Chamblee54

This is a repost from 2015. There is a tasteful video on the innertubes today, WTF is Cultural Appropriation. This is not about WTF Podcast. Hopefully Marc Maron will not wear his hair in dreadlocks. The video shows a black man, jumping around in front of the camera, sharing his ideas about cultural appropriation.
Perhaps we should summarize what ‏@the1janitor has to say. He does not give a shit what people do with their hair. (Does he gift wrap the shit when he does give it?) T1J is not concerned over whether Iggy Azalea sings rap songs. Most culture today is a mix of influences, and T1J is cool with that. This chill does not extend to a pro football team in Hyattsville MD, whose nickname rhymes with munchkins. T1J, aka Kevin Peterson, does not think that is appropriate.
T1J wears dreadlocks. Many Amerikans see this hairstyle as connected to the Rastafarians in Jamaica. T1J is not a rasta, but is not accused of any appropriative wrongdoing by wearing his hair in dreadlocks. It seems the reason for this acceptance is his African American origin.
This is similar to the situation with BHO. The half white POTUS was raised by white people in Hawaii and Indonesia. And yet, because he has dark skin, BHO is unquestioningly accepted as a black man. The POTUS uses the style of black culture that he learned as an adult. When a white fool shoots up a black church, BHO goes to a funeral, sings “Amazing Grace,” and is praised.
Many of these cultural and racial debates are very shallow. Judgements are made on outside appearances, rather than the real person under the skin. The dream of people not “judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character” has turned into a nightmare of petty wrangling over white privilege and cultural appropriation.
So much for content. What caught PG’s eye was the background. There is a Crimson Tide poster on the wall, behind the speaker, that seemed familiar. PG has seen T1J before, in a video titled Why I Disagree With Morgan Freeman. T1J says we need to talk about racism, then talk some more, and then talk more after that. The word listen is not used as often.
The University of Alabama football team poster is an ironic touch. NCAA football teams are highly exploitative of young people. The young men who play work long hours for their education. Many of the football players are rushed through school, taking easy classes so they will be eligible to play. Many of these young men will suffer crippling injuries playing a contact sport. Meanwhile, these football programs are hugely profitable for the institution, especially at a football factory like the University of Alabama. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. The men in the seven photographs below were members of The Tuskegee Airmen

Part Two of the 2020 chamblee54 report on The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is here. Part one is there. Pictures for this affair are from The Library of Congress.
In Gertrude’s experience lovemaking was always bittersweet, or at least it had been until one fateful night when Chaz, the seductive man behind the concession stand blessed her with the salty-sweet bliss reminiscent of both true romance and quality kettle corn.
Julie Winspear, Washington, D.C.
Gasping for breath as she lay in the dew-laden lakeside grass, Rifka Lieberman’s chest heaved with rising passion as Saul Cohen approached with the inhaler she had left behind at the assisted living facility. Leo Gordon, Los Angeles, CA
Farmer Bob, unlucky in love and life in general, received yet another Dear John letter, this time from Bubbles Magaggaggey, the last blind woman in town, so here he was, alone and penniless; so penniless, in fact, that he neglected to make the payments on his tractor and soon received a John Deere letter, coincidentally from Bubbles, who ran the Tractor Emporium.
DJ Hicks, Jr., Manchester, NJ
The quantum flux field of the post-Einsteinian hyperdrive has gone asymptotically and we are in danger of approaching singularity as described by the Schrodinger equations!” cried Captain Quirke, having no clue what he said, only knowing it sounded sciencey, secretly crossing his fingers behind his back and hoping there were no physicists reading because he didn’t want any pedantic letters saying it was nonsense. Sue Doenim, England
As the angry mob of poets filled the National Mall, a group of sonneteers and ballad-mongers surged toward the Capitol Building, but it wasn’t until the Japanese poem enthusiasts stormed the White House that I realized this was a genuine haiku d’etat. Bart King, Portland, OR
As sheriff, I had handled most of the Dwarf gang, having shot Sleepy, Bashful and Sneezy, strung up Grumpy and Dopey and disemboweled Happy, but Doc, since you got away, I’m sending Happy’s entrails to you, until we meet again. Arlen Feldman, Colorado Springs, CO
As Professor Quinter surveyed his students, his gaze was drawn to their scrappy sets of cookware and their bemused faces staring stupidly at the history professor’s presentation on Carthage, and with a sigh, Quinter realized that the students had misread the day’s agenda, which was “Hannibal Lecture. Savannah Carmichael, St. Charles, MO
She swept into the ballroom, expensively dressed, coiffed, and bejeweled, her opulent display most obviously done for the same reason that a baboon has a red butt, both saying, “Pay attention to me!” Jack Ciotti, The Villages, FL
“Dilly, Dilly,” Nelda sobbed, “Tell me you still care, Dilly,” as his blood spurted rhythmically onto her freshly-starched, pink pinafore—the one given to her on her 16th birthday by her maternal grandmother, Nana Gertrude, the one she had worn the previous Sunday to the witch dunking, the one she swore never to stain— which was now permanently stained, but she mused that it didn’t matter since it was in the same color family. Pat DuVal, Arlington, VA
Her breasts heaving like the 50-pound sacks of grain thrown over the shoulders of sweaty dock workers, Karen stepped up to the counter and demanded to see the manager, as only a Karen would. John W. Engle III, Houston, TX
Having lost part of her left ear while working in a circus knife-throwing act during the summer between her junior and senior years, Karen felt all the more reassured about her decision to major in statistics, but she couldn’t help but to ponder the probability of regaining physical symmetry were she to return to the circus for one more summer after she graduated. Steve Cormier, Slatington, PA

The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest has announced the results of the 2020 competition. Every year, B-LFC solicits opening sentences for bad novels. The “winners” of this competition receive heartfelt condolences from all concerned. Chamblee54 uses B-LFC as an excuse for text to go between pictures every year, like this. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. There is a possibility of milking two posts out of this thing, in which case a link will be presented here.
As a “value added service,” chamblee54 compiles a list of noteworthy author names and locations. This years notables: Lisa Kluber, San Francisco, CA, DJ Hicks, Jr, Manchester, NJ, Jarrett Dement, Eau Claire, WI, Pete Zenz, Middleton, WI, Gideon Gordon, Boston, MA, Edward Covolo, Menlo Park, CA, Candy Mosely, Hydro, OK, Connie Kleinjans, Honolulu, HI, Sue Doenim, England, Gregory Feeley, Hamden, CT, Amy Torchinsky, Chapel Hill, NC, Jack Ciotti, The Villages, FL.
One of the contestants is from Georgia. Before the beginning God leaned forward from the Empyrean Throne and gazed at the heaps of OED fascicles littered in layers across the cloudy carpet, still uncertain just which Word was the perfect one with which to begin and seriously annoyed that She had decided to do the whole damn thing in English . . . Art Feenan, Kennesaw, GA
2020 Grand Prize Her Dear John missive flapped unambiguously in the windy breeze, hanging like a pizza menu on the doorknob of my mind. Lisa Kluber, San Francisco, CA
Sally loved Geoff so deeply that if he were a pirate on a dread pirate ship (and not an insurance adjuster), snarling and drinking, murdering and raping his way across the Caribbean (well, maybe not raping, it was the sentiment that counted) and he had a peg leg, she would have gladly sawed her own leg off and sewed it to his stump with silken threads, so he could dance again, holding her up since she was now a sudden amputee. David Lourne, Waterloo, Ontario, Canada
None of us, not a single jack-tar of the ten poor souls consigned to the only surviving None lifeboat from our torpedoed freighter, the “S.S. Walter Jacob,” the noblest vessel that ever hauled the weapons of war across the Seven Seas and back again, had a nickel’s worth of life insurance.
John Hardi, Falls Church, VA
As the large wild turkey soared over him, propelled by the twin blasts from David’s shotgun, Michael gazed up at the cornbread-colored sky and thought, “What a blessed day to be a Christian!” Ed Buhrer, Louisa, VA
As Charlotte meticulously finished her egg sac on the lonely rafter at the county fairgrounds, she thought about the future day when her children would burrow into Wilbur’s flesh to consume him from the inside-out, and hummed her favorite song about the wheel of life rolling on.
Robert Greer, Gilbert, AZ
Dorothy and Toto got kicked out of Kansas just before that group had several hits back in the day but at least Toto achieved some success with his band, while poor Dorothy, penniless and insane, lived under a bridge, prostituting herself and screaming about rainbows.
DJ Hicks, Jr, Manchester, NJ
When she walked into my office on that bleak December day, she was like a breath of fresh air in a coal mine; she made my canary sing. Yale Abrams, Santa Rosa, CA
She sauntered into his smoke-filled office with legs that, although they didn’t go quite all the way to heaven, definitely went high enough for him to see that she was a giraffe.
Jarrett Dement, Eau Claire, WI
The Bulgars (Bulgaris), a 17th century semi-nomadic Turkic tribe, are often unfairly compared to the Vulgars, who invented the leather bikini in honor of Princess Urskika from Pacific Palisades.
John Holmes, St. Petersburg, FL