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#Gail Davis
poppingmary · 1 month
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Gail Davis
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kwebtv · 5 months
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From the Golden Age of Television
Series Premiere
Annie Oakley - Annie and the Brass Collar - Syndicated - January 9, 1954
Western
Running Time: 30 minutes
Written by Robert Schefer and Eric Freiwald
Produced by Colbert Clark
Directed by William Berke
Stars:
Gail Davis as Annie Oakley
Brad Johnson as Lofty Craig
Jimmy Hawkins as Tagg Oakley
Robert Emmet O'Connor  as Dan Heywood
Britt Lomond as Martin Ellison (as Glase Lohman)
Roy Barcroft as Gang Leader
Paul E. Burns as Telegrapher
Chris Alcaide as Paul Dodson
Bob Woodward as Henchman
Dick Tufeld
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fashioninpaper · 1 year
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“Annie Oakley” ran for 81 episodes between January 9, 1954 & February 24, 1957. It starred Gail Davis as Annie Oakley, Jimmy Hawkins as Annie's little brother, Tagg, and with Brad Johnson as Deputy Sheriff Lofty Craig.
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perfettamentechic · 6 months
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15 marzo … ricordiamo …
15 marzo … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic
2023: Marisa Traversi, all’anagrafe Marialuisa Traversi, attrice italiana. Milanese di nascita, si trasferì con la famiglia a Roma subito dopo la seconda guerra mondiale. Dapprima cantante nei night romani e reginetta di vari concorsi di bellezza,  ottenne una parte nel 1957 nel film Parola di ladro (1957) e fu l’inizio di una carriera cinematografica e televisiva. Nell’estate del 1972 ebbe un…
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citizenscreen · 1 year
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Movie stars for #NationalGoFishingDay
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chicinsilk · 1 year
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US Vogue September 1985
Gail Elliott wears a slim-fit, collarless, lapel-less wool tweed jacket over a short, straight skirt in gray worsted wool. By Blassport. Earrings, Mark Davis, red scarves, design by Jeanne Delahaye, chocolate wool tights, Hanes, strappy pumps, Yves Saint Laurent. Hair by Oribe, NYC, makeup Linda Cantello.
Gail Elliott porte une veste en tweed de laine, à la coupe ajustée, sans col et sans revers, sur une jupe courte et droite en laine peignée grise. Par Blassport. Boucles d'oreille, Mark Davis, écharpes rouge, design par Jeanne Delahaye, collants en laine chocolat, Hanes, escarpins à brides, Yves Saint Laurent. Coiffure par Oribe, NYC, maquillage Linda Cantello.
Photo Paul Lange vogue archive
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pmg227 · 6 months
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Favorite Reads of March '24
“But it is not enough to read widely. One must also read well. One must read virtuously. The word virtue has various shades of meaning . . . but, in general, virtue can most simply be understood as excellence. Reading well is, in itself, an act of virtue, or excellence, and it is also a habit that cultivates more virtue in return.” Karen Swallow Prior in On Reading Well The Peach Seed Anita Gail…
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hottpinkpenguin · 3 months
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Letting Someone Go - Part 1
Benny Cross X Reader A/n: saw Bikeriders yesterday, needless to say I have a new Austin Butler character to obsess over <3 no better soundtrack to Benny Cross breakin' hearts than Zach Bryan. *the poem in this is lyrics from his song 'Letting Someone Go' Word Count: 2253 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use, Benny breaking hearts, angst, unhappy ending
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What you had done to deserve Benny was beyond you. After all, you’d always tried to be a good person. Tried to do the right thing, to treat other people well. So who had you wronged so mightily as to deserve the torture that was Benny Cross?
“Hey. Hey! I’m talkin’ here!”
Sheila snapped at you, wrenching you out of your own miserable head. You dragged your gaze off of Benny, playing pool in the corner, and back to your friend. 
“Sorry, Sheils,” you mumbled. She rolled her eyes at you as you took a deep gulp from your Budweiser. 
“You’re still draggin’ ass about that man, aren’t ya?” She nodded unabashedly towards Benny, raising an eyebrow at you in question. You wanted to sink into the dirty floorboards beneath you, just get swept away in the sewer pipes or water table or whatever the fuck was below this personal hell you’d found yourself in. 
You shrugged, gulping down more beer in the hopes that it might dull the ache in your chest. 
“He ain’t worth it, hunnie.” 
You fixed Sheila with a hard stare. She shook off your glare, lighting her cigarette and blowing a plume of smoke up into the rafters. 
“I’m just sayin’, there’s plenty of guys ‘round here for you to shack up with. Benny’s just a loose cannon is all, who cares if he’s off ya.” 
You drank until your beer was empty. Your head was beginning to swim, but unfortunately the booze wasn’t touching the sadness that had sent you to the bottle in the first place. You stood up from your chair, pushing back from the table with a loud and clumsy clatter. No one really noticed over the thumping bass of the jukebox or the din of the crowd. You walked over to the bar, trading in your two empty bottles for two fresh ones. Zipco eyed you curiously from his usual seat at the back corner of the bar, but you refused to acknowledge him. Last thing you needed was another friend trying to cajole you out of your heartbreak. 
By the time you came back to Sheila, Wahoo and Corky had plunked down on either side of her. Probably trying to get her into bed, you thought darkly. And they’d likely succeed, based on how she was batting her eyes up at them. Usually, you welcomed the company of the Vandals, but tonight you found you could hardly stand them. Not necessarily that you wanted to be alone, just left alone. Sitting by yourself and knocking back an obscene amount of beer as you stared daggers into the back of Benny’s head was all you were really game for tonight. 
Rather than join the others, you swerved and walked towards the back of the bar, past where Johnny was sitting with Brucie, Gail, and Cal. The light was broken back here, and the shadows suited your dark mood quite nicely. You settled into a chair, tucking your legs up underneath you as you cracked open one of the new bottles and gulped down another greedy mouthful. Finally by yourself for the moment, you let your mind run wild over the last few weeks.
Where had it gone wrong? What did she have that you didn’t? And why the hell did you care so much, while Benny clearly cared so little? 
After all, it’s not like you and Benny were anything. You’d been sleeping together for a couple months, sure; but that was just the lifestyle. You’d been raised up on the back of your daddy’s bike. He was a founding member of the Red Devils of Hamilton, Ontario; so that made you practically royalty in the MC world. You knew what it was to be a Vandal before they’d even existed as an idea in Johnny Davis’ head. Hell, you practically taught Johnny everything you knew about how to run a successful club. 
That was probably why Benny hurt so damn much, you realized. You’d never admit it out loud, but this whole thing was ass backwards. You were the one that was supposed to run around and break the biker boys’ hearts. You were the one that wasn’t supposed to get attached, the one who would cut bait and run at the first sign of feelings. You were definitely not the kind of girl who’d get hung up on some loser just because he rode a nice chopper. 
But instead, Benny Cross had gone and played you at your own game. When you’d come back to Chicago to check on Johnny Davis’ pet project, you hadn’t planned to stay more than a few days, maybe a week. You had your sights set on California, on a small rancher high up in the mountains outside Crescent City. 
But then you’d met Benny. Benny with those piercing blue eyes, that gentle pillow talky voice, and the most gorgeous set of lips you’d ever kissed. He’d had you panting after him like a puppy dog within three days. A few days had turned into a few weeks, which had stretched into a few months. Now, you were still here, looking to spend your second Christmas in the cold. And unlike the last one, this Christmas would be a lonely one.
You’d been tangled up in Benny for the better part of a year now. He still drove you just as wild as that first time you’d seen him. Even from this far away, you could hardly stand to look at him without squirming. 
The first eight or nine months had been good. Maybe not great, but damn good. You’d wanted it to be fucking terrific, Lord knows you wanted that more than anything. But something in Benny just wouldn’t thaw for you. He was exactly the type of man that every other hard biker tried to be. He didn’t care about much, except his club. Didn’t show feelings for the simple fact that he didn’t have many, at least not the deep kind that you were desperate for. He was a detached, unbothered person. At first, you’d mistaken that for easy-going. It certainly made getting to know him nice and easy. But after nine or ten months, the edges of your relationship had started to turn brittle. While you were lying awake at night, daydreaming about getting a house together and getting married and maybe a baby or two, Benny was out doing the same old shit. Drinking, fighting. Generally avoiding anything that required commitment or persistence. Just livin’ life in the breeze.
But things had really taken a turn when she showed up. You could remember the night so clearly. It had been late fall, maybe two months ago. She’d come in looking like a misfit, all prim and proper in her white jeans and pink sweater, with her hair done up like Jackie Kennedy and her perfect eyeliner. Way too shiny and sweet for this kind of crowd. The guys had, predictably, gobbled her up with their eyes. No one more so than Benny.
The moment was seared in your memory: she was looking at the door, Benny was looking at her, and you were looking at Benny. Next thing you knew, Benny was gone, racing after her into the November air. You’d watched from the foggy window as she’d climbed on the back of his bike and they’d rode off down the street, all the while the club was cheering like it was fucking homecoming or something. Never mind that you were literally gutted, your heart trampled and lying like a used up bag on the floor of the bar. 
Benny had come back the next night, all hang-dog and apologies. All “I’m sorry baby, that was wrong” and “I dunno what came over me” and “I promise, it was nothing”. Both of you knew those were all lies, but only one of you really wanted to believe them. You were clinging on tight to the fading dream that was Benjamin Cross, meanwhile he was racing headfirst into the future that was Kathy Bauer. 
She kept coming around after that. That’s how you really knew that you were going to lose him. If that pretty little minx had kept her distance, then maybe Benny would have really been able to close that door. But she couldn’t. And, as much as you hated her for it, you couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t blind. She saw the same things in Benny that you did, you could tell just from looking at her expression when he was around. She had stars in her eyes, same as you. 
At first, Benny had put on a pretty good show of sticking by you. Even though the two of you weren’t officially anything, there was a code in the club. Fellas stuck by their gals, and vice versa. And, just by virtue of how long you and Benny had been, well, how long you’d been you and Benny, you were owed some measure of loyalty. 
But after a week or two, Benny was straying. Kathy would come into the bar and Benny would get this tiny smile. He’d find excuses to sit near her. Then it turned into talking to her. Then it turned into talking with her alone. 
Then he’d finally said the words you’d been dreading. 
“Baby, we gotta talk.”
No no no no no, you were screaming inside as you calmly sat down at the kitchen table of the small apartment you'd set yourself up in. Your hands were shaking, so you’d played with the nearest coffee mug until you’d chipped your nails. 
“Listen, darlin’, I… well, I’m not too good at this sorta thing.”
One tear had slipped out. You’d practically smacked yourself in a hurry to get rid of it. You couldn’t stand how upset he had you. 
“Just say it, Benny.”
Benny had tried to grab your hands from across the table - for what purpose, you couldn’t imagine. But you’d pulled away from him, your eyes burning. 
“I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to find someone else, baby. I swear. I just… it just… happened.”
Too many tears to wipe away now. You were squeezing the coffee mug so tightly in your palms that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.
“It’s Kathy, isn’t it?”
Benny hadn’t said anything, just nodded. 
“And you’re moving in with her, aren’t ya?” 
To add insult to injury, before Benny even had the guts to properly break things off with you, he’d adopted a bad habit of sleeping on the back of his bike in front of her house. At least, that was what Cal told you. After you’d practically threatened to cut his throat with your blade. Not that you were much of a threat, but Cal had a soft spot for you and you knew it. You weren’t afraid to press on the soft spots when needed. 
Another single nod from Benny. You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not.
“So… you’re done with me then, yea? Is that what you’re saying?”
Another. Fucking. Nod.
And so, that was the end of it. A fitting ending, all things considered. Benny, quiet as the grave, just nodding away the entire future you’d dreamt up for yourself at his side. 
Unable to figure out what to say or how to feel, you just shrugged and let the tears slip off your jaw and plunk down onto the plastic checkerboard tablecloth. 
“Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”
You wished you’d have added some harsher words at the end, leave a little sting on him, but you didn’t trust your voice not to crack. So it had been your turn to stay quiet while Benny packed up his things - a shockingly small amount, you realized, as it took him less than three minutes to shove them all into a pillowcase. 
The final dagger had been when he’d hesitated at the door, looking back over his shoulder at you. You were exactly where he’d left you: sitting at the kitchen table, crying, that coffee mug turning over and over in your shaking palms. He’d turned back and walked over to lay a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead. The most affection that man had ever shown you had been in the goodbye that he’d made you say for him. It was an irony that you didn’t think you’d ever get over. 
As you sat in that dark, lightless corner of the bar, watching Benny shoot pool with Big Jack and Cockroach, Kathy leaning against a high-top table a few feet away and beaming at him, you thought about some ridiculous poem you’d heard once. If someone had put a pistol to your head, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them where you heard it or who wrote it or even what the rest of the poem was about. Just one line came floating back to you out of the back of your mind:
One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.
**Read part 2 here! **Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!
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Hey girl xx I was wondering if you’re up for some johnny writing from the Bikeriders? If so that would be absolutely AMAZINGGG 💋💋 I feel like it would fit ur writing style so well!!
ahhh hi babes!! ty sm much for your request! it’s been such a long day but after two naps in glad i could finish for our and all other johnny girls:))
sent from above
johnny davis x fem!reader / 889 words
idea: one of johnny’s guys needs a help, and you’re there to show why you really are heavenly
tw: none just fluff on top of fluff
notes: yall today has been SO LONG woke up so early to go to a 4th of july parade and i’m FAMISHED!! but by listening to so much LDR have me the strength to write abt this sexy ass man:) so i hope yall enjoy
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
“s’what did ya’ wanna ask me?” it’s later in the afternoon, light peaking through the scratched up windows. you came to stop by after getting your nails done by gail, but inevitably got sleepy and have been resting your head on johnny’s shoulder for the past half hour. his leather jacket drenched over your cold body.
besides you and johnny, wahoo, corky, and cal were the only ones in the bar, but the meeting would be starting in a few hours. that’s when big jack had stumbled in the bar, you weren’t expecting to see him this early, but you of course didn’t mind.
so here you are, listening to what big jack wanted to ask johnny.
“well uh.. i was wondering if i could talk to you.. alone” he spoke lowly “s’just us big guy, we ain’t gonna snitch” wahoo said with a laugh. he’s right, this place is safe to ask for something, especially from johnny.
“um.. well” he was now looking at you sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed. shy. oh. johnny realized very quickly why he wanted to talk to him alone, and he shut that down instantly “nah.. nah none of that bullshit,” he said with a chuckle, taking the run down cigarette out of his mouth. it was laughable that he had to waste time addressing this “you don’t gotta be like that jus’because my baby’s here? she ain’t gonna lift her pretty little head up from my shoulder and go jus’ for your ass and your damn question” he said firmly, and you know so for how deep his voice got and how it rumbled in his body. whatever anyone needs to say, they can say in front of you.
cut the bullshit.
big jack glanced back at you again, sending you a look of apology and hoping that your weren’t super offended. he knows that you won’t do no harm, johnny reminds everyone that you're the sweetest girl he could ever wish for, and that you’d never try to hurt somebody. ever.
“well c’mon now, spit it out,” johnny’s voice chimed again, his chicago accent sharp as a knife. he’s not the one you want to make impatient.
big jack confesses he's been wanting to ask out this girl that’s been hanging out with for a while, and overhearing that she’ll be here once again tonight. so in all honesty, the poor guy just wanted some advice. all the guys started to tease him, expecting much worse. but the look on big jack’s face made your heart swell for a moment. he just wanted to show this girl what he really means to him.
but after he told everyone her name, you realized something. “she used to work at my dads repair shop,” your gentle voice broke through as you sat up, and made the other boys attention shift to you, eagerly waiting to hear more. including johnny “really? i-wow i uh.. that’s great! do-do y’know what she’s like, or what she may like?” you spoke directly to you, and you spotted a spark of hope in his eyes.
“she and i would hang out after her shift ended, we’d go to the ice cream parlor on the corner of ‘peach street’, across the way from the jefferson’s flower shop,” you voice was so smooth and silky, it only helped big jack feel more comfortable “her favorites are pink roses, we’d grab a bouquets and give them to strangers on our way home, in stores, parks, on the street” johnny could only smile. he’s known his girl had a heart of gold, but learning that you’ve always been so kind to others, only made him fall more in love with you.
you told big jack to ask her out and take her around there, knowing that your old friend had a special love for those places. he had a blush on his face now, regretting that he doubted your trust for something so small. “thank you so much dollie, i.. i’m sorry that i made it seem like you couldn’t hear what i had to say, just felt a little afraid to ask for advice about love in front of a sweet girl like you” you smiled up at him, knowing how nerve wracking it must feel to want to impress the love of your life. jus ask johnny! you can still recall how much of a flustered and stuttery mess he was when asking you to be his girl.
“not a problem, let me know how it goes!” you said with a squeal. all of you said your goodbyes, wishing big jack the best of luck. after he walked out the doors, all the boys were chatting about his impressed they were with your ‘love advice’
“y’really are something sent from heaven, aren’t ya’” cal completed you, an toothy grin on his face “why’d you think i always talk about her? she’s a real angel” johnny said proudly.
you look up at him, your cheeks hurting from how much your smiling “my little angel sent from above, aren’t you babygirl?” “i’m glad you think so” you’re head falling back on his shoulder, the red and black checkered button up feeling soft against your face.
before you went back to resting, johnny whispered in your ear “i know so” then placing a kiss on the top of your head, his stumble feeling rough again your skin.
in your mind, you’re the one who’s truly blessed.
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kellyhall · 6 months
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Annie Disciplines Tagg!
Don't worry, Tagg. In a few years you'll love being spanked by an aggressive woman!
Gail Davis and Jimmy Hawkins in "Annie Oakley."
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perfettamentechic · 2 years
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15 marzo … ricordiamo …
15 marzo … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic
2021: Yaphet Kotto, Yaphet Frederick Kotto, attore statunitense. Si sposò tre volte: con Rita Ingrid Dittman, con Antoinette Pettyjohn e con Tessie Sinahon. (n. 1939) 2020: Suzy Delair, vero nome Suzanne Pierrette Delaire, attrice francese. E’ stata la compagna di Henri-Georges Clouzot. (n. 1917) 2015: Sally Forrest, nata Katherine Feeney, attrice statunitense, teatrale e televisiva degli anni…
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groovysarity · 3 months
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Until 1974 in the USA women were unable to open a bank account or acquire a line of credit without a man co-signing.
The financial services industry was led by (usually white) men. So eight women came together to turn everything around by opening their own Women's Bank.
Carol Green, Judi Wagner, LaRae Orullian, Gail Schoettler, Wendy Davis, Joy Burns, Beverly Martinez, and Edna Mosely founded the bank's board by each pitching in $1,000.
On 14 July 1978 The Women's Bank opened for business. People stood in line down the street in downtown Denver to deposit their money. The first day's deposits exceeded $1 million
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imwintr · 3 months
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cold
pairing | corky x reader
prompt | “it’s a camping trip, and one character’s forgotten their sleeping bag” by scealaiscoite wc 1406.
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Deciding to join the vandals on their Dayton run picnic was a last minute decision. Having never spent a substantial amount of time with any of them other than seeing a couple of them over your neighbor Kathy’s home in passing, it would be fair to say that you were skeptical about attending. Though Kathy’s husband Benny seemed friendly enough, no amount of friendliness would be enough to convince you that hanging out with a motorcycle club that had been recently accused of arson was a good idea. 
The only reason you even initially even considered the idea was because although you and Kathy had been neighbors for well over a few years, you hadn’t become friends until recently when she stopped by asking to borrow some sugar. She confided in you about Benny’s injuries and the whole Lakeside ordeal, so you decided to attend on behalf of her “moral support”. It wasn’t like you had much of anything else to do in the coming days regardless, having already taken several days off from work. 
Since you weren’t staying for the entire duration of the run–and obviously didn’t own a motorcycle–you settled on staying for two nights before heading back on the road. Already not being the biggest fan of camping in general, you attempted to shove down the ensuing dread that was bubbling in your stomach to no avail. That feeling only intensified when you actually arrived on the grounds and saw the copious amount of people that were already there. 
Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to locate Kathy, who quickly introduced you to some of the other wives and girlfriends who had rode in with their partners. She furthermore introduced you to the Vandals’ leader and founder Johnny Davis, who you were initially wary of because of what you learned beforehand, but meeting Betty made you believe he still had to have some decency left under all of that bravado. Afterwards, you started getting approached by some of the members themselves despite Kathy’s attempt to swat the majority of them away–especially one Vandal in particular.  
This wouldn’t actually be your first time meeting Corky, though all of your other interactions were in passing with only a few words spoken. He asked you to remind him of your name before taking a seat next to you, causing Kathy to roll her eyes before resuming her conversation with Gail. Knowing that a good bulk of the guys in the club were bums who had no foreseeable future other than risking their lives riding motorbikes, you could understand why she was trying to steer you away from getting involved with any of them (not to mention the present circumstances she was dealing with in her own marriage). 
“Enjoying yourself?” he questioned, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose from where they had begun to slide down. You had to admit it, you found him pretty attractive, although you would never admit that out loud, nor would you willingly allow yourself to develop any feelings for him. He was probably just humoring you or trying to be cordial since it was technically your first time at one of their events. Little did you know that couldn’t be further from the truth. 
“I guess so, is this what you guys call fun?” you attempted to joke, which he thankfully seemed to pick on and gave you a laugh in return. Someone else decided to sit down on the other end of the bench, causing him to scooch over to where your legs and arms were brushing up against each other. Surprising yourself, you didn’t immediately move away from the contact. That awful feeling of dread you initially held when you arrived was long gone, replaced with an odd giddiness that made it difficult to keep a smile off of your face or keep yourself from laughing at each dumb joke he made. 
Never having been the type to hastily fall in love or believe in something as ludicrous as love at first sight, this was entirely foreign to you–and made your current behavior borderline unrecognizable to anyone that knew you beforehand. It wasn’t like you were constantly irritable or anything of that nature, but it wasn’t uncommon to see you donning an unamused expression when someone attempted a romantic advance. If someone were to tell you a week ago that you would be practically cuddled up next to a member of the Vandals a week later, you would have asked if they were feeling alright. As the day went on, you spent the rest of your time witnessing some of the club members’ absurd antics and listening to the girls conversate about what was going on in their relationships. 
By nightfall, groups had begun to break out and settle around individual campfires before turning in to go to bed. It was only then when you noticed how cold it had gotten with the sun having gone down, leading you to venture out to your car to retrieve a blanket. Noticing your return, Corky gave you a teasing smile before he asked “Still enjoying yourself?”. Rolling your eyes, you took the seat he had saved you between Wahoo and himself, and nodded before pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Are you cold?” He questioned, his smile fading and his eyebrows raising in concern. 
“A little bit.” you admitted sheepishly, suddenly feeling foolish for not packing better and being more prepared for the weather. “But I’ll be alright–” you were cut off mid sentence when you felt him gently grab your elbow so your arms and legs were touching just like before. 
“Better?” 
“I guess.” responding with a shrug, you giggled when he rolled his eyes in response, mirroring your actions from earlier. Around a couple of hours later, you guess he had gotten tired because he eventually decided to lay down on the log and propped up his leg behind you. You did your best to ignore Kathy’s playfully judgemental stare but it was kind of challenging when you were practically sitting in between Corky’s legs (which are quite long by the way). 
By the time everyone had decided that they were turning in for bed, you had really begun regretting your decision to just sleep in your car instead of bringing sleeping bags like everyone else and sleeping closer to the campfire. You weren’t looking forward to the cold leather in the backseat of your car, especially after sitting next to a human body heater and a campfire for several hours. Once you bid Kathy goodnight, you began walking out past everyone rolling out their sleeping bags to your car that was about 30 feet away. Hearing someone softly call out your name, you whipped your head around to see a familiar face removing his sleeping bag from his bike. 
“Where you going?”
“I didn’t bring a sleeping bag so I’m just gonna sleep in my car.” Saying that out loud caused you to cringe internally. Why didn’t you just bring a sleeping bag to a camping trip? 
“You’re gonna freeze, just take mine.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Apparently your back and forth was getting bothersome because someone from a nearby sleeping bag hissed for you to quiet down and go to sleep. 
“We can just share it.” He suggested before picking a spot to roll it out for the night. Despite not wanting to cause anymore of a commotion than you already had, you were still milling over whether or not to just share the sleeping bag with him or just head back to your car–but you made the decision to stay. If it was anyone else you would have been overwhelmed and anxious–but to your own bewilderment the man who was beckoning you to lay down next to him, whose legs were comically too long for the sleeping bag he owned–did no such thing. 
Squeezing in next to him you were immediately met with an arm snaking its way around your shoulder to pull you closer to him. Rolling onto his back he left the arm around your shoulder and placed the other one behind his head, leaving you enough room to rest your head on his chest. There was no nagging feeling deep inside telling you to get up and run away, instead–you felt oddly at peace. 
Maybe hanging out with the Vandals for a few days wouldn’t be so bad.
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lizbethborden · 10 months
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Hi again! Yeah, from your bookshelf! You seem well informed and I wanna know the type of stuff you read and might recommend. I don't even know what to tell you for my interests because I feel like I'm just begining. Sorry I'm young and dumb still haha.
#1 you're not dumb and #2 nothing to apologize for :)
Here's some books I've got on my shelves or that I've read:
Men Who Hate Women: From Incels to Pickup Artists, Laura Bates
Pro: Reclaiming Abortion Rights, Katha Pollitt
Women, Race, & Class, Angela Davis
American Girls, Nancy Jo Sales
Lesbian Culture: An Anthology, eds. Julia Penelope and Susan J Wolf
Lesbian Studies, Margaret Cavendish
Hood Feminism, Mikki Kendall
Against White Feminism, Rafia Zakaria
Sister and Brother: Lesbians and Gay Men Write About Their Lives Together, eds Joan Nestle and John Preston
Another Mother Tongue, Judy Grahn
Aimee & Jaguar, Erica Fischer
Mouths of Rain: An Anthology of Black Lesbian Thought, ed. Briona Simone Jones
Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe, John Boswell
The Mary Daly Reader, eds. Jennifer Rycenga and Linda Barufaldi
Hidden from History: Reclaiming the Gay and Lesbian Past, eds. Martin Duberman, Martha Vicinus, George Chauncey Jr.
Testosterone Rex: Myths of Sex, Science, and Society, Cordelia Fine
Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Father's Tongue, Julia Penelope
The Resisting Reader, Judith Fetterley
The Double X Economy, Linda Scott
Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture, ed. Roxane Gay
Home Grown: How Domestic Violence Turns Men Into Terrorists, Joan Smith
Intercourse, Andrea Dworkin
The Trials of Nina McCall: Sex, Surveillance, and the Decades-Long Government Plan to Imprison "Promiscuous" Women, Scott Stern
The Politics of Reality: Essays in Feminist Theory, Marilyn Frye
Only Words, Catharine A. Mackinnon
Everything Below the Waist: Why Health Care Needs a Feminist Revolution, Jennifer Block
Witchcraze: A New History of the European Witch Hunts, Anne Llwellyn Barstow
Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Frontlines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture, Peggy Orenstein
Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men, Caroline Criado-Perez
Lesbian Ethics: Toward New Values, Sarah Lucia Hoagland
We Were Feminists Once: From Riot Grrrl to CoverGirl, the Buying and Selling of a Political Movement, Andi Zeisler
Of Woman Born: Motherhood as Experience and Institution, Adrienne Rich
On Lies, Secrets, and Silence: Selected Prose, Adrienne Rich
Feminism, Animals, and Science: The Naming of the Shrew, Lynda Birke
The Female Body in Western Culture: Contemporary Perspectives, ed. Susan Rubin Suleiman
Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza, Gloria Anzaldua
Flesh Wounds: The Culture of Cosmetic Surgery, Virginia L Blum
Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment, Patricia Hill Collins
Pornland: How Porn has Hijacked our Sexuality, Gail Dines
Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women, Susan Faludi
From Eve to Dawn: A History of Women in the World, Marilyn French
This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, eds. Cherrie Moraga and Gloria Anzaldua
Seeing Like a Feminist, Nivedita Menon
With Her Machete In Her Hand: Reading Chicana Lesbians, Catriona Reuda Esquibel
The Disappearing L: Erasure of Lesbian Spaces and Culture, Bonnie J. Morris
Foundlings: Lesbian and Gay Historical Emotion before Stonewall, Christopher Nealon
The Persistent Desire: A Butch/Femme Reader, ed. Joan Nestle
The Straight Mind and Other Essays, Monique Wittig
The Trouble Between us: An Uneasy History of White and Black Women in the Feminist Movement, Winifred Breines
Right-Wing Women, Andrea Dworkin
Woman Hating, Andrea Dworkin
Why I Am Not A Feminist, Jessica Crispin
Sapphistries: A Global History of Love Between Women, Leila J Rupp
I tried to avoid too many left turns into my specific interests although if you passionately want to know any of those, I can make you some more lists LOL
I would suggest picking a book that sounds interesting and using the footnotes and bibliography to find more to read. I've done that a lot :) a lot of my books have more sticky tabs or w/e in the bibliography than in the text so I don't lose stuff I'm interested in.
Hope this helps!
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graysoncritic · 5 months
Text
A (Negative) Review of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Bibliography
Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography
Below the cut is a list of all sources used for the essay A Negative Review of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run
Andreyko, Marc, writer. Bennett, Joe, illustrator Hero’s Journey. Nightwing Annual. 2, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2007
Ashley [TheBat_Family]. Twitter, 13 October 2020, https://twitter.com/TheBat_Family/status/1316006509923520512
Bells, JL “Success in Stasis: Dick Grayson’s Thirty Years as a Boy Wonder.”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015, pp. 08-27
Borsellino, Mary “‘A lot like Robin if you close your eyes.’ Displacement of meaning in the Post-Modern Age,  2006
Baxi, Steve, “TRADE COLLECTION REVIEW: Nightwing Vol. 1 - Leaping Into The Light” Comics Bookcase, August 2021
Braxi, Steve, “On Superman, Shootings, and the Reality of Superheroes” Comics Bookcase, September 2021
Castellucci, Cecil, writer. Sauvage, Marguerite; Lupacchino, Emanuela; Aneke, illustrators.  Little Wonders. Batgirl: Rebirth. 50, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2020
Chen, Jess [jesswchen]. “Tweet Message.” Twitter, 18 March 2023, https://twitter.com/jesswchen/status/1636971185782259716?s=20
Dixon, Chuck, writer. Leonardi, Rick, illustrator. The Gun. Birds of Prey. 39, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2002
Dixon, Chuck; Grayson, Devin; Peterson, Scott; writers. Ha, Gene; Scott, Damion; Land, Greg; Stelfreeze, Brian; Guice, Jackson; Eaglesham, Dale; Floyd, John; Jimenez, Phil; Brown, Eliot R.; McDaniel, Scott; Nolan, Graham; Rosado, William; Kuhn, Andy, illustrators. DC Secret Files: Nightwing Secret Files #1. DC Secret Files: Nightwing Secret Files #1 no. 01, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1999
Dixon, Chuck, writer. McDaniel, Scott, illustrator The Freebooters. Nightwing. 03, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1996
Dixon, Chuck, writer. McDaniel, Scott, illustrator The Visitor. Nightwing. 06, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1996
Dixon, Chuck, writer. McDaniel, Scott, illustrator. False Starts. Nightwing. 21, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1998
Dixon, Chuck, writer. McDaniel, Scott, illustrator. The Forgotten Dead. Nightwing. 24, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1998.
Dixon, Chuck, writer. McCarthy, Trevor, illustrator. The Threshold. Nightwing. 60, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2001
Dixon, Chuck, writer. Burchett, Rick, illustrator. The Unusual Suspects. Nightwing. 66, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2002
Downey, Mason “In Defense of Dick Grayson: Objectification, Sexuality, and Subtext” Women Write About Comics. December 2015
Gail, Simone, writer. Timm, Bruce; Lopez, David; Melo, Adriana, illustrators. A Wakeful Time. Birds of Prey. 86, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005
Gail, Simone, writer. Bennett, Joe; Barrows, Eddy, illustrator. Perfect Pitch: Part One. Birds of Prey. 87, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005
Grayson, Devin, writer. Eaglesham, Dale, illustrator. Fear of Flames Part One: Fanning the Flames. Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight. 116, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1999.
Grayson, Devin. Incrimination. Nightwing no 83, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003
Grayson, Devin, writer. Zitcher, Path, illustrator The Calm Before. Nightwing. 86, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003
Grayson, Devin, writer. Zitcher, Patch, illustrator. Snowball. Nightwing. 87, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003
Grayson, Devin, writer. Davis, Shane, illustrator Flurry. Nightwing no 88, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003
Grayson, Devin, writer. Zircher, Patch, illustrator Avalanche. Nightwing no 89, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2004
Grayson, Devin, writer. Zircher, Patch, illustrator. Rekindle. Nightwing no 91, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2004
Grayson, Devin, writer. Garcia, Manuel, illustrator Flashpoint. Nightwing no 92, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2004
Grayson, Devin, writer. Zircher, Patch, illustrator. Slow Burn. Nightwing no 93, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2004
Grayson, Devin, writer. Hester, Phil, illustrator. Cold Turkey. Nightwing. 109, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005.
Grayson, Devin, writer. Chiang, Cliff, illustrator. Signed, Sophia. Nightwing. 111, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005
Grayson, Devin, writer. Chiang, Cliff, illustrator The Scorpion and the Frog. Nightwing no 113, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005
Grayson, Devin; Barr, Mike W., writers. Davis, Alan; Robinson, Roger, illustrator. Procedure. Batman: Gotham Knights  no. 25, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2002. pp. 20
Grayson, Devin; Jimenez, Phil, writer. Jimenez, Phil; Brown, Eliot R., illustrator. The Generation Gap. JLA/Titans no. 02, e-book ed. DC Comics, 1998
Humphries, Sam, writer. Chang, Bernard, illustrator The Untouchable: Chapter One: Hunter. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 35, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018
Humphries, Sam, writer. Chang, Bernard, illustrator. The Untouchable: Chapter Two: Relentless. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 36, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018
Humphries, Sam, writer. Janson, Klaus; Campbell, Jamal, illustrators. Ruthless. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 37, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018. 
Humphries, Sam, writer. Chang, Bernard, illustrator The Untouchable: Chapter Four: Infiltration. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 38, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018
Humphries, Sam, writer. Jimenez, Phil; Campbell, Jamal, illustrator. The Untouchable: Chapter Five:Face Off. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 39, e-book  ed. DC Comics, 201
Humphries, Sam, writer. Chang, Bernard, illustrator. The Untouchable: Chapter Six: Deep Dive. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 40, e-book  ed. DC Comics, 2018.
Humphries, Sam, writer. Chang, Bernard; Campbell, Jamal, illustrator. The Untouchable: Chapter Seven: Final Judgment. Nightwing: Rebirth no. 41, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2018
Johns, Geoff; Wolfman, Marv, writers. Nauck, Todd, illustrator.  The Brave and the Bold. Teen Titans no. 33, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2006
Jonathan [@Nightwingdagoat]. Twitter, 21 June 2022, https://twitter.com/Nightwingdagoat/status/1539267708310765568
Jurgens, Dan, writer. Cliquet, Ronan, illustrator. War for the Mind Nightwing: Rebirth. 71, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2020
Jurgens, Dan, writer. Cliquer, Ronan; Moore, Travis, illustrators. Who is Dick Grayson? Nightwing: Rebirth. 75, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2020
King, Tom; Seeley, Tim, writers. Janin, Mikel, illustrator. The Raid. Grayson no. 04, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2014
Loeb, Jeph, writer. Sale, Tim, illustrator. Orphans. Batman: Dark Victory. 09, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2000
Neb | 🏳️‍🌈 [@NebsGoodTakes]. Twitter, 20 June 2022, https://twitter.com/NebsGoodTakes/status/1538939571789934593
Pangborn, Joshua R “Fashioning Himself a Hero: Robin’s Costume and its Role in Shaping His Identity”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015 pp. 40 - 53
Seeley, Tim, writer. To, Marcus, illustrator Bludhaven: Part One. Nightwing: Rebirth. 10, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2016.
Snyder, Scott. Knife Trick. Batman. 01, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2011
Tom Taylor [@TomTaylorMade] Twitter, 25 January 2024 https://twitter.com/TomTaylorMade/status/1750685937292718094?t=q1n5w_a6NeZRLstUL0h_4g&s=19
Tom Taylor [@TomTaylorMade]. Twitter, 21 June 2022, https://twitter.com/Nightwingdagoat/status/1539267708310765568
Taylor, Tom [TomTaylorMade]. Twitter, 22 June 2023, https://twitter.com/jesswchen/status/1636971185782259716?s=20
Taylor, Tom. writer, Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Leaping into the Light Part Two. Nightwing: Rebirth. 79, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator.  Leaping into the Light Part Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 80, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Leaping into the Light Part 4. Nightwing: Rebirth. 81, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Leaping into the Light Part 5. Nightwing: Rebirth. 82, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Leaping into the Light Part Six. Nightwing: Rebirth. 83, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021.
Taylor, Tom, writer. Rodriguez, Robbi, illustrator.  Fear State Part 1 of 3. Nightwing: Rebirth. 84, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Get Grayson. Nightwing: Rebirth. 87, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Get Grayson Act Two. Nightwing: Rebirth. 88, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Get Grayson Act Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 90, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022.
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Get Grayson Act Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 91, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart. Nightwing: Rebirth. 92, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Part Two. Nightwing: Rebirth. 93, e-book ed. DC Comics
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Part Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 94, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Part Four. Nightwing: Rebirth. 95, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Finale. Nightwing: Rebirth. 96, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022.
Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Power Vacuum: Part Four: The Leap. Nightwing: Rebirth. 100, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Taylor, Tom; Pacat, C. S., writers. Pansica, Eduardo; HDR, Daniel; Moore, Travis, illustrators.  
Superwing in Rise of the Underworld Finale. Nightwing: Rebirth. 104, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Taylor, Tom; Conrad, Michael, writers. Redondo, Bruno; Acuna, Serg, illustrator. You are 
Nightwing. Nightwing: Rebirth. 105, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Taylor, Tom, writer. Byrne, Stephen, illustrator. The Crew of the Crossed Part One. Nightwing: Rebirth. 106, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Taylor, Tom; Conrad, Michael, writers. Byrne, Stephen; Acuna, Serg, illustrator. The Crew of the 
Crossed Part Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 107, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Taylor, Tom, writer. Basri, Sami Nightwing. Nightwing: Rebirth. 111, e-book ed. DC Comics, 
2023
Waid, Mark, writer. Mora, Dan, illustrator. Team Spirit. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest no. 08, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Waid, Mark, writer. Lupacchino, Emanuela, illustrator. Scream of the Chaos Monkey. 
Batman/Superman: World’s Finest no. 12, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Waid, Mark, writer. Mora, Dan, illustrator. Manhunt. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest no. 14, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023
Wolfman, Marv, writer. Igle, Jamal, illustrator. Bride and Groom: Part One: The Courtship. Nightwing no. 129, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2007.
Wolfman, Marv, writer. Luque, Paco Diaz, illustrator. Bride and Groom: Part Four. Nightwing no. 132, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2007
Wolfram, Amy, writer. Kerschl, Karl, illustrator. In the Beginning… Part Three. Teen Titans: Year One no. 03, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2008.
Williamson, Joshua, writer. Sampere, Daniel; Herbert, Jack; Camuncoli, Giuseppe; Sandoval, Rafa, illustrators. Dawn of the DCU. Dark Crisis on Infinite Earth no. 7, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022
Willems, Patrick H. “The Secret Ingredient That Makes Raimi's SPIDER-MAN So Great (Season Premiere)” Youtube, uploaded by Patrick (H) Willems, 20 September 2022 
Winick, Judd, writer. Battle, Eric, illustrator. All They Do is Watch Us Kill: Part 3: It Only Hurts 
When I Laugh. Batman no. 650, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2006. Zdarsky, Chip, writer. Di Giandomenico, Carmine. The Knight Part 9. Batman: The Knight. 09, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022.
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By: Paul Mulshine
Published: Dec 28, 2015
Around this time of year, various journalists run sanitized versions of the creation myth of Kwanzaa. They report that it has roots in African culture and overlook the fact that founder Maulana Karenga has a past that discredits both him and his made-up holiday.
So, it was interesting to see this article in which the writer notes that Kwanzaa is even less popular than Festivus, that holiday made up for the Seinfeld show.
Click here for the in-depth article I did for Heterodoxy Magazine on Kwanzaa back then.
Below is my 2002 column on the subject:
--
ONE OF MY READERS called me the other day to inform me that the public schools in New Jersey aren't allowed to celebrate Christmas but are celebrating Kwanzaa.
This is intriguing. Christmas celebrates the legacy of Christ who, by all accounts, was a nonviolent man who believed that people of all types could learn to live in peace. Kwanzaa celebrates the legacy of an extremely violent man from California who has dedicated his life to spreading dissension among the races.
More on that later. First let's deal with the question of why schools can propagate a belief in Kwanzaa but not Christmas or Chanukah. For an answer, I called Ed Martone of the American Civil Liberties Union.
''Kwanzaa isn't a religious holiday," said Martone. "It's a cultural holiday. It doesn't have the same restrictions as Chanukah or Christmas."
I'll grant that there is a certain logic to the view. After all, once the government gets involved in religion, the potential conflicts among Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims and atheists are so complex that perhaps we are better off avoiding them altogether.
But by that same logic, the public schools should not be pushing certain cultural practices. And the schools especially shouldn't be endorsing cultural practices created by a character with the beliefs and the background of Ron Karenga.
It is not easy to get a hold of the facts about the background of the creator of Kwanzaa. In fact, it is nearly impossible. The history of the founder of Kwanzaa has disappeared into an Orwellian time warp.
If you look up the name "Ron Karenga" on any of the many newspaper data bases that are available these days, you will read a glowing account of a deep-thinking philosopher who comes across as a sort of jolly Father Christmas for African-Americans.
You won't find any reference to murder or torture. Yet murder was a specialty of US, the paramilitary organization that Karenga ran in Los Angeles in the late 1960s.
As for torture, Karenga took that more personally. The accounts of his personal role in a particularly sadistic episode of brutality have been largely lost to history.
The episode seems to exist only on a few microfilmed pages of the Los Angeles Times. It took two days of research and phone calls to track them down.
Here is an excerpt from an article headlined "Woman describes two days of torture" on the May 1971 trial of Karenga for torturing two dissident members of his group:
''Deborah Jones, who once was given the Swahili title of an African queen, said she and Gail Davis were whipped with an electrical cord and beaten with a karate baton after being ordered to remove their clothes. She testified that a hot soldering iron was placed in Miss Davis' mouth and placed against Miss Davis' face and that one of her own big toes was tightened in a vise. Karenga, head of US, also put detergent and running hoses in their mouths, she said."
Karenga was convicted and served more than three years in a state prison.
This was not an isolated incident. In 1967, Karenga was accused of having his thugs beat up a student who asked him an impertinent question at a college forum.
In 1969, US got involved in a struggle with the Black Panthers for control of the black studies program at UCLA. All involved carried guns on campus. The US guys were quicker on the draw; they killed two Panthers in a shootout at the student center.
It would be nice to say that after Karenga got out of jail in 1975 he repented, saw the error of his ways and invented Kwanzaa as a means of atoning for his past.
Nice, but untrue. Karenga has never atoned for his thuggery, probably because no one ever asked him to. And his sole concession to repentance was his 1975 conversion to Marxism. For him, this was considered to be a sign that he had moderated his views.
Karenga invented Kwanzaa at the height of his gang days, in 1966. And he made it up not to bring peace among the races but to divide them. That's why he placed this alleged "harvest festival" in competition with Christmas, which he derided because of its ties to the hated capitalist system.
It may be true that Kwanzaa has evolved into a ceremony that has importance to a great number of well-intentioned people, people who have no knowledge of its creator's questionable history.
But Karenga himself continues to champion the holiday as an example of what he terms "cultural nationalism." This is the view that black people are a separate "nation" within a hostile country. During a visit to Newark in 1987, Karenga defined America as "an insane, socially decaying society." "We need a value system and a support system . . . because the world is organized against your Africanism," he told Newark residents.
Karenga remains a leading spokesman for the multicultural movement, a movement based on the idea that Americans should emphasize their differences rather than their similarities.
The idea of Kwanzaa fits firmly within multiculturalism. And however you feel about multiculturalism, you must admit that it is a political movement and therefore one that should not be supported with tax dollars.
As for Karenga himself, he should be given all the respect due a convicted torturer.
Call me an old fuddy-duddy, but I believe that once a man inserts a hot soldering iron into a woman's mouth, he should be excluded from public discourse for eternity. I may be wrong, however. Certainly, the people in California don't seem to share this view.
Karenga is now a professor at California State University in Long Beach.
That's California for you. By that standard, there's a university presidency waiting somewhere for Charles Manson when he finally gets out.
COMMENTS:
Note that I'm not arguing here that people shouldn't celebrate Kwanzaa. It's a free country and people can celebrate what they want.
I'm arguing that the media should not cover these celebrations without including the key facts about its founder. That's just basic journalism.
==
Why the Vice President of the United States feels compelled to pretend that her family has a long tradition of celebrating a fake holiday that apes African tropes and Judaism, concocted by a brutal felon and sociopath, and which was invented when she was two years old is a question worth seriously contemplating.
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