past--however, I want the artist to know that I am trying to write Ja'far as a person who is learning to become more independent and self-motivated, rather than motivating himself with Sinbad's goals and pining constantly for Sinbad's return. Characters: Ja'far, Judar, and supporting/somewhat major roles from every ex-general of Sindria. Any other characters would have brief appearances. Rating: T Warnings: Graphic Violence (canon-typical) Additional Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary: The world has changed and there's work to be done. With the shifted landscape, changes in leadership, and the departure of a certain king, there's a never-ending stream of challenges to be overcome. Oh, and the brat magi of Kou has up and vanished without a word of warning. Well, Ja'far is sure they can do without. Like with all cockroaches, he's a pest that always turns up eventually. And besides--he's far more concerned about the black cat he stumbled upon in the gardens, found wounded and mewling in hunger. Sure, its personality is a bit aggressive, and it claws him every time he tries to pet it, but that's only natural for such a frail, scared little animal, likely separated and lost from its mother. And he's always had a soft spot for cats, as Drakon would say… The first chapter will be from Ja'far's perspective and the rest is Judar begrudgingly witnessing the events through his cat body and getting used to his short bout as a cat. Basically, this fic will explore the changed/re-emerging relationships between Ja'far and the other ex-generals after the end of the final arc, and will attempt to explain how Judar and Ja'far--two polar opposites that fell in hate at first sight some years ago--reach a mutual understanding and tolerance of one another in this new world. I definitely do see this as a multi-chapter fic that will stretch beyond 10k words and the required scope of Big Bang!

FIC 012 Ships: Gen Characters: Hakuryuu Rating: Not currently sure Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Canon Death, and Canon Violence Summary: Hakuryuu wondered what his place was with his family before his family massacre as he was the youngest son. Even now with his new siblings, he still struggles to find a place among them. With meeting Alibaba and the other he felt as if he had finally gain a place where he can be himself but again he stuggled to find himself accepting the hand he was dealt and goes off with Judar.

FIC 013 Ships: Gen, potential background sphintitus Characters: aladdin, ja'far, scheherazade, yunan, ugo (as a cat), yamuraiha Rating: T Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: this deals w the aftermath of living under the influence of a cult, so certain gaslighting/brainwashing/false worship fall under it. specific ptsd, possibly, and panic attacks, with adjusting to normal society. Summary: modern au. deals with aladdin, after the cult al thamen is disbanded, and the only life he's ever known getting thrown on its head.

#magi big bang #magibb2019 #mod post #fic summaries

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ucflibrary · 5 years

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American history is a broad and varied topic. It ranges from the native inhabitants who formed communities here thousands of years ago to the creation of a new nation of states to the dreamers who immigrate to these shores today. It is an enormous amount of information to cover, but it is important that we all learn about our past. As Edmund Burke said in Reflections on the Revolution in France, “Those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it.”

The founders of the United States, beyond their faults and foibles, began this nation with a grand and noble sentiment of “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity….”

“We the people” is us. Join us this month as we explore our past to help ensure “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” applies to us all.

Click on the Read More link to see the full list, descriptions, and catalog links for the featured titles on American History suggested by UCF Library employees. These 24 books plus many more are also on display on the 2nd (main) floor of the John C. Hitt Library next to the bank of two elevators.

11/22/63 by Stephen King On November 22, 1953, three shots rang out in Dallas, President Kennedy died, and the world changed. What if you could change it back? In this brilliantly conceived tour de force, Stephen King—who has absorbed the social, political, and popular culture of his generation more imaginatively and thoroughly than any other writer—takes readers on an incredible journey into the past and the possibility of altering it. Suggested by Kathleen Silva, Libraries Student Ambassador

A History of the American People by Paul Johnson This challenging narrative and interpretation of American history by the author of many distinguished historical works is sometimes controversial and always provocative. Johnson’s views of individuals, events, themes, and issues are original, critical, and admiring, for he is, above all, a strong believer in the history and the destiny of the American people. Suggested by Allison Hilton, Libraries Student Ambassador

A Map to the Next World: poetry and tales by Joy Harjo The poet author of The Woman Who Fell from the Sky, and new poet laureate of the U.S., draws on her own Native American heritage in a collection of lyrical poetry that explores the cruelties and tragedies of history and the redeeming miracles of human kindness. Suggested by Jada Reyes, Libraries Student Ambassador

Alex and Eliza by Melissa De la Cruz In the pages of Alex and Eliza, #1 New York Times bestselling author Melissa de la Cruz brings to life the romance of young Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler. Suggested by Kathleen Silva, Libraries Student Ambassador

American Canopy: trees, forests, and the making of a nation by Eric Rutkow (UCF Faculty Author) As Eric Rutkow’s brilliant, epic account shows, trees were essential to the early years of the republic and indivisible from the country’s rise as both an empire and a civilization. Among American Canopy’s many fascinating stories: the Liberty Trees, where colonists gathered to plot rebellion against the British; Henry David Thoreau’s famous retreat into the woods; the creation of New York City’s Central Park; the great fire of 1871 that killed a thousand people in the lumber town of Peshtigo, Wisconsin; the fevered attempts to save the American chestnut and the American elm from extinction; and the controversy over spotted owls and the old-growth forests they inhabited. Rutkow also explains how trees were of deep interest to such figures as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Teddy Roosevelt, and FDR, who oversaw the planting of more than three billion trees nationally in his time as president. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

Americans Remember Their Civil War by Barbara A. Gannon (UCF Faculty Author) This book provides readers with an overview of how Americans have commemorated and remembered the Civil War. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

Beneath a Ruthless Sun: a true story of violence, race, and justice lost and found by Gilbert King Beneath a Ruthless Sun tells a powerful, page-turning story rooted in the fears that rippled through the South as integration began to take hold, sparking a surge of virulent racism that savaged the vulnerable, debased the powerful, and roils our own times still. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

Elizabeth Warren: her fight, her work, her life by Antonia Felix In this breakthrough biography, bestselling author Antonia Felix carries readers from Warren's hardscrabble roots in Norman, Oklahoma, to her career as one of the nation's most distinguished legal scholars and experts on the economics of working Americans. Felix reveals how Warren brought her expertise to Washington to become an icon of progressive politics in a deeply divided nation, and weaves together never-before-told stories from those who have journeyed with Warren from Oklahoma to the halls of power. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Hamilton: the revolution: being the complete libretto of the Broadway musical, with a true account of its creation, and concise remarks on hip-hop, the power of stories, and the new America by Lin-Manuel Miranda and Jeremy McCarter This book gives readers an unprecedented view of both revolutions, from the only two writers able to provide it. Miranda, along with Jeremy McCarter, a cultural critic and theater artist who was involved in the project from its earliest stages and traces its development from an improbable performance at the White House to its landmark opening night on Broadway six years later. In addition, Miranda has written more than 200 funny, revealing footnotes for his award-winning libretto, the full text of which is published here. Suggested by Katie Burroughs, Administration

Historians on Hamilton: how a blockbuster musical is restaging America's past edited by Renee C. Romano and Claire Bond Potter Historians on Hamilton brings together a collection of top scholars to explain the Hamilton phenomenon and explore what it might mean for our understanding of America’s history. The contributors examine what the musical got right, what it got wrong, and why it matters. Does Hamilton’s hip-hop take on the Founding Fathers misrepresent our nation’s past, or does it offer a bold positive vision for our nation’s future? Can a musical so unabashedly contemporary and deliberately anachronistic still communicate historical truths about American culture and politics? And is Hamilton as revolutionary as its creators and many commentators claim? Suggested by Katie Burroughs, Administration

John Marshall: the man who made the Supreme Court by Richard Brookhiser In 1801, a genial and brilliant Revolutionary War veteran and politician became the fourth chief justice of the United States. He would hold the post for 34 years (still a record), expounding the Constitution he loved. Before he joined the Supreme Court, it was the weakling of the federal government, lacking in dignity and clout. After he died, it could never be ignored again. Through three decades of dramatic cases involving businessmen, scoundrels, Native Americans, and slaves, Marshall defended the federal government against unruly states, established the Supreme Court's right to rebuke Congress or the president, and unleashed the power of American commerce. For better and for worse, he made the Supreme Court a pillar of American life. Suggested by Larry Cooperman, Research & Information Services

Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen Americans have lost touch with their history, and in Lies My Teacher Told Me Professor James Loewen shows why. After surveying eighteen leading high school American history texts, he has concluded that not one does a decent job of making history interesting or memorable. Marred by an embarrassing combination of blind patriotism, mindless optimism, sheer misinformation, and outright lies, these books omit almost all the ambiguity, passion, conflict, and drama from our past. Suggested by Emily Parente, Libraries Student Ambassador

My Own Words by Ruth Bader Ginsburg with Mary Hartnett and Wendy W. Williams In this collection Justice Ginsburg discusses gender equality, the workings of the Supreme Court, being Jewish, law and lawyers in opera, and the value of looking beyond US shores when interpreting the US Constitution. Throughout her life Justice Ginsburg has been (and continues to be) a prolific writer and public speaker. This book’s sampling is selected by Justice Ginsburg and her authorized biographers Mary Hartnett and Wendy W. Williams, who introduce each chapter and provide biographical context and quotes gleaned from hundreds of interviews they have conducted. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

News for all the people: the epic story of race and the American media by Juan Gonzlez and Joseph Torres From colonial newspapers to the Internet age, America’s racial divisions have played a central role in the creation of the country’s media system, just as the media has contributed to—and every so often, combated—racial oppression. This acclaimed book reveals how racial segregation distorted the information Americans have received, even as it depicts the struggle of Black, Latino, Asian, and Native American journalists who fought to create a vibrant yet little-known alternative, democratic press. Suggested by Jada Reyes, Libraries Student Ambassador

Shade: a tale of two presidents by Pete Souza Shade is a portrait in Presidential contrasts, telling the tale of the Obama and Trump administrations through a series of visual juxtapositions. Here, more than one hundred of Souza's unforgettable images of President Obama deliver new power and meaning when framed by the tweets, news headlines, and quotes that defined the first 500 days of the Trump White House. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Team of Rivals: the political genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin Acclaimed historian Doris Kearns Goodwin illuminates Lincoln's political genius in this highly original work, as the one-term congressman and prairie lawyer rises from obscurity to prevail over three gifted rivals of national reputation to become president. Suggested by Joan Reynolds, Interlibrary Loan & Document Delivery Services

The Book that Changed America: how Darwin's theory of evolution ignited a nation by Randall Fuller Creating a rich tableau of nineteenth-century American intellectual culture, as well as providing a fascinating biography of perhaps the single most important idea of that time, The Book That Changed America is also an account of issues and concerns still with us today, including racism and the enduring conflict between science and religion. Suggested by Christina Wray, Teaching & Engagement

The Breakthrough: Politics and Race in the Age of Obama by Gwen Ifill Veteran journalist Gwen Ifill surveys the American political landscape, shedding new light on the impact of Barack Obama’s stunning presidential victory and introducing the emerging young African American politicians forging a bold new path to political power. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

The Devil in the White City: murder, magic, and madness at the fair that changed America by Erik Larson Erik Larson—author of #1 bestseller In the Garden of Beasts—intertwines the true tale of the 1893 World's Fair and the cunning serial killer who used the fair to lure his victims to their death. Combining meticulous research with nail-biting storytelling, Erik Larson has crafted a narrative with all the wonder of newly discovered history and the thrills of the best fiction. Suggested by Rachel Edford, Teaching & Engagement

The Dictionary Wars: the American fight over the English language by Peter Martin Peter Martin recounts the patriotic fervor in the early American republic to produce a definitive national dictionary that would rival Samuel Johnson’s 1755 Dictionary of the English Language. But what began as a cultural war of independence from Britain devolved into a battle among lexicographers, authors, scholars, and publishers, all vying for dictionary supremacy and shattering forever the dream of a unified American language. Suggested by Christina Wray, Teaching & Engagement

The Field of Blood: violence in Congress and the road to civil war by Joanne B. Freeman Joanne B. Freeman recovers the long-lost story of physical violence on the floor of the U.S. Congress. Drawing on an extraordinary range of sources, she shows that the Capitol was rife with conflict in the decades before the Civil War. Legislative sessions were often punctuated by mortal threats, canings, flipped desks, and all-out slugfests. When debate broke down, congressmen drew pistols and waved Bowie knives. One representative even killed another in a duel. Many were beaten and bullied in an attempt to intimidate them into compliance, particularly on the issue of slavery. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Subject Librarian

The Law by Frederic Bastiat The Law was originally published as a pamphlet in 1850 by Frederic Bastiat (1801-1850). Bastiat wrote most of his work in the few years before and after the French Revolution of 1848. The Law is considered a classic and his ideas are still relevant today. The essay was published in French in 1850. Suggested by Allison Hilton, Libraries Student Ambassador

The Truths We Hold: an American journey by Kamala Harris By reckoning with the big challenges we face together, drawing on the hard-won wisdom and insight from her own career and the work of those who have most inspired her, Kamala Harris offers a master class in problem solving, in crisis management, and leadership in challenging times. Through the arc of her own life, on into the great work of our day, she communicates a vision of shared struggle, shared purpose, and shared values. In a book rich in many home truths, not least is that a relatively small number of people work very hard to convince a great many of us that we have less in common than we actually do, but it falls to us to look past them and get on with the good work of living our common truth. When we do, our shared effort will continue to sustain us and this great nation, now and in the years to come. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens Perfect for fans of Barbara Kingsolver and Karen Russell, Where the Crawdads Sing is at once an exquisite ode to the natural world, a heartbreaking coming-of-age story, and a surprising tale of possible murder. Owens reminds us that we are forever shaped by the children we once were, and that we are all subject to the beautiful and violent secrets that nature keeps. Suggested by Emily Parente, Libraries Student Ambassador

#ucf library #ucflibrary #featured bookshelf #booklr #american history #reading list

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blackkudos · 6 years

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Matt Robinson

Matthew Thomas (Matt) Robinson Jr. (January 1, 1937 – August 5, 2002) was an American actor, writer and television producer. Robinson was the first actor to portray the character of Gordon Robinson on the long–running PBS children's TV program Sesame Street. When Sesame Street began in 1969, not only did Robinson play Gordon, but he also provided the voice of the puppet Roosevelt Franklin and also was one of the show's producers. He left the show in 1971. In later years, when producers needed a last name for the Gordon character, then played by Hal Miller and then Roscoe Orman, they used Matt's last name.

He wrote and produced the films Save the Children and Amazing Grace in the early 1970s, and authored scripts for Sanford and Son and Eight Is Enough. In 1983, he joined the staff of the NBC's The Cosby Show as a producer and staff writer. By that time, he was beginning to show symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, but stayed with the show for seven seasons despite the difficulty. He ultimately succumbed to the disease on August 5, 2002 in Los Angeles at the age of 65.

He is survived by his daughter, actress Holly Robinson Peete (21 Jump Street, Hangin' with Mr. Cooper, For Your Love, The Talk.) son Matt Robinson III, his wife, Dolores Robinson, and five grandchildren.

Family, early life

Born Matthew Thomas Robinson Jr., in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Matthew Robinson Sr. and Marie Robinson on January 1, 1937. His father worked as a postal worker and one of the first African American columnists for The Philadelphia Independent newspaper, while his mother worked as an elementary school teacher.

Robinson attended West Philadelphia High School in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania before going on to Pennsylvania State University in University Park, Pennsylvania and graduating in 1958 with a degree from the College of the Liberal Arts and Sciences. While at Penn State, Robinson was elected president of the Penn State Omega Psi Phi fraternity, one of the first African American fraternities founded at a prominently African American college or university--Howard University in Washington, D.C.

Career

Robinson began his media career in 1963 where wrote and soon after became a producer and on-air talent during a job at local television station WCAU-TV in his home town of Philadelphia. Here, Robinson produced and hosted Opportunity in Philadelphia, a weekly televised employment service oriented towards African Americans. By televising job opportunities, Opportunity in Philadelphia broke the "apprehension" involved when the poor African American sought out the employment office. He established his talent at WCAU-TV, ultimately leading to future successes as a producer and actor. Before that, in 1962, Robinson wrote a slave revolt drama titled Rained All Night.

Sesame Street

Robinson's television breakthrough came in 1969 when he joined the Children's Television Workshop (CTW) to assist in the development of a new children's program for National Educational Television, Sesame Street—his initial role with CTW was to produce and oversee filmed segments focusing on the diversity of different characters on the show. Robinson was eventually chosen to play the fictional character of Gordon in the series, after the performance of the character in test episodes by another actor, Garrett Saunders, did not work out as the producers hoped. Gordon was the first character with spoken lines in the show, as a result of difficulty in finding someone to fill the figure. This was against his original intentions with joining the show as he preferred a behind-the-scenes role, and was initially reluctant to take the part. Dolores Robinson commented on his backseat role on the set with, "He was by nature shy, and he knew that they were having a difficult time casting Gordon. And the people overseeing the taping up in the booth, peering at the monitors, kept saying, 'Matt knows what to do. He should be the Gordon.'” He ultimately resigned from the role in 1972.

Despite resigning from the character Gordon, and the Sesame Street group officially in 1972, Robinson continued to work with the show, scripting and voicing Roosevelt Franklin sketches until 1975. Since 1972, two other actors, Hal Miller (1972–1974) and Roscoe Orman (1974–2016) have played the role of Gordon. Later, when Gordon's surname was needed, Robinson's was used in tribute.

Robinson wrote the first Sesame Street themed storybook in 1972 and was titled Gordon of Sesame Street's Storybook. It was made up of four of his originally written children stories, "No More Milk", "Fisher-Man", "Fire-Man", and "A Lot of Hot Water". The cover has a Gordon Robinson caricature reading to different children.

Roosevelt Franklin

While with CTW, Robinson also played the voice of a reddish-magenta puppet named Roosevelt Franklin. Robinson worked closely with Jim Henson to accurately design the first black influenced Muppet. Some other Muppets designed between Henson and Robinson were Baby Ray Francis, Mobley Mosey, and a Hispanic Muppet—A.B. Cito. Roosevelt Franklin promoted ideals such as family, pride, respect, and geography while also showing a passion for rhyming and blues music. Both creating and performing Franklin's voice for three seasons, Robinson played his puppet to one of the main characters on the show, in addition, Franklin continued to make appearances until 1975.

The puppet was pulled from the show because negative reception of the character from the African American community continued to grow. This was due to his frequent unruly behavior at the fictional elementary school, which was deemed a bad example for the audience. Additional arguments for his departure can be found in his over excessive black image or lack thereof. Dolores Robinson comments on this issue by stating that Roosevelt Franklin became a televised vehicle for her then husband's anger with racism and pride in the African American race. While Roosevelt Franklin represented a figure to associate with in the African American community, it would be important to teach the highest standard of the English language—some saw this is being not black enough for children to relate too though.

Robinson recorded and released the first Sesame Street album--The Year of Roosevelt Franklin (Gordon's Friend from Sesame Street) that was focused on a single character--Roosevelt Franklin. Released in 1971, and then re-released in 1974 under the name My Name is Roosevelt Franklin, the album focused on many appropriate behaviors for children growing up. Aside from the basic topics such as numbers and letters, also included in the album were traffic safety, sharing, and getting along with others. All tracks were co-written with the help of Joe Raposo. The album was again released on compact-disc in 2010 as a part of a set titled Old School: Volume 2, also including Grover Sings the Blues and The Count Counts.

Post-Sesame Street

Following his time with CTW, Robinson continued to produce and write for movies, television and the stage. Robinson wrote and produced, under the direction of Stan Lathan, Save The Children (1973), a musical performance that was a spinoff of Black Exposition (conducted by People to Save Humanity). Robinson would continue his work as a producer and writer in the 1974 film Amazing Grace, about a group of neighbors seeking to overthrow the a few shady, money hungry politicians in town.

Other post-Sesame Street work included writing episodes for Sanford and Son, The Waltons and Eight Is Enough, and writing and producing for Captain Kangaroo, a children's television series on CBS which aired from 1955 to 1984.

The Cosby Show (1983–1990)

In 1983, Robinson joined the crew of NBC's The Cosby Show as a producer and writer. The family sitcom, which aired from 1984 for eight seasons until 1992, revolved around the life of the Huxtable family – an affluent African-American family in Brooklyn, New York. He co-produced and wrote several episodes during his seven-year tenure with the Cosby Show, further proliferating his success on television. During this time, Robinson transitioned between writer, executive story consultant, executive story editor, and soundtrack writer for over 50 episodes of The Cosby Show. His work ultimately culminated in him becoming co-producer of the show. He acted in his only episode, "Cliff's Nightmare", as the French Scientist.

The Confessions of Stepin Fetchit (1993)

Written by Robinson and directed by Bill Lathan, The Confessions of Stepin Fetchit is a one-man play which focuses on Lincoln Perry, who was once popular because of the black comic character in 1930's films but soon became under fire by civil rights advocates. This play was meant as a call to history as well as a discussion forum for reflection on Perry's life story as one of America's first African-American movie stars.

Awards and honors

Daytime Emmy Awards – 1983, nominated (along with Bob Brush, Harry Crossfield, Martin Donoff, and Howard Friedlander) for Outstanding Individual Achievement in Children's Programming-Writing for Captain Kangaroo

Distinguished Alumnus Award from Penn State University (1994)

42nd NAACP Image Awards

Personal life

Matt and his wife Dolores had two children together – son, Matthew Thomas Robinson III, and daughter, Holly Elizabeth Robinson (born September 18, 1964). At first, Robinson was skeptical about his children going into film and television despite his daughter's prominent role in television today, where she is well known throughout. Robinson Jr.'s marriage to Dolores ended in divorce.

Death

Robinson was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 1982 at the age of 45, but continued to battle the disease for 20 years. In 1997, during her father's struggle with the disease, daughter Holly Robinson Peete and her husband, NFL quarterback Rodney Peete, started the HollyRod Foundation.

In honor of and inspired by her father's fight with Parkinson's disease, the HollyRod Foundation was created to reach out to all those affected by Parkinson's disease or autism and provide medical, physical, and emotional support. Located within the Center for Parkinson's Research and Movement Disorders at the Keck School of Medicine at the University of Southern California, the HollyRod Foundation is able to provide low to no-cost treatment as well as various services to the under-served in greater Los Angeles.

Robinson died in his sleep at his Los Angeles home on Monday, August 5, 2002 at the age of 65. A memorial service was held on the morning of Friday, August 9, 2002 at the Writers Guild of America Theater in Beverly Hills, California. He is survived by daughter and actress Holly Robinson Peete, son and production assistant Matthew Robinson III, spouse Dolores Robinson, and five grandchildren.

Wikipedia

#Matt Robinson

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injusticetwofanportfolios · 6 years

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Injustice 2 The Coon’s portfolio part 1: Battle Intros

The Coon (aka Eric Cartman)

“Prepared to get Cooned!”

While the most sensible people of South Park would see entering the Injustice Universe as certain death, 4th grader Eric Cartman saw immense opportunity. Driven by his own twisted (and selfish) ideas of how to make both worlds better, and emboldened by the possibly of taking Brainiac’s technology for himself, Cartman takes up his alter-ego of The Coon once again to tackle what may be his greatest challenge yet.

1st and 3rd Line Animation: The Coon simply falls downward and makes a three-point landing onto the stage as he says the first line. He says the third line while getting into fighting stance.

2nd Line Animation: The Coon enters the stage riding his Coon-Cycle (a Coon-themed tricycle for those unaware). The Coon stops his Coon Cycle by making a sharp turn while hitting the brakes. He says the second line while climbing out of the Coon-Cycle.

Vs. Aquaman

The Coon: Wow! It’s King Semen!

Aquaman: Do not mock me with formality!

The Coon: Ey! I workshopped a dozen of those!

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Aquaman: Atlantis is off-limits!

The Coon: There’s nowhere The Coon can’t go!

Aquaman: You’ve been warned!

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Vs. Batman

Batman: Come quietly, you won’t get hurt.

The Coon: I’ve outwitted Mysterion before, I can outwit you, Bat-Bitch!

Batman: Let me enlighten you.

--------

The Coon: You’ll either be dead or crapping your pants when I’m done.

Batman: Is that supposed to scare me?

The Coon: Fine, I can technically make you do both.

Vs. Atrocitus

Atrocitus: You’ve enraged Earth’s people.

The Coon: Wow, already? And I just got here.

Atrocitus: Your victims must be avenged!

---------

Atrocitus: Your rage and selfishness has plagued two worlds, Cartman!

The Coon: Oooooh! That mean you got a Red Ring for me?

Atrocitus: You’re too treacherous for a Red Ring!

--------

The Coon: So what the hell do you want?

Atrocitus: You have escaped punishment too long!

The Coon: I can promise it’ll be much longer.

Vs. Bane

Bane: I hear this ‘New Kid’ became formidable with your training.

The Coon: (suspicious) awfully specific to bring that shit up, why?

Bane: If you lose, I’ll see if they fare better.

---------

The Coon: Do you ride a tiny bicicleta, Bane?

The Bane: Do not butcher my language!

The Coon: “Ey! I workshopped a dozen of those!” or “Ha! you’ll wish that was all I was doing.”

Vs. Black Adam

Black Adam: Relinquish your apprentice to me, Eric Cartman!

The Coon: Huh, suddenly I’m glad I didn’t bring Butthole with me.

Black Adam: Dovahkiin will learn better wisdom from my lead.

----------

The Coon: Seems God missed a firstborn during his plagues.

Black Adam: I’m the only god that should worry you, boy!

The Coon: Ha! The same ‘god’ that lost to Green Arrow?

-------

Black Adam: You expect to best a god?

The Coon: The Coon will tear through you like garbage.

Black Adam: Amon’s strength will crush your pride.

------

Vs. Black Canary

The Coon: I saw you on CW once.

Black Canary: Want me to sing for you?

The Coon: (scoffs) Good one, god knows I sing better than you.

----------

Black Canary: I hear the New Kid doesn’t trust you anymore.

The Coon: (Sighs) way to open some old wounds, (mutters) stupid bitch.

Black Canary: Shame a good taste in students is all you got.

Vs. Blue Beetle

The Coon: Nice armor, think I’ll take it!

Blue Beetle: Can’t, it’s fused to my spine.

The Coon: I’m sure I’ll figure something out.

-----

Blue Beetle: We’ve been keeping a cell warm for you.

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

Blue Beetle: You got denial bad, bro!

Vs. Brainiac

The Coon: Hi there, I’m the Coon and I’m here to take your ship.

Brainiac: An unlikely outcome of this encounter.

The Coon: You living is gonna be even less likely.

---------

Brainiac: Why come to this universe?

The Coon: You got a treasure trove of tech, and I’m here to take it.

Brainiac: You overestimate your chances.

-----

Brainiac: The nature of your universe is most curious.

The Coon: (suspicious) awfully specific to bring that shit up, why?

Brainiac: Know that South Park will be collected after your death.

-----

Vs. Captain Cold

The Coon: Ya know, I’ve survived being frozen before.

Captain Cold: Then I’ll just punch you in the face.

The Coon: Assuming I don’t slash open your belly.

-----

Captain Cold: The Rogues never liked you.

The Coon: Wow, already? And I just got here.

Captain Cold: Ever turned on a TV here, kid?

Vs. Mr. Freeze

Mr. Freeze: You are unafraid of my gun.

The Coon: I always found your puns scarier than freezing to death.

Mr. Freeze: Best not to taunt me, child.

--------

Mr. Freeze: Could Dr. Mephesto assist with my research?

The Coon: (scoffs) He’d be more interested in giving Nora more asses.

Mr. Freeze: Then I will make do freezing him and seizing his assets.

-----

The Coon: Yeesh! Even South Park’s homeless don’t get that bad case of frostbite.

Mr. Freeze: You dare mock my suffering?!

The Coon: Ha! You’ll wish that was all I was doing.

Vs. Catwoman

The Coon: You do worse at flip-flopping than Butthole!

Catwoman: I like to keep my options open.

The Coon: “At least Butthole doesn’t make excuses.” Or “Just means you’ll run out of nine lives quicker.”

--------

The Coon: Ya know, normally I like cats

Catwoman: Should I be creeped out, or flattered?

The Coon: Neither, won’t stop me from killing you.

------

Catwoman: I hear you like cats.

The Coon: Well, we can both agree cats are better than people.

Catwoman: Though raccoons are a cut below them both.

Vs. Cheetah

Cheetah: You honestly think your claws match mine, boy?

The Coon: I got other ways to skin you, just in case.

Cheetah: I need only my claws.

--------

The Coon: Oh look, my new bath robe!

Cheetah: You won’t joke once I have your tongue.

The Coon: And you won’t be so cocky once I pull your tail off!

------

The Coon: You know, normally I like cats.

Cheetah: I can safely say you won’t like this one.

The Coon: Yeeeaahh, you may be right.

------

Cheetah: Garrison never taught you raccoons aren’t the best hunters?

The Coon: I’m guessing you don’t know the people I’ve hunted?

Cheetah: The Goddess knows, and she’s unimpressed.

Vs. Vixen

The Coon: So it’s the Coon versus…. what exactly?

Vixen: You’re fighting the entire animal kingdom.

The Coon: Then it’s time to put Coon on top of the food chain!

------

Vixen: I never understood what makes you tick.

The Coon: No father figure? Messed up social life? My own protégé left me? I can go on…

Vixen: None of that justifies the things you’ve done, Eric!

Vs. Cyborg

The Coon: So you’re mad at your dad for rebuilding ya?

Cyborg: It's 'cause of him I'm like this!

The Coon: you’re fuckin’ nuts! I’d kill for toys like yours!

------

Cyborg: I want nothing to do with you.

The Coon: (mockingly) Why? Jealous I still have my dick?

Cyborg: THAT was disrespectful, kid!

Vs. Grid

The Coon: Shouldn’t you be somewhere inside Vic?

Grid: I will no longer be Victor Stone’s slave.

The Coon: ‘Kay then, maybe you’ll be mine instead.

------

Grid: Analysis suggests you will not survive.

The Coon: The Coon will tear through you like garbage.

Grid: My calculations are never wrong

Vs. Deadshot

The Coon: So someone put a price on The Coon?

Deadshot: I’ll admit, my jaw dropped at seeing those digits.

The Coon: (laughs amusingly) Now I know this world’s scared of me….

-----

Deadshot: Those comics ever tell you how many raccoons I’ve bagged?

The Coon: (slightly nervous) Something tells me I made a mistake…

Deadshot: One king-size coonskin cap coming right up….

Vs. Doctor Fate

The Coon: Sweet helmet, it’s mine now.

Doctor Fate: You would corrupt its power.

The Coon: With your Lords supporting Brainiac? How could I do worse?

------

Doctor Fate: You bring death and misery!

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

Doctor Fate: Begone from this Earth!

-------

Doctor Fate: The Lords know your fate.

The Coon: Like what? Your helmet on my head?

Doctor Fate: Your head will be all you’ll have left.

Vs. Firestorm

The Coon: I KNEW I forgot something when I came here.

Firestorm: The weeping angel on your shoulder?

The Coon: Nope, just marshmellows.

------

Firestorm: I’m almost tempted to turn you into paper.

The Coon: Wait, what?

Firestorm: you’ve always looked better flat.

Vs. The Flash (Barry Allen)

The Coon: Would you believe I taught the New Kid how to be as fast as you?

The Flash: Yeah… I don’t think so.

The Coon: You wouldn’t be the first dumbass I surprised.

-------

The Flash: I came back to set things right.

The Coon: The Coon’s got this covered.

The Flash: “I said ‘set things right’ not make things worse” or “You make it so easy to hit you!”

Vs. Jay Garrick

Jay Garrick: The blind pursuit of power leads only to ruin.

The Coon: I wouldn’t call it a ‘blind persuit’.

Jay Garrick: If you’d let me, I could help you….

------

The Coon: Nice helmet, it’s mine now.

Jay Garrick: I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, Eric.

The Coon: Nah, I’m getting a new popcorn bowl.

Vs. Reverse-Flash

Reverse-Flash: If it isn't the freak of the week?

The Coon: (scoffs) Like you’re any better than me.

Reverse-Flash: (peeved over being mocked) I’ll enjoy bringing your corpse to your mom.

------

The Coon: (condescendingly) You’re looking a little pale, Thawne.

Reverse-Flash: You’re no legend, I should know….

The Coon: Maybe I’ll be one once I fillet you!

Vs. Gorilla Grodd

Gorilla Grodd: There's a place for you in the Society.

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

Gorilla Grodd: Your fellow humans would disagree.

------

The Coon: Shouldn’t you be in a zoo?

Gorilla Grodd: Shouldn’t you be sitting on a couch fattening yourself?

The Coon: (grins) Well, suddenly I’m thinking your pelt would look sweet on my couch.

Vs. Green Arrow

The Coon: I saw you on the CW once.

Green Arrow: Excuse me?

The Coon: Just know I’ll say hi to Felicity for you….after I cut you!

------

Green Arrow: You sure this is your smartest play?

The Coon: The Coon’s got this covered.

Green Arrow: It’s okay, stupidity should be painful.

Vs. Green Lantern (Hal Jordan)

The Coon: So what the hell do you want?

Hal Jordon: I’m bringing you in, one way or another.

The Coon: The Coon’s gonna snuff out your light then!

------

Hal Jordan: Something funny?

The Coon: Two words; Ryan Reynolds.

Hal Jordan: Let the record show, you asked for it!

Vs. Green Lantern (John Stewart)

The Coon: Shouldn’t you be making jokes about the Republican Party?

John Stewart: Wrong John Stewart, kid.

The Coon: Damn, that was the only joke I had on you…

------

John Stewart: Cool off before this gets out of hand.

The Coon: You’re looking at a new take on superheroes!

John Stewart: We don’t need your ‘help’ Cartman.

Vs. Harley Quinn

The Coon: Well, if it isn’t the biggest insult to canon.

Harley Quinn: Try to make more sense, ‘kay, hun?

The Coon: Don’t worry, it won’t matter in a sec.

-----

Harley Quinn: Batman says you’re coming with me!

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

Harley Quinn: Patient is clearly delusional.

Vs. The Joker

The Coon: What the hell? I was told you were dead!

The Joker: You’re not from around here either.

The Coon: Just means I can get away with shredding you.

------

The Joker: We have more in common than you’d care to admit.

The Coon: (surprisingly agrees) except I don’t see gain in nuking a city… unless it’s full of hippies.

The Joker: (surprised) huh… touché I guess…

-------

The Joker: Wow, Parent Chili… why haven’t I thought of that?

The Coon: Ya know, somehow your approval makes me sick.

The Joker: Oh don’t worry, I’m now pondering who to serve Coon-flavored meatloaf to….

Vs. Poison Ivy

The Coon: Tell you what, give up and I won’t set any forests ablaze.

Poison Ivy: what makes you think you’d get that chance, little boy?

The Coon: You wouldn’t be the first dumbass I surprised.

------

Poison Ivy: You’re too dangerous.

The Coon: (scoffs) Like you’re any better than me.

Poison Ivy: Young, dumb, and ready to die.

Vs. Robin

The Coon: Time I fight the king of sidekicks.

Robin: I don’t play sidekick or victim.

The Coon: “then you’ll be playing a corpse!” or “That attitude is why you’ll never be a good as yer daddy.”

------

The Coon: In a small way, you remind me of my student.

Robin: (scoffs) you have some wisdom to share?

The Coon: “(disgusted towards Damian) none that you deserve, ass-for-brains.” Or “You’re street-slime compared to Butthole.”

-------

Robin: Should I kill you, or cripple you?

The Coon: Better question is; should I cut off your arms, or your legs with your own sword?

Robin: And people moan about my ego….

Vs. Scarecrow

The Coon: Ya know, I’ve a history of scaring people too.

Scarecrow: And yet your efforts are driven by your own fears.

The Coon: I hear the same can be said for you, Crane!

------

Scarecrow: So many curious fears The Coon has…..

The Coon: (slightly nervous) Something tells me I made a mistake…

Scarecrow: You’ll experience them all at once!

Vs. Supergirl

The Coon: The Coon’s here to claw at injustice!

Supergirl: This sure is a funny way to show it.

The Coon: I hear your cousin might disagree.

-------

Supergirl: How can you hurt so many people?

The Coon: You’re looking at a new take on superheroes!

Supergirl: That’s not how it looks to me.

Vs. Power Girl

The Coon: Supergirl? How the hell did you grow that fast?

Power Girl: Nope, I'm Karen Starr of Earth-2.

The Coon: (groans) Now that’s not fair, at least not for me!

------

Power Girl: Time for me to do some pest control!

The Coon: The Coon will tear through you like garbage.

Power Girl: There’s gonna be a juvie cell with your name it, kid.

Vs. Superman

The Coon: Well, if it isn’t the biggest insult to canon.

Superman: Who are you to judge me?

The Coon: Someone who’ll be taking your job from you.

------

The Coon: I have kryptonite ring claws as a Gear option.

Superman: Or maybe you’re bluffing?

The Coon: You wouldn’t be the first dumbass I surprised.

------

Superman: Why are you on my earth?

The Coon: Why else? I’m here to seize Brainiac’s assets.

Superman: My fists have a better idea.

------

Superman: This won’t be a fair fight.

The Coon: I see health bars above us that say otherwise.

Superman: Forget I said anything….

Vs. Bizarro

The Coon: I was gonna claw your face, but looks like someone beat me to it.

Bizarro: Am you trying insult Bizarro?

The Coon: Ha! you’ll wish that was all I was doing.

------

Bizarro: Fluffy critter make good pillow.

The Coon: (slightly nervous) Something tells me I made a mistake…

Bizarro: Ah! Me must stuff you first!

Vs. Swamp Thing

The Coon: So I’m fighting a hippie monster. Sweet!

Swamp Thing: Your mockery is wasted, child.

The Coon: Ha! You’ll wish that was all I was doing.

-------

Swamp Thing: You have offended nature.

The Coon: The Coon will tear through you like garbage.

Swamp Thing: The Green will humble you.

Vs. Wonder Woman

The Coon: Prepare to get Cooned.

Wonder Woman: You face a goddess of war.

The Coon: Time to put Coon on top of the food chain.

------

Wonder Woman: You’ll hurt people if I let you go.

The Coon: (scoffs) Like you’re any better than me.

Wonder Woman: “This insult will not stand!” or “A shame you will die so young.”

Vs. Darkseid

The Coon: Prepare to get Cooned.

Darkseid: (dismissively) Let my parademons deal with this..

The Coon: You wouldn’t be the first dumbass I surprised.

------

Darkseid: Even by Earth's standards, you are pathetic.

The Coon: Ha! You don’t know me that well, do you?

Darkseid: Your vanity will be your undoing.

----

The Coon: Prepare to get Cooned.

Darkseid: You are challenging a god, fool.

The Coon: Sweet! Dibs on Apokolips if I win!

Vs. Red Hood

The Coon: I thought you’d be in favor of me clawing at crime.

Red Hood: I know you only fight for yourself, fatso.

The Coon: Just for that, I’ll be sending you to Batman in a pitcher!

--------

Red Hood: Now this is just bizarre!

The Coon: You’re looking at a new take on superheroes.

Red Hood: Maybe consider a new line of work.

Vs. Starfire

The Coon: So is there any chance I could join the Titans?

Starfire: I’m extending the offer to all the other Freedom Pals, but you’re not on the list, Coon.

The Coon: Just for that, I’ll be sending you to Batman in a pitcher!

-----

Starfire: How can you justify what you've done?

The Coon: “You’re looking at a new take on superheroes.” Or “Why else? I’m here to seize Brainiac’s assets.”

Starfire: Think. Where has materialism gotten you?

-----

The Coon: Okay! Where the hell did you take Butthole?

Starfire: The New Kid is with the Titans now, Eric.

The Coon: (angrily) MOTHERFUCKER!

Vs. Sub-Zero

The Coon: Okay! Where the hell did you take Butthole?

Sub-Zero: Dovahkiin is now a student of the Lin Kuei.

The Coon: I’ll just have to claw you into giving them back!

------

Sub-Zero: I now know the villain you truly are.

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

Sub-Zero: For the safety of all, you will die.

------

The Coon: You’ll either be dead or crapping your pants when I’m done.

Sub-Zero: To think so demonstrates your ignorance.

The Coon: You wouldn’t be the first dumbass I surprised.

-----

Sub-Zero: Your former protégé told me of your crimes against them.

The Coon: What crimes?

Sub-Zero: “On their behalf, I’ll see you face justice.” Or “None of your deceptions will work on me.”

Vs. Black Manta

The Coon: Nice helmet, it’s mine now.

Black Manta: Assuming I don’t fry the fat off of you.

The Coon: Time to put Coon on top of the food chain.

------

Black Manta: You’re out of your element.

The Coon: The Coon will tear through you like garbage.

Black Manta: This is a waste of my time.

Vs. Raiden

The Coon: Okay! Where the hell did you take Butthole?

Raiden: Your former student is now training with the White Lotus.

The Coon: (angrily) MOTHERFUCKER!

------

Raiden: Your pretensions to honor do not fool me!

The Coon: You’re looking at a new take on superheroes.

Raiden: “Dovahkiin was wise to break from your influence!” or “To the Netherrealm with you!”

-------

The Coon: Make way for The Coon.

Raiden: The Elder Gods will stand against you.

The Coon: Time to put Coon on top of the food chain.

-------

Raiden: You are dirty beast befouling this realm!

The Coon: Uhhh…. you’re taking my raccoon theme a bit too literally, Raiden.

Raiden: Not even the Elder Gods can rehabilitate you!

Vs. Black Lightning

The Coon: The Coon’s here to claw at injustice!

Black Lightning: You're street slime with delusions of grandeur.

The Coon: Just for that, I’ll be sending you to Batman in a pitcher!

-------

Black Lightning: It’s a shame Mr. Garrison was a subpar teacher.

The Coon: You’ll get no argument from me, he’s always been an asshole.

Black Lightning: That’s why I fight ignorance.

------

Black Lightning: Ever regret the pain you cause?

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

Black Lightning: “That’s what’s called an ‘alternative fact.’” Or “This time, you’re gonna listen.”

Vs. Hellboy

The Coon: Would you believe I once helped stop the apocalypse by swearing?

Hellboy: Yeah, I saw that movie. Liked you better on screen by the way.

The Coon: (surprised….) Wait… (….then excited) I got a movie?

----

Hellboy: Y'know, fighting kids isn't my thing.

The Coon: Now there’s a headline; “The Coon scares the devil!”

Hellboy: Geez what an ego……

Vs. Atom

The Coon: So it’s the Coon versus…. what exactly?

The Atom: Just a PhD candidate with a quantum bio-belt!

The Coon: (chuckles) Ever hear what usually happens to nerds who cross me?

-------

The Atom: At school, I never liked big bullies.

The Coon: What’s Kinny been telling you? I’m a hero!

The Atom: I have a Hulu subscription that’s told me otherwise.

Vs. Enchantress

The Coon: Now I’ve been hoping for a chance to kick your ass!

Enchantress: Quite adorable that you think you can win.

The Coon: Consider this payback for the suck-ass movie you appeared in.

------

Enchantress (June): Son of a.. this can’t be happening!

The Coon: ah ha! a chance to kill you before you transform!

Enchantress: Too little too late for that, little boy!

Vs. Leonardo

Leonardo: You’re rarely a fighter, Cartman, why would you come here?

The Coon: Why else? I’m here to seize Brainiac’s assets.

Leonardo: That just spells disaster for every Earth, even yours.

------

Leonardo: So tell me, what did the New Kid ever see in you?

The Coon: (grins with slight genuine sincerity) they saw someone who respected their potential. Not even their parents did that.

Leonardo: Bet they’d like training under Master Splinter better.

------

The Coon: You know, I’ve always wanted to try Turtle Soup.

Leonardo: You won’t flip this turtle on his shell.

The Coon: You wouldn’t be the first dumbass I surprised.

--------

The Coon: Ok, I KNOW you’re not from around here.

Leonardo: Just as much of a tourist as you are, dude.

The Coon: Just means I can get away with shredding you.

--------

Vs. Michelangelo

The Coon: You know, I’ve always wanted to try Turtle Soup.

Michelangelo: You’ll be rage-quitting in a heartbeat.

The Coon: Ha! Raph wishes he rages like I do!

--------

Michelangelo: Just so you know, I’ve played your games AND watched your show.

The Coon: Show? games? How come no one told me I had those?

Michelangelo: Let’s just say you’re gonna wish you were fighting Kenny.

---------

Vs. Raphael

The Coon: You know, I’ve always wanted to try Turtle Soup.

Raphael: Your head will crack before my shell does.

The Coon: Shredder’s got nothing on The Coon.

-------

Raphael: (chuckles) And people say I got anger issues

The Coon: The Coon will tear through you like garbage.

Raphael: I fought Purple Dragons who were tougher than you, Eric.

Vs. Donatello

The Coon: Never thought I’d go from watching you on TV to fighting you and your bros.

Donatello: Unlike coding, this’ll be easy.

The Coon: (chuckles) Ever hear what usually happens to nerds who cross me?

--------

Donatello: I’ve got a theory as to why you fight.

The Coon: Why else? I’m here to seize Brainiac’s assets.

Donatello: I can’t let that stand.

Mirror Match Intros

Player 1 Coon: Are you my parallel universe self?

Player 2 Coon: Maybe I am, and maybe I’m here to be a better teacher to the New Kid.

Player 1 Coon: Just means I can get away with shredding you.

------

Player 2 Coon: How the hell can there be two of us?

Player 1 Coon: I’m sure as hell not sharing Brainiac’s ship with you!

Player 2 Coon: Don’t worry, it won’t matter in a sec.

#Injustice 2 #injusticegodsamongus #south park #eric cartman #the coon #injustice 2 quotes #quotes

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blackkudosuniverse · 4 years

Text

Matt Robinson

Remembering Matt Robinson.

https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Matt_Robinson_(actor)

Matthew Thomas "Matt" Robinson Jr. (January 1, 1937 – August 5, 2002) was an American actor, writer and television producer. Robinson was the first actor to portray the character of Gordon Robinson on the long–running PBS children's TV program Sesame Street. When Sesame Street began in 1969, not only did Robinson play Gordon, but he also provided the voice of the puppet Roosevelt Franklin and also was one of the show's producers. He left the show in 1971. In later years, when producers needed a last name for the Gordon character, then played by Hal Miller and then Roscoe Orman, they used Matt's last name.

Family, early life

Career

Sesame Street

Roosevelt Franklin

Post-Sesame Street

The Cosby Show (1983–1990)

The Confessions of Stepin Fetchit (1993)

Awards and honors

* Daytime Emmy Awards – 1983, nominated (along with Bob Brush, Harry Crossfield, Martin Donoff, and Howard Friedlander) for Outstanding Individual Achievement in Children's Programming-Writing for Captain Kangaroo

* Distinguished Alumnus Award from Penn State University (1994)

* 42nd NAACP Image Awards

Personal life

Death

#01/01 #08/05 #black history

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connectionqc · 7 years

Text

Lean In

This post is taken from a talk I gave in October 2017 at Diffrint—a quarterly event where Quad Cities’ artists and storytellers explore various topics. The goal is to create a sense of community around issues that tend to isolate us. The theme was systemic racism. Diffrint is led by Brandon Carleton.

______________

I’m Jason. I’m a pastor of Connection Quad Cities, a church in Davenport. Since I’m a pastor you might think I grew up around religion. But I didn’t. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school that I started participating in a local church. It was at that church I became good friends with James.

James and I became close because he was the first guy I could talk about God with. At the time, I didn’t have any other friends I could talk about God with. James and I bonded over God, video games, and sports.

Why am I telling you about James? Because there’s a couple of stories about him that are important to my gradual awakening to racial inequality and White Privilege.

The One-Drop Rule

James had a Black dad and a White mom—so of course he was my “light-skinned Black friend” instead of my “dark-skinned White friend,” because, well, of the “one-drop rule.” I’d never heard of this rule until recently. This rule is a social construct that was established back-in-the-day that said anyone who was 7/8ths White but 1/8th Black would be considered Black. So your skin pigmentation can be 88% White and only 12% Black, but because of the one-drop rule, you’re Black.

Why was this social construct constructed? So White slave owners could have as many slaves as possible; so Americans could prevent as many interracial couples from marrying as possible; so the White race could maintain it’s supposed purity. And by “purity” they really mean “power.”

James was multi-racial. But socially—experientially, existentially—he was Black.

You Must Have Done Something

One time, during high school, when James was driving through our town, something happened. I wasn’t there; James told me this happened. As James was driving through town, some White guys followed him to his house—and after James parked his car and went inside, they began to yell nasty racial epithets at him.

I remember James telling me this story; I also remember what I was thinking as he told it. I was thinking, “He must have done something to provoke these guys. These guys wouldn’t do what they did just because you’re Black. You must have pulled out in front of them on the road or went around them because they were driving slow—and when you did, they gave you a mean look so you gave one back.”

He must have done something to cause this.

Later that year, James and I (along with some other friends) were at a Christian music festival in Ohio. We were walking through the acres and acres of campers, tents, and lawn chairs to reach one of the stages when James suddenly asked “Did you see the look those folks gave me back there?” I hadn’t seen it. “What happened?” I asked. “They gave me a dirty look. It’s because I’m Black.” “James,” I quickly responded. “They didn’t look at you that way because you’re Black. It’s in your head.” I was sure James was projecting. James was confident he had it right. “You don’t know what it’s like,” he said.

He’s right: I didn’t know what it was like. I was sure James had done something to provoke the dirty look. Maybe he’d stepped on their blanket and got it muddy? “Christians don’t give dirty looks because of skin color,” I thought.

He must have done something to cause this.

From One Neighborhood to the Next

Fast-forward fifteen years. I’m in Chicago at the funeral of my friend Edward Ellis. Ed grew up on the south-side of Chicago. At some point he moved to Muscatine, and pastored a church there—which is where I met him. Ed was a great guy—besides the fact that he liked the White Sox. I miss Ed.

Ed was the real deal: He worked with underprivileged kids in the Muscatine school system, was a community college professor, and a tender-hearted pastor. A year or so before he suddenly passed away, he moved his family back to Chicago, back to his roots.

Ed was Black and his funeral was at a Black church—which gave him a Black funeral. I’d never been to a Black funeral before. White funerals last, what, an hour—tops? Ed’s funeral was nearly three hours. Beautiful music; memorable, inspiring, and hope-filled words from the pastor, family members, and friends.

I remember a lot about that day. One thing I remember is the area of Chicago where Ed’s funeral was. It was a poor part of the city: boarded-up houses, empty and run-down businesses, green spaces with broken fences and scattered litter. I don’t mean to make a caricature of a poor, predominantly Black neighborhood. I’m just trying to paint a picture of what I saw.

I’m also trying to communicate the shock I felt when the car I was riding in crossed over from the predominately Black neighborhood to the predominately White neighborhood. I’m not from Chicago so I don’t know the details of the city's neighborhoods. I just know how quickly things changed from my car window.

On one side of the stop light were broken curbs and homes with tape on the widows to keep cold air from getting in; on the other side were well manicured lawns, garages with room for work benches—let alone 2-3 cars—and, this is what I’ll never forget, people walking their dogs on the sidewalk.

It’s all about context, right? Because in many contexts I wouldn’t think twice about someone walking their dog on a cool March afternoon. But when you suddenly shift contexts, from one—where it seems like a lot of people are struggling to feed their families and keep their children warm and safe at night—to another—where people have enough money (and time and energy) to take their dogs on afternoon walks, to book their mid-week appointment at the dog groomer with high Yelp ratings, and to send their children to the nationally ranked private school that’ll surely get them into a good college one day.

I know it’s weird to bring up dog-walking when talking about systemic racism. I’m just trying to capture what I felt when I went from the poor neighborhood to the rich one, when I crossed over from the overwhelmingly Black part of the city to the White part.

I was shocked. Confused. Speechless. Bothered.

This isn’t about having dogs. I have one—and yes, I take her on walks and get her groomed on occasion. This isn’t about predominantly affluent White neighborhoods not having problems, too. People with every skin color and every economic level have challenges and stresses in life.

What I’m talking about is my experience that March afternoon, of the dramatic change from one part of town to the next: that it speaks to the reality that not everyone starts from the same place.

The Lie of Meritocracy

There’s this idea in our country that everyone has an equal chance, that everyone has the same opportunity, that everyone experiences the same challenges.

The word is “meritocracy.” It’s a word people often use to talk about our country: that our country is a place where people are chosen and advanced purely on the basis of their hard work, talent, and achievement. Meritocracy means:

Women don’t make as much as men for the same job because, well, they’re not working as hard, aren’t as talented, aren’t achieving as much as men.

Black people are pulled over by the police more than Whites because they’re obviously breaking more traffic laws than Whites.

An Iraqi refugee named Aziz has just as good of a chance to achieve the glories of an upper-middle class American life as a sixth generation, European-American citizen named Michael.

President Obama was questioned for months and years about where he was born because people were so passionate about the truth. That, of course, includes Present Trump—who led the “birther movement.”

White Americans would be just as angry at NFL players if the players kneeling were mostly White—and if these White players were kneeling because they were protesting the low pay firefighters are making fighting the horrific forest fires in California. “This isn’t about the flag,” so many White Americans would say. "This is about justice or being fair to those brave firefighters.”

The original intent of the Declaration of Independence, when it says “All men are created equal,” meant women too—and Black people, and Indigenous people. That what they didn’t mean, at the time, were just White men who owned property.

When the US Census Bureau releases shocking numbers of income inequality between races, they’re just kidding. The latest numbers say the median net worth by race/ethnicity per household: White ($132,483), Hispanic ($12,460), and Black household ($9,211).

A Gradual Awakening

I’m far from an expert on racial inequality and systemic racism. I was nervous to speak tonight because I didn’t want to say too much because, well, I really don’t know that much.

I’m just a lower-middle class White guy who’s learning that meritocracy, while a nice idea and maybe something to strive for, isn’t real. It’s a lie.

I’m learning that slavery hasn’t ended—it’s simply evolved.

I’m learning that while we’ve come a long way as a country in terms of treating people with compassion and justice, we have so far to go.

I’m learning, that simply because I’m a While male, I’ve had advantages and opportunities, and quite frankly, power that everyone else hasn’t had. I don’t know the full extent of that power. I just know I have it.

I also know that my primary place, especially at an event like this, is to do a lot more listening than speaking.

It’s been a gradual awakening for me. My friendship with James was important. As was that Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode I watched when I was in middle school where Will gets pulled over by driving a nice car in the wrong neighborhood. I learned a lot from President Obama’s presidency—how such a seemingly good man was treated so terribly by so many simply because his dad was Black and his name sounded funny. When Trayvon was killed—that was really uncomfortable. When Philando Castile was murdered, I started to get angry—because it seemed so obvious that the only thing he did “wrong” was have the “wrong” skin color. And when Kaepernick took a knee, it seemed like he was drawing attention to some real and important issues.

I applaud Kaepernick’s courage, and yet, so many, it seems, misjudge his intention and blame him for “disrespecting the flag,” when all he’s doing is calling our nation to be who we say we are: a land where all people are created equal.

Omar’s Vulnerability

A year ago at this, I was walking through a Halloween store with my friend Omar. I met Omar four years ago when he came to the Quad Cities as an Iraqi refugee. One of the costumes at the store was a Donald Trump mask. Omar looked at the mask and said “I hope Donald Trump doesn’t get elected.” “Why?” I asked. “Because I don’t want to get sent back to Iraq” Omar said.

When Omar said that, it pissed me off. It was infuriating not because Omar and his family would actually get sent back to Iraq (since Omar was already settled in America, he was safe to stay) but because he really thought he might. That’s stress a middle schooler doesn’t need to feel—a middle schooler who already was getting bullied for his religion, broken English, and hand-me-down wardrobe. The last thing Omar needed, a vulnerable resettled refugee, was to feel even less secure.

I was anxious about Donald Trump being elected, but my anxiety didn’t compare to Omar’s. I’m a White male. The way our society is constructed gives me way more power, opportunity, and security than someone like Omar.

That’s not meritocracy. That’s White Privilege. That’s Male White Privilege.

Lean In

My response to (Male) White Privilege isn’t to live immobilized in shame, but rather, to mobilize, first, by leaning in and listening, and second, to work to create a better world. To help create a more compassionate and just world where systemic racism is no more.

The tendency, whenever those with Privilege realize they have it, is to deny or blame. It’s one reason so many are bothered by Kaepernick taking a knee. A common response is to either say his peaceful protest isn’t valid or that he’s “he’s disrespecting the flag.” Instead of turning a blind eye or making him the enemy, why won’t we, instead, lean in and listen to Kaepernick?

If taking a knee bothers you, lean in.

If you’re ever been startled like I was in Chicago that March afternoon, lean in. If you’re shocked like I am at the median household income numbers from the US Census Bureau, lean in.

Those of us with White Privilege have moments in our life when we’re confronted with our Privilege. For example, we say we’re not racist—but then our White daughter starts dating her Black classmate and, for “some reason,” it bothers us. We say our country is the “greatest country in the world” but then we watch that Netflix documentary about our country’s history: we (re)learn the stories about how often Africans, Asians, and Indigenous people were enslaved, imprisoned, or flat out eradicated because they weren’t White. We believe oppression is a thing of the past, but then Trayvon Martin dies, and then Eric Garner, and then Philando Castile, and then… We believe our country was founded on the highest ideals and practices, but then we realize which men were created equal…and which ones were not.

Researches say the easiest and most common thing to do, when faced with the pain of our own racism or faced with the reality that we’re participating in systems that perpetuate inequality, is to deny or blame. Let’s commit tonight to stop doing that. May we, instead, lean into the pain—so we might learn from it.

If any of us feel like we have racial privilege, this is our sacred call: to lean into the struggle, to listen and pay attention to the stories of those who oppressed.

To those of us being oppressed, may you continue to fight for equality. To those of us playing some part in perpetuating a system of oppression, may we, first, listen to to our brothers and sisters being oppressed, and second, join with our brothers and sisters in building a world where systemic racism is no more.

Jason

#connectionqc #diffrint #racism #systemic racism #social justice

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: A Photo Show Romanticizes Yosemite at the Expense of Native Americans

Francis Flora Bond Palmer, “Yosemite Valley – California: The Bridal Veil Fall” (1866), handcolored lithograph (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)

NEW HAVEN — At a time when the legacy of racism of colonialism are returning to the center stage of cultural politics in art institutions across the United States, it is difficult to conceive of exhibition-making as a neutral field that does not participate in the configuration (and, often, the justification) of history. Think about not only the scant presence but also the type of representation garnered by African-Americans and Native Americans — often marginal figures like servants, slaves, and background motifs — in the historical painting show in the permanent collection at the National Gallery of Art. People of color in the United States have fought and are still fighting a long battle not just for acceptance but greater visibility, where race and class inequalities have dominated the cultural landscape since at least the colonial period. Accordingly, whenever art institutions take on chapters of American history as subjects for exhibitions, even those that are strictly descriptive and monographic, a bare minimum of critical engagement with the historical realities of racism in America is expected.

Alfred Bierstadt Summit, “Central Pacific Railroad California” (1872), oil on paper mounted on canvas

This kind of critical engagement is so completely absent at Yale University Art Gallery’s exhibition Yosemite: Exploring the Incomparable Valley that visitors could almost wonder whether it’s actually an ironic montage where wall texts with truly incomparable passages are text paintings by the likes of Sam Durant or Christopher Wool, meant to draw attention to the country’s profound history of systemic racism and the extermination of Native Americans, instead of away from it. But the exhibition, organized by Mark D. Mitchell, the curator of American painting and sculpture at Yale, is anything but funny.

Installed in a dimly illuminated space on the fourth floor of the gallery, the show opens with Alfred Bierstadt’s large oil painting “Yosemite Valley, Glacier Point Trail” (ca. 1873), which commemorates the 150th anniversary of Yale’s Peabody Museum of Natural History and the 100th anniversary of the creation of America’s National Park Service, with a focus on one of America’s most iconic landmarks, the Yosemite Valley in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains. This sets the stage for the exhibition, which makes the American West Coast and its many natural marvels seem sublime in its pristine emptiness, a holy land waiting to be conquered.

James Madison Alden, “Nevada Falls Yo-Semite” (1859), watercolor on paper

The photographs on view are awe-inspiring, unique, and impressive, but the exhibition is, shall we say, rather discreet with its depiction of historical events. For example: “The Miwok people of the central Sierra Nevada Mountains have inhabited the area of the Yosemite Valley for thousands of years. Violent conflicts between Native Americans and the miners of the Gold Rush during the late 1840s and rapacious development of the area by residents of the new state of California — established in 1850 — forced change.” Let me translate that. Here, “violent conflicts” means extermination, “rapacious development” means extermination, and “forced change” means, well, also extermination. The wall texts refer almost casually to the annihilation of Native Americans, unwilling to let this distract viewers from the exhibit’s noble message: “Over the course of the later 19th century, however, naturalist John Muir led a transformation of the nation’s perception of Yosemite by drawing attention to its uniqueness. Instead of viewing the landscape as a resource to be exploited by profit, Muir sought to appreciate Yosemite as a means to better understand nature itself — an approach that changed the direction of the natural sciences in America.”

It’s interesting to hear that, so early on, the United States changed its mind about seeing the landscape as a resource to be exploited in the quest for profit, because this message was certainly forgotten again, as one can easily tell from watching the evening news.

Alfred Bierstadt, “The Trappers Camp” (1861), oil on board

The exhibition couldn’t be any more revealing in its lack of actual native presence. In the first room, Bierstadt’s canvas stands across from a selection of plants from his painting, identified by the School of Forestry and the Peabody Museum: Ponderosa Pine, Sugar Pine, White Fir, Greenleaf Manzanita. Other objects complement the photographs, such as the 1870 book The Heart of the Continent by Fritz Hugh Ludlow, who traveled to Yosemite with Bierstadt; watercolors by James Madison Alley; and albumen prints by Carleton E. Watkins. There are no people to be seen anywhere except at the bottom of Bierstadt’s large canvas, where there are depictions of some visitors who came west after the completion of the transcontinental railway. Without any reference to their extermination, Native Americans reappear in the idyllic setting of Frances Flora Bond Palmer’s small lithographs (1866), seeming to be little more than background characters in an epic drama.

In the second room is a set of baskets made by the Miwok people, with the only credit given to “Mary,” who is shown in a tiny photograph on loan from the Yosemite Museum. There’s also wall text that tells, without an image, about Lucy Telles, another Miwok basket-maker, who was awarded first prize at the Chicago World’s Fair in 1933. (Allow me to translate again: She was awarded a prize for being “exotic” at a colonial kind of theme park.) That’s about as far as Native Americans go in the story this show is telling.

Fritz Hugh Ludlow, “The Heart of the Continent” (1870)

“Yosemite: Exploring the Incomparable Valley,” installation view

It is through exhibitions like this that you can see the profound disconnect between institutions and the history they are entrusted with. The gallery’s collection began in 1832 with a gift of 100 paintings by John Trumbull, and it has since grown to semi-encyclopedic status with a bit of everything, from the tiles of a synagogue in Doro-Europa (third-century Syria) to modern-day Rothkos. It’s astonishing that an institution that has been host to major exhibitions of modern and contemporary art could mount a display in such remarkably poor taste, a sad attempt to look like the information center at Yosemite.

But let’s return to Bierstadt, the most interesting part of the exhibition. His paintings, from Yale’s modest collection, are beautiful, majestic, bathed in a golden haze, as the almost otherworldly “Glacier Point Trail” (1873) shows. This is his signature work, and a former curator at Yale Art Galleries explains what it is meant to represent:

In the 19th century, when Americans, especially Easterners living in cities, looked at a painting by Bierstadt, it gave them the vicarious pleasure of communing with nature, of escaping to someplace where the landscape appeared to be untouched by civilization. That is still, today, our mythic image of the American wilderness — the American frontier — as forever awaiting settlement, forever pristine, forever open to all our hopes and dreams of communion with nature and of a vision for what this nation is and could be.

This is meant not as curatorial text or a press release, but, more poignantly, as a resource for schoolteachers. It makes you seriously wonder whether this isn’t actually the root of a bitter American nationalism, a delusion we are just now beginning to act out once again.

Alfred Bierstadt, “Glacier Point Trail” (1873), oil on canvas

Because the golden haze that inspired Bierstadt, the quintessential painter of the American Romantic landscape, wasn’t otherworldly at all — it was deeply tied to the cares and profits of this world. The painter wanted the viewer to see actual gold, without metaphor: the Gold Rush. (And how could one forget the history of displacement and exploitation that came with it?) Yet, as curator Robin Jaffee Frank adds:

There is this verdant valley. And you imagine yourself being one of those tourists and then your eye goes down into the valley and follows this waterway which leads you into a distance that seems to go on forever, promising that the frontier goes on forever. Bathed in a divine golden haze, this sense that this land has been blessed by God himself. And that idea of America as a chosen place goes back to John Winthrop, the Puritan who looked before him and called this place the Golden City on the Hill.

Bierstadt studied in Germany and was acquainted with the Romantic painters, and he understood that what painters meant by the “sublime” (a concept introduced by British philosophers in the 17th century, referring to the Swiss Alps) was a place beyond beauty: otherworldly, magical, unreachable. When his eye for the uncanny merged with the ambitions of American settlers, the result is almost a theology of colonization that ends in salvation.

One can’t simply dismiss the artistic and intellectual accomplishments of the past as errors when they become associated with historical problems — and that’s not what one would expect from an institution as rooted in tradition as Yale. But different readings are possible. Bierstadt’s kind of sublime has now become, in art and literature, almost the standard response to reality in America: to flee from the scene of the crime, to seek refuge and comfort in beauty and nature, to be untroubled by the facts of the world and in almost perfect agreement with classical liberalism (and its more militant branch, neoliberalism), preaching the ugliness of politics from which one must escape. It is this attitude that has partially destroyed public life in the United States. This kind of romanticism helps us understand the radical impetus of abstract painting in the early and mid-20th century as a reaction to a recalcitrant aestheticism (something that wouldn’t be obvious to our contemporaries). But abstraction is now itself in need of critical review, as it has been, by and large, adopted and merged into the aesthetics of high-end luxury.

Carleton E Watkins, “The Sentinel Rock” (1866), albumen print

There is a shocking optimism in this show about its subject matter, as well as a cynical treatment of the past. It is undeniable — as the exhibition accidentally highlights — that there is a correlation between history, politics, and science in that many scientific discoveries in natural history were the result of colonial exploration and exploitation. This doesn’t necessarily lead us to the conclusion that science is bad; it’s actually morally neutral. But it is crucially important to understand the degree to which we inhabit structures of power and time that are much larger than ourselves. We are constantly surrounded by objects and places imbued with the memory of violence, a violence that is cumulative and, for us as mere observers, unquantifiable. Its presence is not only pervasive throughout history but very much alive today, through our systems of political representation, education, health, housing, welfare, etc. Bierstadt’s empty West Coast landscapes are today more than a memory; they stand for a political reality: the right of access to water, land ownership, economic inequality, military surveillance, black sites, border control, and racial segregation. What a pity for an institution like Yale, founded in the Colonial era, to ignore all of this.

Yosemite: Exploring the Incomparable Valley continues at Yale University Art Gallery (1111 Chapel Street, New Haven) through December 31.

The post A Photo Show Romanticizes Yosemite at the Expense of Native Americans appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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