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mogai-sunflowers · 1 year

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MOGAI BHM- Day 13!

happy BHM! today i’m going to be talking about ballroom culture!

[Image ID: A black-and-white photograph of a drag ball. In the photo, a crowd of Black people are standing around a gated area in a room, watching a Black man, dressed in a short black dress and black combat boots, dance and pose on the tiled floor. End ID.]

The history of drag ball culture can be traced to the 1920s in New York City, just before queer culture began to rise in Harlem and the Harlem Renaissance- however, at this time, mainstream drag balls were pretty much all white. Black performers were allowed to participate, but they were asked to lighten their skin in order to do so, and were often judged harshly and unfairly by completely white judge panels.

This horrible racist abuse led Black and other non-white queer people, especially indigenous and Latino queers, to form their own drag ball subculture. They would organize their own balls, sometimes in official drag ballrooms, and sometimes in their own homes, and drag ball culture really grew during the 60s, 70s, and 80s.

During this time, drag ball culture was organized into different “Houses”, which were official establishments of the culture and events, but also frequently served as solace and shelter for Black and Latino LGBTQ people who had been kicked out of their homes or were facing violence for their identities. These Houses were based on the concept of family and love and defiance, and were the soul of drag ball culture. The first house, which kickstarted ballroom culture from the 1960s on, was the LaBeija House, founded by Crystal and Lottie LaBeija in the 1960s as a response to the racism they’d experienced in extant drag scenes in New York City.

There were many, many, many Houses that participated in drag ball culture- some of the most famous ones include The House Of Ebony, The House Of Xtravaganza, and the House of Ninja. All houses were led by “mothers” and “fathers”, usually elder members from drag ball culture.

Drag scenes in this time period consisted of several different opportunities, mainly for lesbians, both cis and trans, gay men, and trans women. Contestants would “walk” (perform) and participate in different categories based on their identity or how they expressed themselves. These categories produced a lot of queer language as we know it today.

Two terms that originated with/were popularized by ballroom culture of the late 1900s, were ‘butch queen’ and ‘femme queen’. ‘Butch queen’ was a category for performers who were gay men but did not possess hyperfeminine or hypermasculine qualities/expressions, but rather a combination. The term was for a uniquely queer celebration of a blending of masculinity and femininity. ‘Femme queen’ was a category for people who would today be considered transgender women- people who were born ‘male’ but sought forms of gender, sexual, and/or social transition to live and present as a woman.

Femme queens and butch queens were the biggest parts of drag culture. They accompanied other categories, like for butches (not butch queens) who were masculine lesbians. Other categories highlighted ‘Realness’ (the ability of performers to ‘pass’ as straight men/women), ‘business executive’, and several categories that allowed men to still be masculine and women to still be feminine.

Language was very important in drag ball culture. ‘Femme’, ‘butch’, ‘queen’, they all described an aspect of queerness that was personal and yet political at the same time. This dedication to queer language led to the development of unique terms and language to define aspects of ballroom culture- in fact, most modern ‘queer’ language has been appropriated by white queer people from ballroom culture. Terms like ‘spilling tea’, ‘work’, ‘slay’, ‘yass queen’, and many others, all originate from ballroom culture. Many popular dance trends and moves, including the infamous ‘voguing’, also originate from the dance aspects of ballroom culture.

Although the history of drag kings is very often overlooked, they were and just as integral to drag culture as drag queens are. There were drag ball categories for trans men, butch trans men, and for trans men to ‘pass’ as gay men. Butch and trans men categories and experiences in this culture were emphasized and related, building the shared history between butch lesbian and trans male communities. queer history is inextricable from this kind of Black and Latino history. Queer language is not just queer language, and its history deserves to be known and respected.

Sources-

https://mozartcultures.com/en/understanding-the-ballroom-culture-its-incredible-impact-on-the-world/

https://www.allgaylong.com/blog/a-brief-history-of-modern-ballroom-culture/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_LaBeija

https://time.com/5941822/ballroom-voguing-queer-black-culture-renaissance/

@metalheadsforblacklivesmatter @intersexfairy @cistematicchaos

#mogai bhm #mogai #mogai community #bhm #black history month #blm #Black Lives Matter

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sjsmith56 · 1 month

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Sergeant Barnes

Summary: The Howling Commandos have several days leave at their base in England. A nearby dance has the unmarried men getting ready, particularly Bucky Barnes.

Length: 4.4 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Gabe Jones, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, several OFC (named).

Warnings: Bucky worrying about the changes in him, a reference to racism, some anti-American sentiment. Otherwise it’s him being a major flirt.

Author notes: To the younger British women, an American boyfriend could mean access to better food, cigarettes and black-market goods. As a descendant of a British ATS cook and a Welsh soldier it was explained more than once that everyone, both American and British, would use the black market to get goods that were inaccessible otherwise. Nylons, shampoo, perfume, and rationed foods were just some of the more valued items one could buy from their black-market contact. I'm sure someone as popular as Sergeant Barnes would find a way to get those things to the people he was friends with.

🚿 🪒 🍻

The Howling Commandos were given several days of leave while they were in England after one of their successful missions. Some of the married servicemen spent it on base, taking the opportunity to sleep in and relax, perhaps stopping in at a local pub for a quiet drink. Others spent it in London, making the rounds of the various pubs, starting with the Whip and Fiddle, basking in people recognizing them from the news reels, and buying them drinks. Two of the soldiers, namely Bucky Barnes and Gabe Jones, were invited to attend a dance in the small town near where their units were based.

"Sergeant Barnes," greeted Barbara, a barmaid at the local pub, as she placed a glass of whiskey in front of him. "There's a dance tonight. Some of my girlfriends are going. Perhaps you and Private Jones could show us how you Yanks dance. You both look like you know what you're doing on the dance floor."

Jones looked at Barnes and shrugged. "You don't mind my kind being there?" he asked. Barbara looked blankly at him, as if she didn't know what he was talking about. "I could get into trouble asking a white girl to dance."

"Oh that." She laughed and leaned close to him. "It doesn't bother any of us and I'm sure the Sarge will have your back, won't you?"

"Damn right, I will," replied Bucky. "Come on, Gabe. If I can dance with your girlfriends in a club in Harlem, surely you can dance with Barbara and her friends here if they're okay with it." He smiled at the barmaid. "I've seen him dance and he's almost as good as I am. Are you sure you can keep up with us?"

"You two just show up and maybe bring a couple of your friends," she said. "I wouldn't mind getting that Dum Dum fellow on the dance floor."

"Naw, he's married," replied Bucky. "He's in London, anyways. We'll see who we can round up, but you better make sure there's enough girls for us."

After returning to base, Bucky sent Gabe to round up more guys to back them up, in case there was trouble. He went to see Steve, who was supposed to be writing a report of how he rescued so many soldiers at that factory. Instead of being behind a desk in an office Bucky found Steve and Peggy Carter sitting side by side at a table in the commissary, having a coffee together.

"Well, well, well," said Bucky as he sauntered into the room. "You must have finished already."

"Sergeant," smiled Peggy. "Join us."

"Don't mind if I do," he replied, smirking, as he poured himself a coffee from an urn on the counter. "Just came to see how Steve was doing on that report. How is it going? Finished?”

"Pretty good except I’m not done yet," said Steve. “They want me to really emphasize my part in it, but you guys were part of it as well.”

"It’s a morale thing," replied his friend. "You’re a big hero now."

"Well, it just proves I can get the job done, I guess," said Steve. "What have you been doing the last few days?"

"Drinking at the local pub although Gabe and I are going to a dance tonight. Too bad you're still stuck writing the report. Agent Carter, you could come."

She looked back at Steve. "I think I'll stay and keep him company. We can put a radio on if we want to dance."

Steve blushed when Bucky pushed him slightly in the arm, knowing his friend had two left feet. Finishing his coffee, the sergeant stood up.

"Well, I'm going to hit the showers and get myself prettied up," he said, then he grinned. "Don't wait up for me."

As he left the mess hall, he walked past one of the barracks and stuck his head in to say there was a dance in town that night. Several of the soldiers indicated they would be there, and Bucky told them to pass the word on.

Once he got to his barracks, Bucky gathered his shaving kit and clean underwear, heading to the shower building. As he stood under the stream of water, he felt his chin and jaw, noticing his beard had grown in faster than it usually did. Part of him wondered if what that little Nazi, Zola, had injected him with in that lab, made it that way. He didn’t want to think about it and tried to put it out of his mind. Finishing the shower, he came out with a towel wrapped around his waist, nodding at one of the other guys who was shaving at the sink next to him.

"You’re friends with Captain Rogers, right?" asked the man, a Corporal Donovan, if Bucky remembered correctly. “Is it true he was a little guy?”

"Known him since we were kids,” replied Bucky. “He had asthma, stomach issues, caught every illness floating around except polio, which is a miracle in itself, but he had one important thing always going for him." He glanced at the man as he lathered up his face. "Faith and I'm not talking about religion. He believed in doing the right thing all the time, standing up for himself even against the odds."

He stopped saying anything then, wondering if he was even allowed to talk about the changes in Steve. Donovan didn’t ask anything else, but finished shaving and rinsed his face off.

“You going to that dance?” he asked. Bucky nodded as he shaved his throat area. “I’ll see you there, Sarge.”

“Yeah, sure,” replied Bucky, feeling even more certain he shouldn’t have said anything.

He took the last few swipes with his razor, then felt with his fingertips for any spots that he missed. Satisfied, he rinsed the remaining shave cream off of his face, dried it, and applied some aftershave to his face, patting his cheeks after. As he brushed his teeth, he thought about who would be there. Barbara was fun. Maybe he would be able to go home with her as she lived close by. With being on leave, he didn’t have to be on base all the time. Since he was rescued, he noticed in the few times he had been with a woman that it got up faster, kept up longer, and was ready to go again quicker. Even though he had no issues before the war, since he was experimented on, that guy that he used to be seemed like a schoolboy. Perhaps he should have said something to someone about the changes he noticed but then they would want to do tests on him. What if the Nazis did something to him that would make him a traitor? He looked at himself in the mirror and breathed out. No, he would deal with it. No one else had to know.

He picked up his shaving kit and went over to where his clean underwear, T-shirt and trousers were hanging, putting them on. Placing his soiled clothes in a laundry bag with his ID on it, he reminded himself to drop it off at the laundry before he went to the dance and headed back to the barracks. Opening his footlocker he found clean socks, slipping them on. From his upright locker, he pulled out a dress shirt, doing up the buttons, then changed into his dress trousers. Tucking the shirt in, he tightened the belt, then slipped his dress shoes on. His watch came next then he took his tie with him to stand in front of a mirror on the wall and put it on, making sure it looked crisp against his clean dress shirt. Returning to his locker he put his dress jacket on next, making sure he had all of his insignias and badges on, and the belt adjusted properly. Most of them didn't matter much to him except for his sniper's badge, sergeant's insignia, and the newest, a Howling Commandos patch, but the ladies sure liked them. He pulled a couple of packs of cigarettes out of his footlocker and put them in his jacket pocket, along with his Zippo lighter.

"Hey, I'm headed to the laundry, if any of you have some to drop off," he announced to the others that were there.

Gabe tossed him his bag, and two more were thrown at his feet. Picking them up he took them over to the laundry building. Stepping inside he saw that Mrs. Watkins was taking in the bags of dirty laundry. The older lady smiled at him.

"Sergeant Barnes," she said. "We missed you the other day. You promised you would get us some tinned fruit."

"I did promise and I'm sorry I didn't come through," he said, putting the four bags on the counter. "I'll tell you what. I'll go over to the commissary right now and pick up a couple of large tins, just for you, sweetheart."

"Stop it, I'm a married woman and old enough to be your ...."

"Older sister," he interrupted. "I still don't believe that you have a son in the British Army. Not with those dimples."

The older woman blushed. "You do know how to make a woman feel young," she replied. "Go on then. Get those tins and I'll write up these laundry tickets."

"You're a doll, Mrs. Watkins," he grinned. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Heading over to the commissary he looked to see which of the ATS cooks were on duty. The Auxiliary Territorial Service was the women's branch of the British Army. Most of its members were cooks, clerks and storekeepers although Bucky heard that some were being trained to join the anti-aircraft batteries as part of some mixed crews, and in the searchlight crews that lit up incoming enemy aircraft during air raids. He was pleased to see that one of his regular girlfriends, Vera, was on duty. Picking up a paper napkin from the dispenser he tore a strip off of it, rolled it up into a little ball and aimed it at the blonde. When it hit her, she frowned then looked around at who would do such a thing. Once she saw him, she grinned and jerked her head around to the back, before calling to one of the other women.

"I'm taking a smoke break!"

Her sergeant acknowledged it and Vera slipped through the back of the structure, coming out to find Bucky waiting for her with one of packages of cigarettes from his footlocker.

"Oh, love," she cooed. "Are those for me?"

"Absolutely, doll," he replied. "Just got back the other day from ... well I can't tell you where I was because it's classified."

He put two cigarettes in between his lips and lit them, handing her one, then tucking the almost full package into a pocket in her apron. She took a long drag and closed her eyes as she inhaled the smoke then let it languidly out. A tendril of hair had worked its way out of her hair net and Bucky gently tucked it back in.

"I missed you, baby," he murmured. "Thought about you."

"No, you didn't," she replied. "I know you have other girlfriends, and I really don't mind. You made it very clear that what we have is just a bit of fun. I'm not complaining. What do you want?"

"See, this is what I like about you, Vera," smiled Bucky. "You know a guy like me has all sorts of obligations. I kind of promised someone a couple of large tins of fruit. She did a favour for me." Vera raised her eyebrows at him. "Not that kind of favour. She reminds me of my mother, treats me like her son who's in the British Army. Now those cigarettes are for you, and I just might be able to find some black-market nylons, if you can help me with this obligation."

"I don't know, Bucky," said the dark-eyed blonde. "They're cracking down on pilfering. I heard one of the storekeepers got canned for taking a tin of meat for her mam. I need this job. My sister just found out she's expecting, and it won't be long before she's let go from the factory."

"How about if I distract your sergeant and you just liberate a couple of the tins, put them outside the door here? Then you go back to your station, I’ll take several more minutes to make sure you're in the clear, then come back and grab the tins. Better yet, if you do get into trouble, I'll vouch for you. Being a Howling Commando has its advantages."

"You'll lose your rank," she stated. "I don't want that."

"Never wanted to be a sergeant," he answered. "Hate the responsibility. Come on, Vera. Help a soldier out. Next time we're on a date I'll do that thing you like." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, making her giggle. "You know you like that."

"Alright, go on with you," she said. "You distract the old biddy and I'll get your tins, just two. Any more is pushing it."

Grasping her face in his hands Bucky kissed her deeply then pulled away. "That's a down payment on our date," he smiled. "I owe you, doll."

She pushed him away, shaking her head at his audacity. Returning to the front of the service area he saw the sergeant haranguing one of the other cooks. Stubbing his cigarette out he walked close to where the grey-haired woman was and waited patiently. When she finished criticizing the cook, he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, Sergeant?" he asked politely.

She turned to look at him, frowning at first. "What is it, Sergeant?" she asked. "I'm a little busy here."

"Yes, Ma'am, I can see that," he said. "I need your help and Major Falsworth, one of my fellow Howling Commandos, said it was something that you would be able to assist me with."

"The Major said that?" Her face brightened. Bucky was glad he had interpreted her longing glances at the British Major correctly. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, Ma'am." He hesitated. "No, perhaps I shouldn't ask, as the ingredients would be too difficult to acquire."

"Why don't you let me determine that," she replied, firmly.

"Well, the General apparently had a British mother and he said she made a Bakewell something with a cherry on it. What was it again?"

He put on his best thinking face. "Cherry Bakewell?" She looked at him inquisitively.

"Yes, that's it!" he smiled. "Would you be able to make him a cherry Bakewell? I think's it close to the date where his mother passed away, God rest her soul, and I thought seeing something that he had such fond memories of would help him feel better."

"That's a lovely sentiment, Sergeant but that recipe requires flour, ground almonds, egg, butter, sugar ... I just couldn't justify the cost of it, not even for the General. I'm not even sure I could find some of the ingredients, not when there's a war on."

He noticed Vera coming back to her station, giving him a big smile. Putting a look of disappointment on his face he nodded sagely at the older woman.

"Well, thank you anyways," he said. "By the way Major Falsworth described one, it sounds like quite the treat. Perhaps someday, when the ingredients are more available, we could see about it. I appreciate your honesty."

She nodded at him, and he tipped his cap to her then winked at Vera on his way outside. Slipping to the back he found the two large tins, and scooped them up, quickly heading back to the laundry. When Mrs. Watkins saw him approaching, she gave him a big smile.

"There you go," he said, handing her the two tins. "Mind you don't flash them about. I wouldn't want any of my other girlfriends around here to think I have a favourite."

"Go on with you, you're such a flirt," blushed Mrs. Watkins. "I know the drill. Here's your tickets, love. They'll be ready the day after tomorrow."

"You're a real cracker," grinned Bucky, tipping his cap and picking up the laundry tickets.

On the way back he stopped at the command tent to see if any mail had arrived and grabbed a stack of letters. By the time he got back to the barracks nearly everyone who was going to dance was ready. He handed out the other laundry tickets to those who gave him their bags then distributed the mail. With that task done and before they left, he made sure everyone going had everything they needed, including condoms, money, and cigarettes. With complaints they were going to miss the bus the assorted men walked to the gates of the base and waited for the local bus that headed into the nearby town.

When it arrived, they clambered on. As ladies got on, they offered their seats to them, chatting to them when they learned the ladies were also headed to the dance. Some of the older folk rolled their eyes at the confidence of the American soldiers and as they got off near the dance hall Bucky heard one older gentleman mutter.

"Look at them Yanks; overpaid, oversexed, and over here."

He grinned at the oversexed part, knowing it was true for him, at least. Not that he would ever force a woman, but he would sure spend time convincing a willing girl that he was worth having fun with. The chase was part of the fun, and he didn't always care if the girl put out or not. If she did, he would make sure she enjoyed the encounter. If she didn't, he wouldn't worry about it. A line was already at the dance hall as he joined it and pulled out his cigarettes to light one up. A woman's hand took it from his and put it between her lips. Turning to look he smiled.

"Barbara, you made it," he said, lighting the cigarette up for her then lighting one up for him. He looked past her. "Bring a date? Did you bring friends?" He gestured to the other soldiers around him. "I brought mine."

She looked at all of the men, some of them eyeing her back. "Well done, Sarge," she answered, as she blew out some smoke. "I brought friends. I want the first dance with you."

"Absolutely, doll," he smiled. "Is your flatmate home?" She shook her head and smiled, taking another drag of her cigarette. "I guess that means we'll have the last dance together, yeah?"

She didn't answer but did link her arm with his and they stepped forward as the line grew shorter. When they finally got inside the hall Bucky went to the bar and got himself a scotch and Barbara a gin and tonic. They sipped it as Gabe and several other soldiers from the base joined them. A friend of Barbara's also came over, giving Gabe a good look.

"Looks like the band is about to start," said Bucky, as they put their drinks on a railing beside the wall. "Come on Babs, I'll show you how a boy from Brooklyn dances."

As G.I. Jive began Bucky got into the swing of things, then noticed Gabe beside him with Barbara's friend. The two men grinned at each other as they each showed their moves to their dance partners. For the next several dances the two men danced with the same girls then Gabe finally indicated he needed a break and saluted Bucky, before pulling Celeste, his dance partner, off the dance floor. They both had some of their drinks as Bucky stayed out for one more dance before he and Barbara finally took a break, returning to their drinks.

"Well, doll?" asked Bucky. "How was that?"

"Not bad," she replied, coolly. Bucky almost did a spit take which she laughed at. "Alright, Bucky, it was pretty good. You're very light on your feet and know what you're doing."

A slow song came up and she put her drink down, putting her hand out to Bucky. With a grin he spun her out to the dance floor then pulled her close, as The Man I Love played. Bending his head down to hers he breathed in her hair, appreciating that she had washed it for tonight. With all of the rationing going on he knew that shampoo was almost non-existent, meaning she used some of her meagre ration of bar soap to do the job. He wondered if he could find some black-market shampoo for her.

"Your hair smells great," he murmured. "You look good, too. Should have said it when you found me in the line."

"You're saying it now," replied Barbara, then she looked up at him. "I'm glad you made it. You're always fun, Bucky."

He smiled and kissed her lightly on the shell of her ear. Even though several other girls gave him the eye he decided to stick with Barbara for the evening. She was a good egg and like Vera, knew he wasn't looking for love, just a bit of fun. Looking at the other dancers he was happy to see that all of the men that came from their base had dance partners. When the band took a break, he and several others lined up at the kitchen window, ordering fish and chips as well as bags of crisps to munch on. There was a lot of laughter during the short break as people hurried to eat before the dancing started up again. Bucky had to intervene during an argument between two soldiers, as one of them lost his dance partner when she left early, then began chatting up other girls during the break. Barbara helped, finding one of her girlfriends who had arrived late.

As they headed out onto the dance floor several women from the kitchen came out with trays, clearing the debris left from the food, as well as picking up empty glasses. They danced nearly all of the dances, with Bucky having a full drink during the ones they sat out. Barbara sat on his lap during their short breaks, receiving several intense kisses from Bucky that left no doubt about his intentions afterwards. After several hours the last call for drinks was made and couples began leaving. Bucky didn’t even feel any effects from all the alcohol he drank. He noticed Gabe leaving with Celeste then turned to Barbara and put his arm around her.

"What do you say, should we head out?" he asked, giving Barbara a look that made her feel warm inside.

"Alright," she replied. "You'll walk me home?"

He nodded, drained the rest of his drink and stopped to pick up his cap at the hat check. They headed out into the night and Barbara reached into her handbag for her flashlight, dimmed down so that it was just bright enough to light their path. Ten minutes later Barbara slowed up in front of a row house. Bucky ran his hands down her arms, then around her waist and kissed her hard, pulling her close to his body. She kissed him back then kept her face close to his.

"Are you coming up?" she asked.

"If you want," he replied, gazing at her intently. "Am I staying?"

He could see her smile in the dark. "If you want."

Slowly she pulled herself away and took her key out, then opened the door to the building. Following her inside, they quietly made their way up the stairs to the third floor, and she unlocked her door. Before she could turn on a light Bucky pulled her into his arms and kissed her, twisting their tongues together as if it was the last time. She whimpered slightly, then pulled him into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, knowing that the best part of inviting Sergeant Bucky Barnes into your bed was that he would make a girl feel like she was the most important thing in the world for the next few hours. After he left, it was certain that he wouldn't blab about it to anyone. He would keep a ladies' reputation intact and if she ever found a fellow that wanted to marry her, would be the first one to offer congratulations, saying the fellow was a lucky man. More importantly, he would mean it. One thing that all of the women in his life hoped for Sergeant Barnes was that someday he would find the right woman who would make him a lucky man. Certainly, she would be a lucky woman.

One Shots Masterlist

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes oneshot #ww2 bucky #bucky flirting

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themimicbird · 3 months

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Currently Free Films & Series on YouTube

Version From: March 31, 2024

💋 Disclaimer: I will attempt to update this list as needed. To ensure you're viewing the most up to date list, click the link in my pin post. The following are not listed in any order. Films & Series are added based on YouTube monetary status, genre, content, wardrobe, or having a storyline within the industries/themes related to my blog. Feel free to suggest things to add!

Ballet Shoes (2007)

Adopted by an eccentric explorer, three orphans struggle to fulfill their ambitious dreams of being an actor, pilot, and ballet dancer. Being poor themselves they accept the offer of an free dance education and stage roles. The three sisters attempt to chance their dreams and make enough money to make ends meet.

Penelope (2008)

Born with the snout of a pig, young Penelope Wilhern spends life as a virtual prisoner in her home. Believing that the only way to break the curse is to marry one of her own kind, that of a high status, she meets a number of suitors but all reject her. Two devious men, one with a grudge against the family, hire a man to pose as a suitor, but complications arise when he begins to fall in love with Penelope, and she makes a bid for freedom.

Sparkle (2012)

In the tradition of "dreamgirls" comes this Cinderella based story. Three sisters from Harlem form a singing group and try to make it big which leads them to take a path of romance, tragedy, and finally triumph.

27 Dresses (2008)

Perennial bridesmaid Jane always puts the needs of others before her own, making her the go-to gal whenever someone needs help with wedding plans. So when Jane's younger sister Tess snags the man Jane secretly loves, Jane finds herself questioning her role as a wedding junkie for the first time in her life. Meanwhile, a handsome reporter sees Jane's unusual story as his ticket off the bridal beat.

Boys on the Side (1995)

After breaking up with her girlfriend, a nightclub singer, Jane, answers a personal ad from Robin, a real estate agent with AIDS, seeking a cross-country travel partner. On their journey from New York City to Los Angeles, the two stop by Pittsburgh to pick up Robin's friend Holly, who is trying to escape an abusive relationship. With three distinct personalities, the women must overcome their differences to help one another.

The Magic of Ordinary Days (1995)

Set during World War II, the poignant love story is about an unwed pregnant woman who is sent to a small Colorado town to marry a lonely farmer who agrees to raise her child as his own. Livy Dunne dreams of a career as an archaeologist until she becomes pregnant by a dashing soldier who leaves her behind.

H20 Just Add Water (2009) | 3 Seasons

Teenagers always feel different, but these three Australian girls really are different; they're mermaids! Trying to keep their special powers a secret is hard for Emma, Rikki and Cleo. When they're not in school they're using their magical powers to save sea turtles and rescue those in need. Local bully Zane and popular snob Miriam don't make it easy on the girls to keep their adventures hidden.

That Girl (1969) | 3 Seasons

From the small town of Brewster in upstate New York, Ann Marie has just moved to New York City on her own to pursue an acting career, much to the chagrin of her overprotective parents, Lew and Helen Marie, who see both Ann's chosen career and New York City as no place a young woman should navigate on her own. As Ann goes on one audition after another, she has to decide if any acting role is worth it in the long term of the serious actress she sees herself as being. In living her New York City life, Ann meets Donald Hollinger, a magazine writer, the two who fall for each other. Don is another aspect of New York that Lew in particular doesn't like, as although he knows deep down that Don is a good guy, no man is good enough in Lew's eyes for his daughter.

A Perfect 14 (2020)

Exploring the fascinating world of plus-size modelling and the women involved who are fighting to reshape fashion and the standards of society.

#film #movies #Ballet Shoes #penelope #sparkle #youtube #free to watch with ads #free streaming #free movies #themimicbird #27 dresses #boys on the side #magic of Ordinary days #h20 just add water #that girl 1969 #that girl #a perfect 14

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clockwrkcabaret · 4 months

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Countdown to the Future

WARNING! This show is for adults. We drink cocktails, have potty mouths and, at least, one of us was raised by wolves.

The Clockwork Cabaret is a production of Agony Aunt Studios. Featuring that darling DJ Duo, Lady Attercop and Emmett Davenport. Our theme music is made especially for us by Kyle O’Door.

This episode aired on Mad Wasp Radio, 12.31.23.

New episodes air on Mad Wasp Radio on Sundays @ 12pm GMT! Listen at www.madwaspradio.com or via TuneIn radio app!

Playlist:

Mindy Gledhill – Anchor

Tin Hat Trio & Tom Waits – Helium Reprise

The Puppini Sisters – Wuthering Heights

The Careless Lovers – Black Coffee

The Two Man Gentlemen Band – Chocolate Milk

The Tiger Lillies & Kronos Quartet – Gin

Beirut – Elephant Gun

The Lost Fingers – Tainted Love

Squirrel Nut Zippers – Put A Lid On It

Dandy Wellington – Harlem Rhythm

The Harlem James Gang – Huff With Us

Max Raabe & Palast Orchester – Let’s Talk About Sex

Caravan Palace – L’Envol

Caro Emerald – You Don’t Love Me

Tape Five – A Cool Cat In Town (feat. Brenda Boykin)

The Hillbilly Moon Explosion – Enola Gay

Nekromantix – Dead Girls Don’t Cry

Imelda May – Mayhem

Murder By Death – Dead Man’s Party

Man Man – Dig Deep

DADDY LONG LEGS – Rockin’ My Boogie

Black Pumas – Colors

Blackstreet – No Diggity

Boyz II Men – Motownphilly

TLC – Creep

Janelle Monáe – Dance Apocalyptic

Wet Leg – Chaise Longue

PRIZM – Dreams

System Exclusive – Party All The Time

Nina Hagen – Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off

Check out this episode!

#alternative #Comedy #dark americana #folk #indie #Mad Wasp Radio #music #neo vintage #punk #Steampunk

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libras-child · 2 years

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Them There Eyes

Warning: N/A

Pairing: Pre-serum Steve x Black female reader

Word count: 1266

I honestly hope y’all like it. I never see much Steve rogers x black reader based in the 40s.(if you know some tag me). If there is something you want to say to help me improve it would be a big help. I enjoy writing. I’m far from great but I really hope you like it. Sorry for the rambling 😭

——————————————————————————

“Come on Steve!”

“Buck, where are we going?”

“To this club, it’s out in Harlem, There’s this beautiful dame out there she sings on Saturday nights.”

“I’m not looking to get buzzed.”

“And you don’t have to. Just follow my lead.”

The two traveled by cab. Bucky in his uniform and Steve in a button up and slacks. Bucky was known to have rhythm and was often caught shaking a leg with a few women. Steve on the other hand had two left feet and would be seen standing near a wall or sat in a corner. Tonight would be more of the same, Steve thought as he sat in the back of the cab. Finally they pulled up in front of the Onyx Club, the name was flashing in bright white lights, jazz and people talking could be heard from the sidewalk. Bucky looked excited, while Steve looked amazed yet annoyed. As they walked in the guard asked Steve for ID,even made a comment about him being Bucky’s younger brother. Steve scoffed at that but made his entrance quickly. They sat at the bar for a few before Bucky ran off to dance with some girls. Shortly after, the fast paced jazz ended with a round of applause.

“Alright, quiet down now. We have a broad who honestly needs no introduction and don’t let her size fool you, cause boy can she blow… Ladies and Gentlemen… Madame Marie”

You walked out in a sparkly black dress that exposed your shoulders but wrapped around your neck. Your black silk gloves reached up to touch the soft curls that were spiraling around your head. Your ears were adorned with silver teardrop earrings that tugged. Plump lips painted red and a radiant white smile had Steve mesmerized.

“A beautiful dame she is.” Steve said to himself.

“That’s not her name you know…” Steve looked over at the bartender who was pouring a drink.

“Excuse me?”

“Her name. It isn’t Marie.” He said, glancing at Steve.

“How y’all doing on this fine Saturday evening?… Good?… I’m glad. Tonight I will be singing a song by the wonderful Lady Day, called All of me.”

You gaze over the crowd to see people dancing, talking, drinking, just having a good time. It makes you happy to see people enjoy your singing. It keeps you going despite the darkness your life carries. You finish up your first song and a round of applause booms through the room. You smile from ear to ear, happiness swells in your chest. You give the room another glance and your smile wavers at the sight of a man leaning on the bar. He looked so frail, sickly even, but something about those eyes. Icy blues, causing girls to catch a chill. He was staring back at you in wonderment and you lost your train of thought.

“Next song!” A lady yelled.

After looking at those eyes you had to change the next selection. You ran over to the band and asked if they knew Them There Eyes by Lady Day as well.

“We sure do!” You returned to the mic and looked at that small beautiful man as the band started playing.

I fell in love with you, the first time I looked into

Them there eyes.

As you sang you kept eye contact with him until the jazz break. You felt his eyes dance over your figure when you looked away. Your hips bounced and swayed to the horns as your feet twisted and turned. During the rest of the song you locked eyes with a few other men. All thought they had a chance. Shaking your hips seductively, lots of whistles and hollers were released from the crowd.

“Don’t go dolly dizzy, she’s got a man back at home.” Steve blinked away from you to the bartender with creased eyebrows.

“Every man in here is looking just how you are right now. She’s gonna break your heart.” He wiped the bar and went to the back for more Scotch. Steve looked back at you. That dress hugged your curves so very well, Steve thought. As the song wrapped you clapped and cheered with the crowd.

“Round of applause for this lovely band… A round of applause for the amazing Billie Holiday. Thank you, goodnight.”

As Steve watched as you walked backstage, Bucky approached him with a girl on his arm.

“What did I say… was I wrong?” Bucky said tapping Steve’s shoulder.

“You were right.” Steve smirked. Suddenly applause boomed once more. The crowd parted like the Red Sea and you were ushered to a table with other people from the jazz scene. There wasn’t much Steve could say. So he sat at the bar staring at his drink for a few.

“Are you going to drink that? One martini please, Joe.” He smelled your sweet scent before he heard you. Steve looked at you straight in the eye given you both were around the same height.

“Me?”

“We’ll, yeah you're the only fine fellow that I could possibly be talking to.”

“Fine fellow?”

“Yes, now what is your name?”

“Steve… Rogers, yours?” She swallowed her martini in one big gulp.

“So what do you do Steve?”

“I’m going to join the military.”

“Like your friend James over there?”

“You know Bucky?”

“Yea he’s only here every Saturday…Here he comes now. Hi, handsome.”

“Marie, baby, you sounded amazing.” Bucky leaned in to kiss your cheek. Steve felt like an outsider to you and Bucky's relationship.

“I know Barnes, you tell me every Saturday.” You hit his chest playfully.

“Steve, Marie, this is Anna.” Bucky was beaming at the lady on his arm.

“You look really pretty tonight. Be nice to my friend Barnes here.” You gave the woman a simple shake of the hand. Steve gave a simple wave. The pair then walked away to dance.

“He has a new girl every Saturday. Fucked, then forgotten. At least this one’s cute.” You tried your best to hide your laugh but you looked at Steve and he wasn’t laughing.

“You have to lighten up! There’s more things in this world than war. Come on, let’s dance.” As you dragged Steve to the dance floor the music slowed.

“Look, I can’t really dance…I. I have two left feet.”

“And I have two right feet. Together we make a pair.” You position your body close to him and wrap his arms around you.

“I don’t bite,” Steve had a funny feeling that you do. As the band played you swayed to the music. Minimal movement on the floor helped Steve in the long run. He wasn’t accustomed to dancing with women, they wouldn’t even look his way. He heard you sigh a couple of times. Not a dissatisfied sigh, but a content sigh. The rise and fall of your chest felt good against him. You felt warm and welcoming. He felt your hands come from around his waist to over his shoulders. During the transition he looked into your honey brown eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve didn’t know what prompted him to say it. He just had to let you know.

You rested your head on his small chest. Your eyes gently closed as you two drifted away from the dance floor. You two were alone when you opened your eyes. The crowd and band were gone completely. The music sounded as if it came from another room. The music ended as you opened your eyes and you could see Steve with a smile.

“See you are a great dancer!”

“I had a great partner.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers x black reader #Chris evans #1940s #bucky barnes #Spotify #Themthereeyes

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sweetdreamsjeff · 9 months

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Liner Notes for Nusart Fateh Ali Khan's "The Supreme Collection Volume 1"

Caroline Records is releasing "The Supreme Collection Volume 1" from Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan & Party on August 26, featuring liner notes written for this collection by Jeff Buckley in 1996.

In his notes, Buckley writes: "The first time I heard the voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan was in Harlem, 1990. My roommate and I stood there, blasting it in his room. We were all awash in the thick undulating tide of dark punjabi tabla rhythms, spiked with synchronized handclaps booming from above and below in hard, perfect time. I heard the clarion call of harmoniums dancing the antique melody around like giant, singing wooden spiders. Then, all of a sudden, the rising of one, then ten voices hovering over the tonic like a flock of geese ascending into formation across the sky. Then came the voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Part Buddha, part demon, part mad angel... his voice is velvet fire, simply incomparable. Nusrat's blending of classical improvisations to the art of Qawwali, combined with his out and out daredevil style and his sensitivity, outs him in a category all his own, above all others in his field.... For the true Qawwali, all meanings of the music exist simultaneously and there is no need of purpose for religious dogma. There is only the pilgrimage to the light within the heart, which is the home of God. There is only a pure devotion and a fierce virtuosity to grow wings and soar through music. To plant a kiss on the eyes of Allah and then sing His loving gaze back into the hearts of Man."

In the wake of Buckley's recent tragic death by drowning, Caroline has dedicated this collection to his memory.

Nusart Fateh Ali Khan's "The Supreme Collection Volume 1"

THE COMPLETE LINER NOTES:

"The first time I heard the voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan was in Harlem, 1990. My roommate and I stood there, blasting it in his room. We were all awash in the thick undulating tide of dark punjabi tabla rhythyms, spiked with synchronized handclaps booming from above and below in hard, perfect time.

I heard the clarion call of harmoniums dancing the antique melody around like giant, singing wooden spiders. Then all of a sudden, the rising of one, then ten voices hovering over the tonic like a flock of geese ascending into formation across the sky.

Then came the voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Part Buddha, part demon, part mad angel...his voice is velvet fire, simply incomparable. Nusrat's blending of classical improvisations to the art of Qawwali, combined with his out and out daredevil style and his sensitivity, outs him in a category all his own, above all others in his field.

His every enunciation went straight into me. I knew not one word of Urdu, and somehow it still hooked me into the story that he weaved with his wordless voice. I remember my senses fully froze in order to feel melody after melody crash upon each other in waves of improvisation; with each line being repeated by the men in the chorus, restated again by the main soloists, and then Nusrat setting the whole bloody thing alflame with his rapid-fire scatting, turning classical Indian Solfeggio (Sa, Re, Gha, Ma, Pa, Dha, Ni) into a chaotic/manic birdsong. The phrase burst into a climax somewhere, with Nusrat's upper register painting a melody that made my heart long to fly. The piece went on for fifteen minutes. I ate my heart out. My roommate just looked at me knowingly, muttering, "Nusrat...Fa-teh...A-li...Khaaan," like he had just scored the wine of the century. I felt a rush of adrenaline in my chest, like I was on the edge of a cliff, wondering when I would jump and how well the ocean would catch me: two questions that would never be answered until I experienced the first leap.

That is the sensation and the character of Qawwali music, the music of the Sufis, as best I can describe it.

In between the world of the flesh and the world of the spirit is the void. The Qawwali is the messenger who leaps empty-handed into the abyss and returns carrying messages of love from the Beloved (Allah). These messages have no words, per se, but at the high point of a Qawwali performance, they come in bursts of light into the hearts and minds of the members of the audience. (Of course, by that time the whole house is either hanging from the rafters, or dancing.) This is called Marifat, the inner knowledge, and it is in the aim of the Qawwali tradition to bring the listener into this state: first through the beauty of the poetry and the weight of its meaning; then, eventually, through the Qawwali's use of repetition; repeating the key phrases of the poem until the meaning has melted away to reveal the true form to the listener. I've seen Nusrat and his party repeatedly melt New Yorkers into human beings. At times I've seen him in such a trance while singing that I am sure that the world does not exist for him any longer. The effect it has is gorgeous. These men do not play music, they are music itself.

The texts from which traditional Qawwals are sung come from the works of the great sufi poets: Bulle Shah (1680-1753), Shams Tabrez (d. 1247), Shah Hussain (1538-1599), and the great Sufi poet and scholar, Amir Khusrav (1253-1325), who was the inventor of Qawwali itself. These texts are devotional, of course, meaning poems of worship for Allah (Hamd) and the prophet Muhammad (N'ati-Sharif). There are also love poems (ghazals), where a more secular romantic interplay is happening between man and woman (which I can dig). The Qawwali's, however, see ghazals as a metaphor between Man and the Divine. They don't care about which meaning was derived from where. In the true Sufi way, through their music, any meaning that is needed by the listener is there for the listener to absorb. For the true Qawwali, all meanings of the music exist simutaneously and there is no need of purpose for religious dogma. There is only the pilgrimage to the light within the heart, which is the home of God. There is only a pure devotion and a fierce virtuosity to grow wings and soar through music. To plant a kiss on the eyes of Allah and then sing His loving gaze back home into the hearts of Man."

Source: Jeff Buckley, New York, 1997

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

#jeff buckley #liner notes to Nusrat's Supreme Collection Vol. 1 #supreme collection vol. 1 #entertainment weekly #ethan smith #liner notes by jeff buckley #1996 #1997

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irregularincidents · 2 years

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While actor/director Orson Welles is mostly known these days for Citizen Kane, his infamous War of the World’s radio play, performing in a Transformers movie, and starting an argument over peas, but what is less well known is his work as a social commentator and activist.

Indeed, while his critique of the wealthy in Citizen Kane got him put on a watch-list by the FBI, Welles had been involved in trying to help diversify theatre since 1936, when he worked with an all African American acting company in an adaptation of MacBeth which managed to both win over Shakespeare purists and local activists in Harlem who suspected that Welles was going help made the production insulting towards the actors and the surrounding community.

And in a 1944 column for Free World he talked about the need for social justice and called for "race hate” to be criminalised. The article itself is interesting, especially considering when it was written, here’s a taste:

Race hate isn’t human nature; race hate is the abandonment of human nature. But this is true: we hate whom we hurt and we mistrust whom we betray. There are minority problems simply because minority races are often wronged. Race hate, distilled from the suspicions of ignorance, takes its welcome from the impotent and the godless, comforting these with hellish parodies of what they’ve lost—arrogance to take the place of price, contempt to occupy the spirit emptied of the love of man. There are alibis for the phenomenon—excuses, economic and social—but the brutal fact is simply this: where the racist lie is acceptable there is corruption. Where there is hate there is shame. The human soul receives race hate only in the sickness of guilt.

The Indian is on our conscience, the Negro is on our conscience, the Chinese and the Mexican-American are on our conscience. The Jew is on the conscience of Europe, but our neglect gives us communion in that guilt, so that there dances even here the lunatic spectre of anti-semitism.

This is deplored; it must be fought, and the fight must be won.

The poll tax is regretted; it must be abolished.

And poll tax thinking must be outlawed. This is a time for action. We know that for some ears even the word “action” has a revolutionary twang, and it won’t surprise us if we’re accused in some quarters of inciting to riot. FREE WORLD is very interested in riots. FREE WORLD is very interested in avoiding them.

We call for action against the cause of riots. Law is the best action, the most decisive. We call for laws, then, prohibiting what moral judgment already counts as lawlessness. American law forbids a man the right to take away anothers right. It must be law that groups of men can’t use the machinery of our Republic to limit the rights of other groups—that the vote, for instance, can’t be used to take away the vote.

Additionally, in his 1945 to 46 radio show Orson Welles Commentaries, he used the opportunity to talk about current events, including protesting the 1946 Bikini Atoll atomic test, speaking out against the dissolution of the Office of Price Administration (a service started during World War Two to control prices and rent), and most prominently, denouncing the 1946 assault on African American WWII veteran Isaac Woodard by some white cops in South Carolina.

Woodard was traveling from South Carolina to Georgia by bus, and hours after being honorably discharged, Batesburg (now Batesburg-Leesville) police chief Lynwood Shull and several over officers beat and blinded Woodard after attempting to rob him of $700 (his military pay), fined him $50, and left his injuries untreated so his family were not able to find him until weeks after the attack due to Woodward loosing his memory in addition to his sight.

Initially the NAACP brought the news of the attack to socially progressive news papers and black press, but the organization's Executive Secretary Walter White and cartoonist Ollie Harrington (recently tasked with building out the NAACP's public relations) wanted the assault to become national news, so they wrote a letter to Orson explaining what’s up.

And, indeed, with an affidavit from Woodward, Welles read an account by the man about the circumstances leading up to his assault, the attach and the resulting aftermath. The NAACP’s plan to bring Woodward’s attack to a wider international audience succeeded, with Welles covering the subject for four episodes in total and explicitly comparing the conduct of Shull and his men to that of the Nazis in the first episode.

"The boy saw him while he could still see, but of course he had no way of knowing what particular policeman it was who brought the justice of Dachau and Oswiecim to Aiken, South Carolina," Welles said in that first broadcast. "He was just another white man with a stick, who wanted to teach a Negro boy a lesson—to show a Negro boy where he belonged: In the darkness."

Naming the policeman Officer X, Welles addressed him directly. "Wash your hands, Officer X. Wash them well. Scrub and scour, you won't blot out the blood of a blinded war veteran," Welles said. "Go on, suckle your anonymous moment while it lasts. You're going to be uncovered. We will blast out your name! We'll give the world your given name, Officer X. Yes, and your so-called Christian name. It's going to rise out of the filthy deep like the dead thing it is."

Welles and the NAACP subsequently worked out the names of the officers responsible, and pressured for Shull and his men to be prosecuted by the Truman administration. And, surprisingly, Harry Truman actually agreed and the racist cops were put on trial for their crime...

...And were found innocent by an all-white jury within 30 minutes. While a pro-segregationist congressman attempted to appeal to J. Edgar Hoover for the FBI to investigate Welles and in his “inflammatory broadcasts“.

The week following the final episode based on Woodard’s case, ABC informed Welles that they were cancelling his show, which would finish airing October 6, 1946.

Despite the lack of success in prosecuting the cops, however, the NAACP had brought enough national attention to the issue of police violence against the African American community to lead Truman establishing the Civil Rights Commission. Additionally, in July 1948 Truman issued two Executive Orders, banning racial discrimination in the military and desegregating the federal government.

Following the trial, Woodard would move to New York City, where he would eventually die in a Veterans Hospital in the Bronx in 1995. Shull would die in his hometown of Batesburg several years later at the age of 95, having faced no legal consequences for his actions.

#irregular incidents #history #radio #cw: racism #cw: police brutality #american history

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randomvarious · 8 months

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Today's compilation:

Echoes Down the Hall: 16 Original Doo-Wop Classics 1989 Doo Wop / R&B / Soul

Folks, this is probably one of the greatest doo wop comps that I've ever come across in my entire life. Back in 1989, the Arista label put together this little collection of tunes that mostly originated from a pair of different record companies in New York's Greenwich Village: Ember and Herald, both run by a guy named Al Silver.

Now, the most famous song to ever come out of either of those labels was undoubtedly 1960's "Stay," by Maurice Williams & the Zodiacs, which features group member Henry Gaston's sudden and iconically *glorious* falsetto (🎶Ohh, won't you staaaaay, just a little bit longerr?🎶). And for a fun bit of trivia, that tune also happens to hold the honor of being the shortest song to ever reach #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, clocking in at just a mere 100 seconds.

But as this CD plainly shows, there was a lot more greatness to both Ember and Herald than just "Stay." You can find superb examples of a dynamic vocal doo wop group sound all throughout this release, whether it be slowly swaying, lovey-dovey, Makeout Point ballads, like The Five Satins' "In the Still of the Night (I'll Remember)"—which was given some new life a few years ago thanks to its inclusion in Martin Scorsese's The Irishman—or the more upbeat and uptempo stuff that really loved to utilize those onomatopoeiac vocal basslines, as heard in electric tunes like The Silhouettes' "Get a Job" and The Nutmegs' "Comin' Home." And then there's also a group from Philadelphia on here called The Turbans...who actually wore turbans...that supply a couple other excellent numbers in "Sister Sooky" and "When You Dance," which both go on these terrific, sax-laced R&B detours.

But not *all* of this release is actually made up of Herald and Ember material. A quintet from Harlem called The Channels appear with "The Closer You Are," a song that never managed to chart nationally, but, in hindsight, is often recognized as one of the greatest doo wop ballads that's ever been recorded. It was released in 1956 on a small Manhattan label called Whirlin Disc.

And in a genre that was largely dominated by men, Gladys Knight shines extra brightly on here as well. She and the Pips provide two tracks, but Knight manages to *really* flex her vibrato in an extremely satisfying way on "Every Beat of My Heart," which was released in 1961 on Chicago's Vee-Jay label.

So, if you want a fully functioning music collection that manages to span a whole bunch of decades, you'd do well to look here for some of those mid-50s-to-early 60s golden doo wop oldies. And fortunately for you, this whole album's up on Spotify and YouTube!

Highlights:

The Nutmegs - "Story Untold" The Five Satins - "In the Still of the Night (I'll Remember)" The Channels - "The Closer You Are" The Mello-Kings - "Tonite, Tonite" The Turbans - "Sister Sooky" Gladys Knight & the Pips - "Every Beat of My Heart" The Turbans - "When You Dance" The Silhouettes - "Get a Job" Maurice Williams & the Zodiacs - "Stay" The Nutmegs - "The Ship of Love" The Nutmegs - "Comin' Home"

#doo wop #r&b #r & b #soul #soul music #oldies #music #50s #50s music #50's #50's music

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ausetkmt · 11 months

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There are so many well-executed music videos that are considered timeless. From the greats of Aaliyah to DMX, these artists have never fallen short to deliver out-of-the-box visuals.

Here are some of the music videos that we think are most memorable!

Tell us what’s your favorite memorable music video!

Like TV One on Facebook and be sure to follow us on Instagram and Twitter.

1. “The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)” by Missy Elliott

From the iconic garbage suit, to the fish eye view Missy Elliott’s “The Rain” music video will forever go down in history as one of the most memorable music videos of all time!

2. “On and On” by Erykah Badu

The moment was far more than just a very loose interpretation of (or homage to) the film The Color Purple; it marked the start of Erykah Badu’s tyrannical rule over all neo-soul performers for the ensuing ten years.

3. “Remember the Time” by Michael Jackson

“Remember the Time” isn’t just a music video, this was a short film with a lot cameos of several heavy-hitters in the entertainment industry, such as Eddie Murphy, Iman, Tommy “Tiny” Lister and Magic Johnson.

Michael Jackson was master of giving fans top-notch visuals as he extracted a genius story plot, dance numbers, theatrics, and etc. from a 4 minute song.

It’s truly a testament to how talented of a performer

4. “No Scrubs” by TLC

After seeing TLC’s “No Scrubs” video, we all wanted to live in the famous future space station!

5. “What’s My Name?” by DMX

If you ever wanted to get hyped up while watching a hip-hop music video, “What’s My Name” by DMX will surely get you riled up!

6. “Try Again” by Aaliyah

The late Aaliyah really became a futuristic pop star when “Try Again” was released.

From the video’s setting of a hall of mirrors, and a room with a shallow pool to Romeo Must Die star, Jet-Li cameo and Timbaland’s adlibs, and Aaliyah’s signature look this music video captured millions and further pushed Aaliyah into stardom.

7. “Pass The Courvoisier Part II” by Busta Rhymes

Rapper Busta Ryhmes is known to have out-of-the-box music video concepts and “Pass the Courvoisier Part II” is one of the most memorable music videos of the early 2000s.

This music video will go down in music video history due to Mr. T, Spliff Star, Mo’Nique, Kym Whitley, and Jamie Foxx made cameo appearances in the video, which was influenced by the glorious films, Harlem Nights and Rush Hour 2.

8. “Doo Wop (That Thing)” by Lauryn Hill

The music video of “Doo-Wop” by Lauryn Hill will forever live in our hearts.

We can’t get enough of the concept of showing two different generations of men and women, to the singer’s message: “Don’t be a hard rock when you really are a gem!”

9. “All I Need” by Method Man ft. Mary J. Blige

If you’re a hip-hop fan doesn’t matter where you are, you’ll always sing and dance to “All I Need” by Method Man ft. Mary J. Blige!

It is a classic 90s bop!

10. “Roses” by Outkast

Words can’t describe how we feel about Outkast’s “Roses” music video.

From it’s clever references to West Side Story and Grease we get to see how Andre 3000 and Big Boi come together and create this amazing visual for their double-album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below.

Were you a Speakerboxxx or a Love Below fan?

#Most Memorable Music Videos of All Time | Celebrating Black Music Month #Black Music Month

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atomic-insomnia · 1 year

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15 Interview Questions (for Amelia)

thanks for tagging me, @dotr-rose-love!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Eh, not directly. My mother thought it sounded “queenly;” same with my sister Matilda’s name. She was very concerned about that, my mother, sounding royal. You should’ve heard the airs she could put on.

2. When was the last time you cried?

*sarcastic grin* I’m not much for weepers or sob stories. It’d smear my mascara.

[Probably not since she was a kid or at least a young teenager; keeping her emotions hidden is one thing she considers deeply important. It’s partially to protect herself from being vulnerable, but at this point in her life she’s just made it a habit and struggles to honestly open up about anything.]

3. Do you have kids?

Oh Jesus Christ, I hope not! Haha!

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Noo, never.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

The shiny bits. *snort* No, if I’m being honest, I look for their general mood--like, is this someone who’s open to a conversation? Are they trying to go unnoticed? Do they seem the type to fly off the handle?

Now, what I do with that information, that all depends on the situation at hand.

6. What’s your eye color?

Nothin’ special, just...brown. Same old same old.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Hm...I’d say the two should go together. The happy ending’s worth nothing if you don’t get your thrills & chills leading up to it, and why put up with the scares if you don’t get a happy ending?

...But that’s what movies are for. Real life usually doesn’t play by those rules.

8. Any special talents?

Any sort of special talent you wish, darling. One look at you, and *snaps fingers* I can tell you all your most hidden secrets, your dreams, your desires--and your future. For a fee, of course. *wink*

[Probably her most useful talents are reading people--which is what all that ‘psychic’/’i can see your dreams’ nonsense really is--and adaptability. Find an unpredictable situation, then figure out a plan so you can say “mmm, just as I predicted, the Spirits were right”]

9. Where were you born?

Good Ol’ Harlem, New York New York. Nothing much to say here that hasn’t been said before by wordier people than me. There’s a lot for the newspapers to get rich suckers crying and wringing their hands about “the plight of the poor.” But there’s more than that. Sometimes I see people say the reason we’ve got so many artists is because art needs suffering--but that also means we’ve got people willing to turn suffering into art. Doesn’t it?

...Whoops, got off topic. Ignore me, haha, I must love to hear the sound of my own voice.

10. What are your hobbies?

I’m out every every night I can be, looking for someplace new to dance! If I really need a quiet night, I go to the moving pictures or a vaudeville theater for a few acts. Usually I only want action, but lately I’ve needed a break more and more often...

11. Have you any pets?

He prefers to be called an “assistant.”

[From across the room: “I heard that.”]

No, but I’ve never been one for animals in the house. ...That, and I can barely keep myself fed, I don’t want to be the one keeping something else alive.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I’ve played baseball, by which I mean, I’ve swung a stick at a rubber ball and run around the pieces of cardboard we plopped down on the street for ‘bases.’ That was when I was a kid, way back when. Nowadays I only pay attention to sports to keep up with the betting odds.

13. How tall are you?

...Tall enough. What’s it to you?

[Somewhat of a sensitive subject as she’s usually as tall as or taller than most of the men around her]

14. Favorite subject in school?

Oh, easy! Arithmetic. I know, I don’t look the type. Of course, I got a lot more use of it outside of school--betting odds for the local race track, trade value of chewing gum vs. rouge powder...my teacher always told me the only value math had for a woman was budgeting household expenses. My household is a party of two and we both take care of ourselves, so I guess that means my teacher wasted her time, hm? I’m not bitter--genuinely, I’m not--I just can’t imagine wanting a life where you end up as either a repressed housewife, or a schoolmarm who’s jealous of the future repressed housewives in your class.

15. Dream job?

To not have to work, haha. Oh, I’d find a way to keep busy and fill my days--could you imagine spending all day lounging on a beach somewhere? They act like it’s a dream--yeah, because you’d fall asleep soon enough. No, but, look at what the ritzy set gets up to with all their money and free time--parties, vacations, and all the drama of who’s sleeping with who’s wife! Maybe instead of being one of them, I’d rather be the reporter selling them out to the tabloids.

Oh, I’m kidding. I just want the free champagne.

I’ll leave an open tag for anyone who wants to fill out these questions for their OCs!

#oc tag #oc amelia #beg borrow or steal

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twiststreet · 2 years

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Eisners 2022!

Best short story in a comic book you will never hold in your hands your entire life, you will never see a copy on the shelf, we hid one copy somewhere in America, whoever finds it will be shot immediately in the back of the head if they try to pick it up, good luck Runners.

Best single issue must be able to stand alone. When the rains fall, when the winds howl, the best single issue must be able to stand alone. Just remember what the best single issue does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake-- it just looks that big old storm right square in the eye and says ‘Give me your best shot, pal, I can take it.’

Best Continuing Series: a fantasy celebration of the 1920′s Harlem Renaissance, a period of African American excellence in “music, dance, art, fashion, literature, theater, politics and scholarship” which famously established in the arts such towering figures as Langston Hughes or Zora Neale Hurston. That could win, or The Hulk. Either one.

Best Limited Series. I don’t think we’re supposed to use the word “limited” anymore. I don’t think that word’s okay. I mean, it’s okay for that community to say it. But not for the rest of us-- not for the oppressor.

Best New Series, by men 34-51 years of age. The men may not be new to this Earth, and may be fast hurtling towards the grave, but they made some drawings on paper, and I guess those are new. Mazel tov!

Best Publication for Early Readers: Did you ever wonder how Brad Meltzer would follow-up his comics about superheroes raping each other? He followed it up with telling small, defenseless children about Oprah. Here’s a photo of the cover.

Best Publication for Kids: Were you a kid, but not an early reader? A dimwitted child who took longer than your peers to be able to even so much as comprehend a comic book...? Well, here’s an award for what little you were able to read, Bluto, you dumbass.

Best Publication for Teens: For the 27th consecutive year, the front-runner is “some porno they found in the woods.”

Best Humor Publication: “The Scumbag, by Rick Remender and various.” Wasn’t “Various” a big fan of Kyle Rittenhouse who murdered two people attending a civil rights protest? Funny stuff. Sounds hilarious. I love to laugh.

Best Anthology: An exploration of China’s one-child policy and how it effected families for the “10 million couples who lost that only child”, illustrated by Chinese artists who have lived under the policy. That or a Superman comic. It’s neck and neck.

Best Reality-Based Work: “The Strange Death of Alex Raymond, by Dave Sim and Carson Grubaugh.” Yeah, when I think “Dave Sim”, the first words that go through my head are “Reality-Based.” Giving an award to Dave Sim with the word “reality” in the title is kind of like ... another thing that’s ludicrously silly that someone who has the energy to think up a punchline to this sentence could think of.

Best Graphic Memoir: Nate Powell is competing against Nate Powell. But strangely, this year’s “Special Achievement in Being Nate Powell” is going to Black Lightning creator Tony Isabella. Make it make sense! Either way, congratulations, Mr. Isabella. Better luck next year, Nate Powell.

Best Graphic Album -- New, that is written by Ethan Hawke, who let’s face it, needs a win.

Best Graphic Album -- Reprint: I’d make a joke that made something resembling coherent sense, but I’m afraid that’d violently offend fans happy about the nomination for “The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California Deluxe Edition, by Gerard Way, Shaun Simon, and Becky Cloonan.”

Best Adaptation from Another Medium: All life on land adapted from the ocean, but the Eisners are too snobby to give that its due, I guess. It’s the snobbery in comics that depresses me the most.

Best US Edition of International Material: 誰も気にしない？とにかく私たちは皆死ぬつもりです。

Best U.S. Edition of International Material—Asia: The winner gets the same Eisner glory as past Eisner winners like so-and-so and some-guy. The loser will have to settle for being widely read by young people all over the world, and having their work adapted into multimedia spinoffs experienced by millions. The stakes have never been higher.

Best Archival Collection / Project-- Strips (at least 20 years old) and Best Archival Collection / Project-- Comic Books (at least 20 years old) : I guess fans of fancypants archival collections / projects don’t appreciate my interest in things being “barely legal” and think “I should be ashamed of myself.” Well, we’ll see who’s laughing when I still seem tolerable thanks to rapidly declining standards in American masculinity!!!!

Best Writer, Best Writer/Artist, Best Penciller/Inker or Penciller/Inker Team, Best Painter/Multimedia Artist (interior art), Best Cover Artist, Best Coloring, and Best Lettering: Congratulations to everyone who cares who was nominated for these awards, and is excited about the nominations, which is to say, the parents of the people nominated. Also, congratulations to the one person out there isn’t one of the parents of the people nominated, but cares about who was nominated anyways-- society may judge you, because of the weird phone messages you keep leaving on the answering machine of the local sorority house, no one can figure out what’s being said in those messages, they’re funny at first but then they just get increasingly off-putting especially as some of the girls at the sorority house seem to have gone missing, but still, a thrilling day for one and all.

Best Comics-Related Periodical/Journalism, Best Comics-Related Book, Best Academic/Scholarly Work, Best Publication Design, Best Webcomic, and Best Digital Comic: Look, I know what you’re thinking-- “should this very prestigious tumblr blog have been nominated for each and every one of those awards?” And I’ll be honest with you, the answer is Yes. Even though it’s not technically a “book” or a “webcomic” or “enjoyable”? Yes. Even though a lonely man shouting impotently into the dark gets kind of depressing to think about if you contemplate it for too long? Yes, yes, and yes.

But look, I know how the game is played. It’s a lot of politics. It’s a lot of whose ass was I willing to kiss. It’s a lot of whose ass was I willing to do more than kiss. It’s a lot of “please stop asking if we want our asses eaten if we nominate your stupid blog, your blog isn’t a digital comic, whatever that is, I don’t think anyone really knows, either way we’re trying to order bagels” getting yelled at me by Eisner judges.

But ultimately, it’s also a lot of me taking all of the credit if TCJ.com wins, even though I have not written for that site in several years, and people did NOT like it when I did, they were UNhappy, it went very badly. But it’s also blaming other people if TCJ.com loses, and denying I ever heard of that site before. Either way, I live in a state of triumph! So, in that respect, I have won something more valuable than an Eisner Award. Which isn’t a hard thing to win. I mean, you could do that at a carnival. But nevertheless-- congratulations to me!!! And congratulations to you, for being in proximity to me! We’re all going to get laid!

#Worst Hobby or Worstest Hobby?

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