Apr. 2nd, 2017

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Small village thinks illicit whiskey stills are its biggest problem until raiders show up and trash their everything. Death, destruction, etc. Raiders find whiskey still, get lit, pass out. Villagers murder them. Peace restored. Whiskey is king.

Shepherd lad spots fair maid skinny-dipping. Fair maid pleads for her virtue and/or clothing. Shepherd lad is complete gentleman, escorts her home with clothing and virtue intact. Fair maid demands to know what she has to do to get laid around here.

Plucky heroine’s boyfriend goes to sea, fails to return. Plucky heroine dresses in drag and goes to find him. Plucky heroine discovers boyfriend happily married to someone else. Plucky heroine shoots his head right off.

Do Not Stop By The Local Weaver’s House, You Will Get So Pregnant, Like, Super Pregnant, I’m Not Kidding, This Has Been A Public Service Announcement.

Wealthy farmwife habitually searches her maidservants’ dorm for SIGNS OF MEN out of concern for their virtue. Maids less concerned for their virtue are having None Of It. Maids hide scarecrow in dorm, farm mistakes scarecrow for prowler, farmwife decapitates scarecrow. Farmwife believes herself a murderer. Maids now permitted to do as they please, virtue-wise. 

Idiot son sent to market to sell cow. Scheming lass seduces idiot son out of cow, pants, and even shoes.

Dad returns from business trip to find daughter Super Pregnant, demands to meet the man responsible. Dad takes one look at man responsible and tells daughter “okay, you’re off the hook, I would have banged him too.”

Handsome stranger bribes fair maid to leave town with him. Fair maid rejects various bribes until handsome stranger flat-out offers her money, which she accepts. Handsome stranger turns out to be, to no one’s great surprise, the actual devil. Fair maid regrets her life choices.

Gallant knight goes forth to slay dragon. Dragon eats knight, but has indigestion.

Consider me on my knees, pleading for a list of song titles. Please? It would make my mother happy, too.
ladyshadowdrake: (Default)
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@windcalling - here’s the list of songs I was referencing! You’re about to learn which artists are my favorite.

Whiskey and murder (*not my favorite version of the song but)

Skinnydipping with intention

Love, loss, crossdressing, and murder

Local weaver impregnates, like, everyone

Farmwife decapitates scarecrow

How to lose a cow in ten days

Good taste in baby-daddies

Don’t date the devil

Dragon has indigestion


@vaspider in case you were as curious as I was.

@besina @lightshadowverisimilitude
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But the real reason I had to chime in was that Steve Rogers is my favorite superhero. Why? Because unlike other patriotism-themed characters, Steve Rogers doesn’t represent a genericized America but rather a very specific time and place – 1930’s New York City. We know he was born July 4, 1920 (not kidding about the 4th of July) to a working-class family of Irish Catholic immigrants who lived in New York’s Lower East Side.[1] This biographical detail has political meaning: given the era he was born in and his class and religious/ethnic background, there is no way in hell Steve Rogers didn’t grow up as a Democrat, and a New Deal Democrat at that, complete with a picture of FDR on the wall.

Steve Rogers grew up poor in the Great Depression, the son of a single mother who insisted he stayed in school despite the trend of the time (his father died when he was a child; in some versions, his father is a brave WWI veteran, in others an alcoholic, either or both of which would be appropriate given what happened to WWI veterans in the Great Depression) and then orphaned in his late teens when his mother died of TB.[2] And he came of age in New York City at a time when the New Deal was in full swing, Fiorello LaGuardia was mayor, the American Labor Party was a major force in city politics, labor unions were on the move, the Abraham Lincoln Brigade was organizing to fight fascism in Spain in the name of the Popular Front, and a militant anti-racist movement was growing that equated segregation at home with Nazism abroad that will eventually feed into the “Double V” campaign.

Then he became a fine arts student. To be an artist in New York City in the 1930s was to be surrounded by the “Cultural Front.” We’re talking the WPA Arts and Theater Projects, Diego Rivera painting socialist murals in Rockefeller Center, Orson Welles turning Julius Caesar into an anti-fascist play and running an all-black Macbeth and “The Cradle Will Rock,” Paul Robeson was a major star, and so on. You couldn’t really be an artist and have escaped left-wing politics. And if a poor kid like Steve Rogers was going to college as a fine arts student, odds are very good that he was going to the City College of New York at a time when an 80% Jewish student body is organizing student trade unions, anti-fascist rallies, and the “New York Intellectuals” were busily debating Trotskyism vs. Stalinism vs. Norman Thomas Socialism vs. the New Deal in the dining halls and study carrels.

Steven Attewell: Steve Rogers Isn’t Just Any Hero - Lawyers, Guns & Money

gotta love a well-researched takedown of such lazy, hoary tropes as “Captain America is a monolithic aryan crypto-fascist”

Having straight-up seen people on this site suggest that Cap is an “Aryan ideal” and endorses white supremacy, I appreciate this on a deep level. You don’t have to be going for a doctorate in 20th Century American history to understand that Cap being physically perfect, tall and blond was meant to be a slap in the face to Nazism and Hitler’s wild ideas about racial purity, not an endorsement of it. Nothing says “fuck you” quite like your Aryan superman being a first-generation Irish-American kid from New York who hates your Nazi guts.
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treat other people the way captain kirk would treat them: with a big heart and the benefit of the doubt, but not afraid hit them with the majestic force of your entire body rappelled off a wall if they’re a mean ol’ meanie who doesn’t respect other people
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My flight that was supposed to be leaving at 9:30 this morning (for which I had to wake up at 5:30 because driving, yay) is now leaving (allegedly) at 4:15 after they just shuttle us up a new plane from Las Vegas.

But hey, they gave us complimentary 8oz bottles of water for our trouble.



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