Black girls always been at forefront of rock n’ roll and punk. to all the black girls out here I hope this inspires you. NOTE This is alot of bands but its not every band. got any Suggestions send them to us at our email firstname.lastname@example.org or on facebook …
In last night’s episode of “Parks & Recreation,” Leslie Nope (Poehler) and her colleagues at the Pawnee, IN, Parks and Recreation Dept.were visited by officials from their sister city in Venezuela. Introducing herself to the lead official (played by “Saturday Night Live’s” Fred Armisen), Nope expresses that her job is to see her visitor’s “every need.” Of course, the officials take this to mean she will procure women for their sexual pleasure. (Yeah, that one’s never been done before.) One replies, “Do we just select the woman we desire? I will take the large, black one.” To which Nope’s sidekick mumbles, “Interesting choice.” Armisen’s character intones, “Do you have some kind of book with photos of the women that are available to us? If not, I too will take the sexy, black one.” The “large, black one” herself says, in a talk-to-the-camera shot: “I am not surprised at all. I’ve been to South America. I did very well there.” This joke plays through the show and in the end we see the black woman has returned to Venezuela with the officials and is sipping a drink beside a pool in a floral muu-muu thing.
See, the gag was funny because someone–those wacky foreigners–found a large, black woman attractive when there were clearly skinny, white ladies around to choose from. Woooo! Wipes tears from eyes. That’s a knee-slapper! How absurd! I mean to think that anyone would find a fat woman…a fat, BLACK woman sexually attractive. That is the message behind the joke. What else could the message be? If the official had chosen Amy Poehler’s character as the object of lust, would that have solicited an “Interesting choice” comment?What do you think?
also can we talk about how the punk aesthetic is totally inaccessible to fat folks because it’s predicated on having a body that isn’t inherently devalued and that’s why people then are able to demarcate themselves as poor/apathetic/dirty in their dress because people aren’t already scripting…
women are literally raised to be subordinate and malnourished and live in fear of murder and rape so no i am not going to feel bad for men having to live up to masculinity which were set in place by men to, again, keep women subordinate
you are literally complaining about having the better end of the stick and it makes me sick to my stomach you can choke on your spoon
“Society, however, does not see all fat as being equal. A man can be much, much fatter than a woman and still be viewed as comfortably within the standard deviation; most department stores carry men’s pants up to a size 42, which is the rough equivalent of a women’s size 24—a size that a woman would have to visit a specialty big-girl store or “Women’s” department to find. Men are comfortable on beaches with their beach-ball bellies hanging over their swimsuit waistbands, bronzing their fat in the sun, whereas my fat women friends struggle to find swimwear that does not feature a skirt.
So me, I’m transgendered. It means that the gender I present in the world is not congruent with the sex that I was assigned at birth; in practical terms, I mostly look like a man but have a body that some would consider physiologically female. Even though I don’t identify as a man (I am a butch, which is its own gender), I am taken for a man about two-thirds of the time. And when I am taken for a man, I am not fat.
As a man, I’m a big dude, but not outside the norm for such things. I am just barely fat enough to shop at what I call The Big Fat Tall Guy Store, and can sometimes find my size in your usual boy-upholstery emporia. Major clothing labels, like Levi Strauss, make nice things in my size, and I am never forced to wear anything that appears to have been manufactured at Mendel the Tentmaker’s House o’ Fashion. (Although those things do exist for men, too. Those terrycloth shirts with the waistbands? Oy.) I can order extra salad dressing or ice cream or anything else in a restaurant and have it arrive without comment; I can eat it in public without anyone taking a bit of notice, even if I am shoving it into my mouth while walking down a crowded street and getting crumbs all over my chest in the process. I can run for a bus or train without anyone making a snide remark.
As a big guy, I’m big enough to make miscreants or troublemakers decide to take their hostility elsewhere. As a woman, I am revolting. I am not only unattractively mannish but also grossly fat. The clothes I can fit into at the local big-girl stores tend to fit around the neck and then get bigger as they go downward, which results in a festive butch-in-a-bag look—all the rage nowhere, ever. No matter how clearly I order a Coke in a restaurant I must be on a diet, and so I get a Diet Coke—usually with a lemon floating in it accusatorily, looking up at me as if to say, “This is as good as it’s going to get, lardass.” Wait staff develop selective amnesia about my side of fries or my request for butter, and G-d help me if I get caught eating (or even shopping) in public as a woman.”—S. Bear Bergman, “Part-Time Fatso” (via wretchedoftheearth)