May to June. June to July. July to August. In the 14 weeks since George Floyd was murdered by sworn members of the Minneapolis Police Department and the sickness and unrest which has permeated our nation unlike we've seen in 40 years, but which has been present for 400...we have seen little change. 14 weeks since we started watching the privileged ebb and flow with their advocacy. After hearing names like Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and reminding people of the names Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile, even going back to Emmitt Till...all fallen at the hands of oppression, of racism, of the police.
Just over a week since the violent shooting of an unarmed black man, Jacob Blake (are you starting to get more frustrated? The list of names keeps horribly growing. ) more violence, more denouncements, and finally we get what we imagined *could* happen but helplessly learned *did* happen. Just before midnight barely a week ago- A seventeen year old kid hopped state lines clutching a rifle and thought himself a patriot before ending the night a murderer of two young men.
I want you to think about that. I feel like I can think of little else with how absolutely terrifying this Summer has felt. A high school kid. I want you to think about what fed that kid's mind into thinking what they were doing was patriotic, heroic, or justifiable. When *I* was 17, people would have blamed video games (kind of. The graphics really sucked, even for SNES.) or music. (Which, was really more of an indictment of the shit we're going through right the natural fuck now. Stories by BIPOC voices which scared Caucasian's into the terrifying need to stifle artistic black voices)
Someone gave that fucking child the okay to do what he did. And there are some terrible, terrifying people who don't think "Kid, you're in a lot of fucking trouble right now"...some of those were the cops who ignored the kid with the rifle running down the street or gave him water. Some of those are white racist people who think they got what they deserved. Or maybe even the absolute fuck head dicknose police chief who advocates violence as a means of enforcing curfew.
And one of those people is the President of the United States. Friends...
There are 74 days as of today until election day. Today I'm not feeling the grace I should, and wanted to let you know that I do care about who you vote for and, today, hope I can change your mind. I don't care if you supported Senator Sanders and are still angry and feeling the need to really come to grips with it. I don't care. I don't. I 100% don't. I think you have a lot of absolute privilege to be able to stew over something like that, and if you can't shake free the yoke of your obsession and disappointment, well apparently you have better meds than I do because we have lived through FOUR FUCKING YEARS OF "NOT NORMAL".
We weren't going to normalize this shit. We weren't supposed to. And I am doneski and hutch with living in the past of what's the worst that can happen when the worst happens every day. And literally, if you are a white living human of voting age who has not sucked the single-issue teats I read about conservative voters clutching to like an imaginary winning lottery ticket that's actually an expired Cracker Barrel coupon...you have zero fucking reason to *not* excise yourself from the tumor which has, besides ALL of the OTHER AWFUL SHIT has now given a high fucking five to a murderer.
I don't care. You're letting this shit get out of hand and it would only get immensely worst- so don't be a shit who can't find it in your widdle hear and just...help us. Help us bail the fucking water out. At least get us to the shallows where we can touch with our tippy toes. We'll still have a TON of fucking work to do. But at least it won't be with a sadistic racist having a laugh at the expense of Black Lives and innocent lives.
Lastly- This page could/has been once a place I could geek out and be myself. While I still can and do from time to time, the loss of Chadwick Boseman has affected our family in a way that cannot be measured. Would we/were we in any other time, I would go on about the importance of representation in cinema, even genre cinema- talking about misfires ("Spawn") and THE TRUE MOTHERFUCKING PROGENITOR of the MCU- "Blade" (1998. Matrix, whatever, you name it....Owes a debt to "Blade")
I'd go on to talk about an actor who was older than I thought, who had a smaller career than most (even those some of us may remember who were much younger who we lost in the arts and music)...I would talk about the films I've seen, how he was a choice and a fierce presence before I'd invariably lose myself in geekery talking about "BP", the relation to the who MCU, the casting search, the appearance in "Civil War" (IRONIC TITLE!) which...would have been amazing. He, as an actor, won a lottery getting into the Marvel world. He'd have been cast and filmed in 2015- before he'd have been diagnosed with cancer. And yet he kept going and he kept it secret. A dignity, and integrity...so that he could continue working and creating, to speak to people, to advocate...he worked with a handicap. He did it all while being eaten from the inside. And none of us knew.
It's not an industry that lends itself to secrecy all that often, especially when stars ANNOUNCE things and want SUPPORT. Boseman kept moving forward until the end. Like a hero and a king. An example of strength, power, and fortitude young people of color could look up to. It's a shock and with untold sadness we lost him so soon. And to leave you on a different note, I feel like the Wakanda Forever salute has sort of become ingrained so we all (Panther fans, anyway) know what it means. I realized I took for granted the action as "just something really amazing and detailed" the creators came up with. So I did some pocket research and, after re-watching it last night mentioned to my wife there's a strength and almost "hug-like" comfort to the action which, later, was cool to know I wasn't far off.
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