#disco is the peak of human civilization

[elbiotipo]

Can't stop thinking about "if youve ever said a dirty word about disco in your life youre going straight to hell brother"

[jennawynn]

Chronotrek TNG Part 4

We're sailing through season 2!

2x11- Contagion

Appearing out of nowhere sure sounds like a transporter.

It always amazes me that medical personnel have no medical first aid training outside of their tech. If tech is so automated that anyone can use it, specialists at least should be trained in what to do if an emergency renders tech useless. They don't know what a splint is, FFS.

2x12- The Royale

Beyonce meme: NASA?!?

2033 and 2079- when the flag had 52 stars. Puerto Rico and DC statehood in the next 9? It's possible.

The laugh I laughed when "It was a dark and stormy night... (heavy sigh)"

2x13- Time Squared

In the beginning, they seemed to be establishing a 'time travel always happened' explanation of time travel that seemed to track with Pike in SNW and the red lights in Disco, but by the end of the episode, I'm not so sure anymore.

2x14 The Icarus Factor

Hey, dad's from Liar Liar. Also ew.

Why would Geordi ever believe a Klingon ceremony involved a ballroom and formalwear :joy:

2x15 Pen Pals

They have memory erasing? Did I know that before? Nice to see Pulaski being less of a jerk to Data.

2x16 Q-Who?

Why do they even have a food replicator in engineering if drinks aren't allowed? (Also imagining someone saying you can't have coffee in the plant causing a mutiny lol)

PEE-card or Pih-CARD?

Borg reminds me of Scorpius from Farscape- like who raided the BDSM shops for these costumes?

Picard's point as he says engage is almost comedic and out of place. Almost fan-servicey sometimes.

2x17 Samaritan Snare

Can you make our ship go? (Yes) We look for things to make our ship go.

They're gonna steal him, aren't they?

They stole him.

Why would surgeons wear full red (and no masks!) Of course this is a bloodless show, so they're not gonna show splatter anyway. But apparently they don't have to cut anymore either. How you replace a heart without cutting I do not know.

2x18 Up the Long Ladder

They really softened Pulaski huh? Or was it just towards Data?

This is another abortion analogy- are they allowed to steal DNA to procreate? Riker even says 'the right to exercise control over our own bodies."

They really should have asked the women's opinions about the arrangement first, though. There's like 3 of them and they have to have multiple children via multiple men. That sounds like my nightmare.

2x19 Manhunt

Man. I can't believe she'd snipe her own daughter like that lol

2x20- Emissary

Half-Klingon, huh? Humans really are the sluts of the universe. I usually see this kind of thing (there are half-elves and half-orcs, but always half-human, etc.) explained as humans are naturally more diverse within our race compared to other races which means we're more capable of inter-species breeding. You never see the same diversity of skin tone, size, features, personality, etc. in fantasy/sci-fi races as you do in real humans (partially because they have to be recognizable as Vulcan/elf/Klingon/halfling, etc.)

2x21 Peak Performance

sheds a tear look how far Pulaski's come.

One of my fave TNG gifsets here- It is possible to make no mistakes and still lose.

2x22 Shades of Gray

As far as clip shows go... it wasn't the worst I've seen.

3x1 lol Wes's little pimple face in 4k.

The uniforms are certainly thicker! AND collared! Yay!

All due respect to Sir Pat Stew, but Brent Spiner might have been the best actor on that set. The range he had to show.

Nanite civilization. Do we ever check in on them again?

3x2 Hey that voice is recognizable. Oh! Mrs. Doubtfire and Liar Liar (again!)

You don't understand the scope of my crime. I didn't kill just one Husnock or a hundred or a thousand. I killed them all. All Husnock everywhere. Are 11,000 people worth 50 billion? Is the love of a woman worth the destruction of a species?

We are not qualified to be your judges. We have no law to fit your crime.

God what would you even do if you wanted to penalize him for genocide? There's nothing you COULD do to a creature with that power... good thing he's punishing himself.

[midnightcowboy1969]

I do think human civilization peaked with disco

[super-chaitea]

you ever hear a disco song and just go "oh yes this is it"

[80sbrookeshields]

Disco culture was a peak moment in human civilization, and its musical characteristics made quite a comeback in many notable 2020 albums. In my latest blog post, I examine my own love for the genre, as well as a bit of its past and present. Check it out here.


Photos are from Dazed Magazine’s 2014 Metallic Blues editorial, styled by Katie Shillingford and photographed by Ruth Hogben ✨💫

[soclonely]

The Clones as Pop Culture Things and Events From the 1960s and 70s

With the end of the year winding down, I thought it would be interesting to check out some of the trends and things popular from groups of decades for the next few days to close out this hell of a year and I actually learned a lot of really cool things I would have never thought of if I hadn’t.

Day 2: The 1960s and 70s- Civil Rights Movement, The Vietman War, and The Space Race

STAR WARS A NEW HOPE: May 25, 1977- the birth of us

Rex- The Draft of 1961 started for the men in the US as a call to serve in the military. Echo-July 20, 1969, Neil Armstrong became the first human to step on the moon Fives-The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed, paving the way for equal rights for everyone regardless of race, religion, sexual preferance, color, or nation of origin. Even though America is the land of opportunity, we still struggle with these rights today and just like the people of the 60s, we are hear to make our voices heard Jesse- Nothing beats a Jet Age car from the 60s, the space race influenced everything from television to even our vehicles! Nothing beats a 1965 mustang! the mid 1960s were known as the years of STYLE Kix- Speaking of style, the 1970s brought us the glory of bellbottoms at the beginning of the decade, and pantsuits toward the end. Guess they realized boogeying on the dance floors of the disco would be easiler without parachutes strapped to your calves Tup- CHEST HAIR BAYBEEEEEEEE. Those low cut 70s shirts made of polyester and bright colors most of the men wore. You know you wanna see if it fluffy or not Dogma-Watergate scandal and the resignation of President Nixon, 1961 failed invasion of Cuba by the CIA. Hardcase- G.I Joe came out, quickly becoming one of the classics still sold o shelves today Coric- Beatlemania took the world by storm! Discos became the HOT place to meet up in the 70s. Woodstock led the way for artists like Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and The Who to wow the crowds Bly- MoTown records in Motor CIty Detroit is hopping! Motown hits are sweeping the nation, paving the way for The Temptations, Diana Ross, The Marvelettes, and the Four Tops to record some of the songs we still enjoy today. Please Mr Postman, is there a letter from my favorite clone boy to me? 99- Peanuts became a household program. Don’t you think our sweet and loving 99 would make a cute charlie brown? Cody- The Vietnam war peaked, with many Americans opposed the war on moral grounds, appalled by the devastation and violence of the war. People were openly disgusted with the government and its choices. Waxer and Boil- Family movies became a staple. “To Kill A Mockingbird”, “Swiss Family Robinson”, and “The Godfather” Wolffe-boxing was owned by Muhammad Ali. and not only were his fists hurtful, his words could also pack a punch that would make even the hardest man double take. My mannnn <3 Sinker and Boost- The Kennedy Family became one of the most popular in America. From the White House to the Big screen. Hunter- Baseball was the forefront sport of the 70s, (Pete Rose and the big red machines ) records were being smashed almost as much as bats in the diamond Wrecker- The 60s were a great time to be a Green Bay Packers Fan(if thats even possible, go Lions!) because they one the first TWO Superbowls. Tech- Space pissing contests between nations as the cold war raged on.  Crosshair-Sex, love and rock & roll was a way of life

[heavensarmy777-blog]

Games I Own List

Games I Own So Far

I may not be able to live stream all these games since some are not compatible with the systems I can live stream with. Also some are to high age rated for this channel so I will not play those also.

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Steam Games and Online Games:

100% Orange Juice – Demo | AdVenture Capitalist |

Adventure Communist | AdventureQuest 3D |

All is Dust | Anno2070 | Antenna | Atulos Online |

Awkward Dimensions Redux |

Baldur’s Gate II: Enhanced Edition | Banished |

Bendy and the Ink Machine | Blameless |

Boring Man – Online Tactical Stickman Combat |

Brawlhalla | Castle Clicker | CAYNE | Cities: Skylines |

Claire | Clicker Guild | Clicker Heroes |

Color Symphony | Confess My Love |

Cosmo Osmo | Counter-Strike: Source |

Creativerse | Crusaders of the Lost Idols |

Cry of Fear | The Cubicle |

Dark Souls: Prepare to Die Edition |

The Desolate Hope | Destination Sol | Disturbed |

Dr. Langeskov, The Tiger, and The Terribly Cursed

Emerald: A Whirlwind Heist |

Don’t Starve | Don’t Starve Together |

Doorways: Old Prototype | Duelyst | Dwarfs F2P |

Electric Highways | Endless Sky | Epic Battle Fantasy 3 |

Epic Clicker Journey | Escape the Game: Intro |

Eternal Senia | Evoland | Evoland 2 | Fallout |

Fallout 2 | Fallout Shelter | Fallout Tactics |

Fingerbones | Firefall | First Person Lover |

Float Gallery VR | Forge of Gods (RPG) |

The Forgotten Ones | GameMaker Studio |

Garry’s Mod | Google Earth VR |

Guild Quest | Guns of Icarus Online |

Half Minute Hero: Super Mega Neo Climax Ultimate Boy |

Happy Wars | Harvest Seasons | Heavenstrike Rivals |

Hero Zero | Heroes of Havoc | Holyday City Reloaded |

Idling to Rule the Gods | The Huntsman: Winter’s Curse |

IKEA VR Pancake Kitchen | Infestation: The New Z |

Insanity Clicker | Jade Empire: Special Edition |

Learn To Fly 3 | Legionwood: Tale of the Two Swords |

Loading Screen Simulator |  

Lost Lands: A Hidden Object Adventure | Mad Father |

Mandagon | Manhole | Maplestory | Midas Gold Plus |

Minds Eyes | Missing Translation | Mobius Final Fantasy |

Moirai | Moonbase Alpha | mrshifty beta | My Lands |

Myst V | Myst: Masterpiece Edition | The NADI Project |

Naev | Neverwinter | No Time To Explain Remastered |

NVIDIA VR Funhouse | Office Space Idle Profits |

Off-Peak | The Old Tree | One Finger Death Punch |

Only If | Orake | The Panic Room |

Passing Pineview Forest |

Path of Exile | Pick Crafter | Picross Touch |

Pixel Puzzels Ulimate | The Plan | Portal | Portal 2 |

Princess Remedy in a World of Hurt | Quanero |

Ragnarok Clicker | Realm Grinder |

Realm of the Mad God | realMyst | Red Trigger |

Rexaura | Riven | The Room |

The Room Two | RPG MO |

RuneScape Idle Adventures | Sceal |

Scrap Garden – The Day Before | Serena |

The Settlers Online | Shadow Hunter |The Ship |

The Ship Single Player | Shop Heroes |

Sid Meier’s Civilization IV | Shakes & Fidget |

Shonen Idle Z | Shop Heroes |

Sid Meier’s Civilization IV: Beyond the Sword |

Sid Meier’s Civilization IV: Colonization |

Sid Meier’s Civilization IV: Warlords |

Sid Meier’s Civilization V | Simply Chess |

Soda Dungeon | Speech Trainer | Speed Runners |

Spelunx | Spooky’s Jump Scare Mansion |

Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic |

Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords |

Subnautica | Tabletop Simulator |

Tap Adventure: Time Travel | Tap Tap Infinity |

Tap Tap Legions – Eic battles within 5 seconds! |

The Bellows VR Demo | The Cubicle. |

The Desolate Hope | The Elder Scrolls Legends |

The Flaws of Gravity | The Forgotten Ones |

The Huntsman Winter’s Curse |

The Lab | The NADI Project | The Old Tree |

The Panic Room | The Plan | The Room |

The Room Two | The Settlers Online |

The VR Museum of Fine Art |

The Way of Life Free Edition | Time Clickers |

To The Moon | Torchlight II |

Transmissions: Element 120 | Transport Defender |

Trick & Treat | Trick & Treat – Visual Novel |

True or False | Twisted Worlds | Unturned |

Uru: Complete Chronicles | Vindictus |

Waltz of the Wizard | War Thunder | Warframe |

welcome to heaven | We Were Here | Windward |

World of Guns: Gun Disassembly |

XCOM: Enemy Unknown |

You Have 10 Seconds | You Have 10 Seconds 2 |

You Have to Win the Game | Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Links |

Zombidle: REMONSTERED |                       

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PlayStation One Games:

Alundra | Brave Fencer Musashi | Breath of Fire 3 |

Breath of Fire 4 | Bushido Blade |

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night | Chocobo Racing |

Chrono Cross | Darkstone | Dino Crisis | Dino Crisis 2 |

Einhander | Final Fantasy Anthology [FF5 and FF6] |

Final Fantasy Chronicles [FF4] (with) Chrono Trigger |  

Final Fantasy Origins [FF1 and FF2] |

Final Fantasy Tactics | Final Fantasy 7 |

Final Fantasy 8 | Final Fantasy 9 |

Front Mission 3 | Grandia |

Jade Cocoon Story of the Tamamayu | Legend of Mana |

Lunar: Silver Star Story Complete |

Mega Man Legends | Mega Man Legends 2 |

Parasite Eve | Parasite Eve 2 | Resident Evil 2 |

Saga Frontier | Saga Frontier 2 |

Sayuki: Journey West | Shadow Madness |

SimCity 2000 | Star Ocean The Second Story | Suikoden |

Suikoden 2 | The Legend Of Dragoon | Threads Of Fate |

Wild Arms | Wild Arms 2 | Vagrant Story | Xenogears |

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Playstation Portable Games:

Dissidia Final Fantasy | Dissidia 012 duodecim Final Fantasy |

Final Fantasy 7 Crisis Core | Silent Hill Origins |

Star Ocean The First Departure | Star Ocean The Second Evolution |

Jeanne d’Arc | Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep |

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Playstation Vita Games and PS TV compatible:

10 Second Ninja X | 99Vidas | A Virus Named TOM |

Actual Sunlight | Amnesia: Memories |

Another World 20th Annaversary | Azkend 2: The World Below |

Bard’s Gold | Bastion | Bombing Busters |

Brandish: The Dark Revenant | Breath of Fire IV |

Broken Sword 5 The Serpent’s Curse: Episode 1 |

Castlevania: SotN | Chrono Trigger | Chrono Cross |

Claire: Extended Cut | Code: Realize ~Guardian of Rebirth |

Counter Spy | Curses ‘N Chaos |

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc |

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair |

Day of the Tentacle Remastered | Dino Crisis |

Dino Crisis 2 | Dissidia 012[duodecim] Final Fantasy |

Don’t Die, Mr. Robot | Don’t Starve: Giant Edition |

Downwell | Dragon Fantasy Book I |

Dragon Fantasy Book II | Dragon Fin Soup |

Draw Slasher | Dungeon Punks |

Dynasty Warriors 8 Empires Free Alliances Version |

Entwined | Element4L | Final Fantasy Origins |

Final Fantasy Tactics |

Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions | Final Fantasy III |

Final Fantasy IV: The Complete Collection | Final Fantasy V |

Final Fantasy VI | Final Fantasy VII | Final Fantasy VIII |

Final Fantasy IX | forma.8 | Front Mission 3 | Furmins |

Helldivers | Hitman: Contracts HD |

Hitman: Blood Money HD |

Hitman 2: Silent Assassin HD | King Oddball |

Laser Disco Defenders | Legend of Dragoon |

Legend of Mana | Level 22 | Lumo | Mega Man Legends |

Mega Man Legends 2 | Monster Hunter Freedom Unite |

Nihilumbra | Ninja Senki DX |

No Heroes Allowed: No Puzzles Either! |

Nova-111 | Patapon 3 | Parasite Eve | Parasite Eve II |

Q*Bert Rebooted | Rainbow Moon | Resident Evil 2 |

Retro/Grade | Rogue Legacy | Saturday Morning RPG |

Severed | Sim City 2000 | Sky Force Anninersary |  

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona |

Persona 2: Eternal Punishment | Persona 4 Golden |

Ninja Senki DX | Pure Chess |

Severed | SPACE HULK | STARWHAL | Suikoden |

Suikoden II | Super Meat Boy | Tales of Hearts R |

The Legend of Dragoons | The Swindle | Titan Souls | TorqueL |

Type:Rider | Uncanny Valley | Vagrant Story | VVVVVV |

Wanted Corp. | Wild Arms | Wild Arms 2 | Whispering Willows |

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Playstation Two Games:      

And A Movie: Final Fantasy VII Advent Children.

Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter | Castlevania: Curse of Darkness |

Castlevania: Lament of Innocence | Chaos Legion |

Dawn of Mana | Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII |

Dokapon Kingdom |

Dragon Quest VIII: Journey of the Cursed King |

Drakengard | Drakengard 2 | Gladius | Fatal Frame |

Fatal Frame 2: Crimson Butterfly |

Fatal Frame 3: The Tormented |

Final Fantasy X | Final Fantasy X-2 |

Final Fantasy XI Online Vana’Diel Collection 2008 |

Final Fantasy XII | Final Fantasy XII Collector’s Edition |  

Front Mission 4 |

Fullmetal Alchemist and the Broken Angel |

Fullmetal Alchemist 2 Curse of the Crimson Elixir |

Grandia 2 | Grandia Xtreme | Grandia 3 |

Kingdom Hearts | Kingdom Hearts Re: Chain of Memories |

Kingdom Hearts II | Legaia 2: Duel Saga |

Radiata Stories | Romancing Saga |

Samurai Legend Musashi |

Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner |

Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner 2 |

Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga |

Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga 2 |

Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne |

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 |

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 4 |

Star Ocean: Till the End of Time | Suikoden Tactics |

The Bards Tale | The Bouncer |

The Bible Game | Unlimited Saga | Virtua Quest |

Valkyrie Profile 2 Silmeria | Xenosaga | Xenosaga 2 |

Xenosaga 3 | Yu-Gi-Oh Duelist of the Roses |

Zone of the Enders: The 2nd Runner |  

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Playstation Three Games: PS1 Classics and PS2.

99Vidas |Ace Combat Infinity |  Alien Rage |

Anna – Extended Edition |

Another World - 20th Anniversary | Atomic Ninjas |

Batman Arkham Asylum | Batman Arkham City |

Best of Board Games | BioShock Infinite | BlazeRush |

Bleach: Soul Resurreccion | Blood Knights | Borderlands |

Borderlands 2 | Bound by Flame | Breath of Fire IV |

Castlevania Symphony of the Night | Chrono Cross |

Chrono Trigger | Counter Spy | Darkstalkers Resurrection |

Dark Souls | Dark Souls 2 | Datura |

Deadly Premonition: The Director’s Cut | Deadpool |

Demons Souls | Deus Ex: Human Revolution | Diablo 3 |

Diablo 3 Reaper Of Souls | Dino Crisis | Dino Crisis 2 |

Disgaea D2 A Brighter Darkness |

Disgaea 4 A Promise Unforgotten | Dishonored |

Don’t Starve: Giant Edition | Dragon Age: Origins |

Dragon Age II | Dragon Fantasy Book I |

Dragon Fantasy Book II | Dragon Fin Soup |

Dragon’s Crown | Drakengard 3 |

Dungeons & Dragons: Chronicles of Mystara |

Earth Defence Force 2025 | Eat Them! | echochrome |

Enchanted Arms | Entwined | Eternal Sonata |

Extreme Exorcism | Fallout 3 | Fallout New Vegas |

Far Cry 3 Blood Dragon | Fatal Frame |

Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly |

Fatal Frame III: The Tormented | Fat Princess |

Final Fantasy Tactics | Final Fantasy Origins |

Final Fantasy V | Final Fantasy VI | Final Fantasy VII |

Final Fantasy VIII | Final Fantasy IX |

Final Fantasy 10/10-2 HD Remaster | Final Fantasy 13 |

Final Fantasy 13-2 | Lightning Returns Final Fantasy 13 |

Final Fantasy 14 |  Front Mission 3 |

Front Mission Evolved | From Dust | Furmins |

Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix |

Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince |

Helldivers Democracy Strikes Back Edition |

Hitman: Blood Money HD | Hitman: Contracts HD |

Hitman 2: Silent Assassin HD |

Ico (with) Shadow of the Colossus | Iconoclasts |

In Space We Brawl | InviZimals: The Lost Kingdom | Journey |

Kingdom Hearts HD 1.5 ReMIX | |

King Oddball | Legend of Dragoon |

Legend of Kay Anniversary | Legend of Mana |

Marvel: Ultimate Alliance 2 | Mass Effect Trilogy |

Medal of Honor Warfighter |

Mega Man Legends | Mega Man Legends 2 |

Mighty No. 9 |

Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch | Nova-111 |

Okami HD | Papers, Please | Parasite Eve |

Parasite Eve II |

Persona 2: Eternal Punishment | Persona 4 ARENA |

Persona 4 Arena Ultimax |

Pier Solar and the Great Architects |

Port Royal 3 Pirates & Merchants | Q*Bert Rebooted |

Q.U.B.E: Director’s Cut | Ragnarok Odyssey ACE |

Rain | Rainbow Moon | Rayman 3 HD |

Red Dead Redemption | Resident Evil 2 | Resonance of Fate |

Retro/Grade | Risen 3: Titan Lords | Rogue Legacy |

Rune Factory: Tides of Destiny | Sacred 2 – Fallen Angel |

Sacred 3 | Savage Moon | Serious Sam 3: BFE |

Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga | Silent Hill |

SimCity 2000 | Siren | Sky Force Anniversary |

Sniper Elite V2 | Sniper: Ghost Warrior |

Sniper Ghost Warrior 2 |

Sonic’s Ultimate Genesis Collection |

South Park The Stick of Truth | Sparkle 2 | SSX |

Star Ocean The Last Hope – International | Starwhal |

Steins Gate | Steredenn: Classic | Super Motherload |

Suikoden | Suikoden II | Suikoden III | Suikoden IV |

Syberia | Syberia II | Tales of Graces f |

Tales of Symphonia Chronicles | Tales of Xillia |

Tales of Xillia 2 | The Book of Unwritten Tales 2 |

The Legend of Dragoons |

The Misadventures of Tron Bonne | The Swindle | Thief |

Titan Souls | Tokyo Jungle | Tomb Raider |

Tom Clancy’s Ghost Recon: Future Soldier | Twisted Metal |

Under Night In-Birth Exe:Late | Vagrant Story |

Vandal Hearts: Flames of Judgment | Wild Arms |

Wild Arms 2 | White Knight Chronicles |

White Knight Chronicles 2 | XBlaze Lost: Memories |

Zombie Driver HD | Zone of the Enders HD Edition |

Zone of the Enders: The 2nd Runner HD Edition |

Xblaze Lost: Memories |

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Playstation Four Games: PS2 on PS4 also        

10 Second Ninja X | 2064: Read Only Memories |

99Vidas | A King’s Tale: Final Fantasy XV |

ABSOLVER | Abyss Odyssey: Extended Dream Edition |

ABZÛ | Adr1ft | AdventurePop | AeternoBlade |

Amnesia Collection | Among The Sleep |

Another World - 20th Anniversary Edition |

Apex Legends | Armello | Assassin’s Creed Freedom Cry |

Azkend 2 | Bard’s Gold | Bastion | Batman The Telltale Series |

Batman Arkham Knight | Battle Ages | Battle Islands |

Battle Islands: Commanders | Beyond: Two Souls | Big City Stories |

Bioshock The Collection (with) Bioshock Infinite |

Bloodborne | Bombing Busters |

Borderlands: The Handsome Collection |

Bound | Call of Duty: Black Ops III |

Call of Dudy: Modern Warfare Remastered |

Catlateral Damage | Child of Light |

Chronicles of Teddy Exidus | Claire |

Clicker Heroes | Conan Exiles | Costume Quest 2 |

CounterSpy | Curses ‘N Chaos |

Cyber Danganronpa VR the Class Trial | Dark Cloud |

Dark Cloud 2 | Dark Souls III |

Darksiders II Deathinitive Edition |

Darksiders III | Day of the Tentacle Remastered |

Daylight | Dead by Daylight |

Dear Esther: Landmark Edition |

Death Tales | Destiny 2 | Detroit Become Human |

Deus Ex: Mankind Divided |

Digimon Story Cyber Sleuth |

DiRT Rally 2.0 | Disc Jam | Don’t Die Mr Robot |

Don’t Starve: Console Edition | Downwell |

Dragon Age: Inquisition |

Dragon Fantasy: The Black Tomb of Ice |

Dragon Fin Soup |

Dragon Quest Heroes: The World Tree’s Woe and the Blight Below |

Drawn to Death | Dungeon Punks | Dust: An Elysian Tail |

Erica | Entwined | Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture |

Extreme Exorcism | Fallout 4 | Fallout Shelter |

Final Fantasy Type-0 HD | Final Fantasy VII | Final Fantasy IX |

Final Fantasy X/X-2 HD Remaster |

Final Fantasy XII The Zodiac Age |

Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn | Final Fantasy XV |

Firewall Zero Hour | forma.8 | Fortnite | Foul Play |

Friday the 13th The Game | Furi | Game of Thrones |

Gauntlet | Goat Simulator | God of War III Remastered |

Gone Home: Console Edition | Grand Kingdom |

Gravity Rush 2 | Gunhouse | Guns Up! | Heavy Rain |

Helldivers | Here They Lie | Horizon Zero Dawn |

Horizon Chase Turbo | I am Bread | Iconoclasts |

In Space We Brawl | InFamous First Light |

InFamous Second Son | INSIDE | Invisible, Inc. Console Edition |

Ironclad Tactics | Jackal Assault (PSVR) | Journey |

Just Cause 3 | Killing Floor 2 | King Oddball |

Kingdom Hearts – HD 1.5 + 2.5 ReMIX |

Kingdom Hearts HD 2.8 Final Chapter | Kingdom Hearts III |

Kitten Squad | Knack | Knowledge is Power |

Kung Fu Panda Showdown of Legendary Legends |

Laser Disco Defenders | Laser League | Let It Die |

Life Is Strange | Limbo | LittleBigPlanet 3 |

Lords of the Fallen | Lovers in a Dangerous Spacetime |

Lumo | Mad Max | Mafia III | Magicka 2 |

Marvel’s Spider-Man | Mass Effect: Andromeda |

Metal Gear Solid V: Phantom Pain |

Middle-earth Shadow of Mordor Game of the Year Edition |

Mighty No. 9 | Minecraft | MLB The Show 19 |

Monster Energy Supercross – The Official | NBA2K20 |

Neverwinter | Ninja Senki DX |

Ni no Kuni II: Revenant Kingdom | Nioh | NOT A HERO |

Nova-111 | Odin Sphere Leifthrasir |

Okage: Shadow King | Omega Quintet |

Onrush | Outlast | Outlast 2 | Overcooked |

PAC-MAN Championship Edition 2 | Paragon |

Path of Exile | Pier Solar and the Great Architects |

Pirates: Treasure Hunters | Pneuma: Breath of Life |

Portal Knights | Psycho-Pass Mandatory Happiness |

Q*bert: Rebooted | Q.U.B.E Director’s Cut |

Qurare: Magic Library | Rainbow Moon | Ratchet & Clank |

Rayman Legends | Rebel Galaxy | Rec Room |

Resident Evil | RIGS Mechanized Combat | RiME |

Rise Of The Tomb Raider 20 Year Celebration |

Rocketbirds 2: Evolution | Rogue Aces | Rogue Galaxy |

Rogue Legacy | Saints Row: Gat out of Hell |

Saturday Morning RPG | Shadow Of The Colossus |

Skulls of the Shogun | Sky Force Anniversary |

Slender – The Arrival | Sniper Elite 3 Ultimate Edition |

Sniper Elite 4 | SOMA | Sonic Forces |

Sonic Mania | Space Overlords | Sparkle 2 |

Spelunker World | Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time |

Star Trek Online | StarBlood Arena | Starwhal |

Stories: The Path of Destinies |

Strike Vector EX | Submerged | Super Meat Boy |

Super Motherload | Surgeon Simulator |

Table Top Racing: World Tour | Tales of Zestiria |

Tearaway Unfolded | Terraria | That’s You! |

The Banner Saga | The Bridge | The Deadly Tower of Monsters |

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Special Edition |

The Flame in the Flood | The Last of Us Remastered |

The Sims 4 | The Surge | The Swindle |

The Tomorrow Children | The Vanishing of Ethan Carter |

The Witness | This War of Mine: The Little Ones |

Titan Souls | Titanfall 2 | TorqueL | Trackmania Turbo |

Transformers: Devastation | Transistor | Trials Fusion |

Tricky Towers | Tropico 5 | Type:Rider | Uncanny Valley |

Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End |

Uncharted: The Narhan Drake Collection | Until Dawn |

Until Dawn: Rush of Blood (PSVR) |

Valkyria Chronicles Remastered | VirZOOM Arcade |

Warframe | What Remains of Edith Finch | Whispering Willows |

Wild Arms 3 | Wipeout Omega Collection |

Worms Battlegrounds | XCOM 2 |

Yu-Gi-Oh! Legacy of the Duelist | Zen Pinball 2 |

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Wii and Wii U Games:                                                                  

Breath of Fire | Breath of Fire 2 | Excitebike 64 |

Fatal Frame: Maiden of Black Water | Lost Reavers |

Lucadian Chronicles | Metroid | Metroid Fusion |

Nintendo Land | Super Mario 3D World |

Super Metroid | Swap Fire |

The Legend of Zelda |

Zelda II – The Adventure of Link |

The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past |

The Legend Of Zelda: Ocarina Of Time

The Legend Of Zelda: Majora’s Mask

The Legend of Zelda: The Windwaker |

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess |

The Legend Of Zelda: Skyward Sword

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild |

The Legend Of Zelda The Minish Cap |

Wii Sports Club |

=========================================

Wii and Game Cube Games:

Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles | Luigi’s Mansion |

Super Mario Galaxy |

The Legend of Zelda: The Windwaker HD |

=========================================

N64 Games:

Aidyn Chronicles: The First Mage |

Command & Conquer | Golden Eye 007 |

Mission Impossible | Quest 64 |

Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 | Top Gear Overdrive |

Top Gear Rally 2 | Wrestlemania 2000 |

Game Shark Pro

=========================================

[eddsworld-lads-blog]

ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

// I’m just gonna answer this one separate to any others because... there are no others. So there you go. I’m also putting it under a cut because there’s a lot.

ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪: what are your favorite band(s)/artist(s)?

Near Peak, George Michael (I fucking unironically LOVE Careless Whisper don’t @ me), Coldplay, Kendrick Lamar, Watsky, Kero Kero Bonito, G-Eazy (Only a couple songs tho tbh), Kyle, Blackbear, Troye Sivan, Diveo, Slime Girls, Aminé, Shawn Wasabi, Bill Wurtz. Aesop Rock, Alessia Cara, Jimmy Eat World, an Unkindness, JACK JOHNSON!!!, Stromae, Earthquake Lights, Globus, Ludo, and, just... so many more.

Also, some a fuckton of my favorite songs (regardless of artist) are:

Old Bike by Rob Cantor

All The Stars In Texas by Ludo

Let’s Get High And Watch Planet Earth by Watsky

Better Together by Jack Johnson

I Love You More Than You Think by Rizzle Kicks

Fragments by an Unkindness

How To Be A Heartbreaker by Marina and the Diamonds

Trash Talking Love by The Ready Set

for him. by Troye Sivan

Don’t Come Home by All Human

Our Apartment by Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties

New Year’s Eve by Mal Blum

Dangerous Man by Little Dume

Daddy-Longlegs by McCafferty

Get You (feat. Kali Uchis) by Daniel Caesar

Fifteen Minutes by Mike Krol

Calling by Ukiyo

Hell I Need by Squid the Whale

Hatefuck by Cruel Youth

Paper Mache Planes by Nova & the  Experience

Make Out by Julia Nunes

I’m Tired of Being Alone by WRENN

Another Set of Issues by OK Go

Emotions and Math by Margaret Glaspy

Take Me To Church by Jasmine Thompson

Never in My Wildest Dreams by Dan Auerbach

Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean

Jenny by WALK THE MOON

Flamingo by Kero Kero Bonito

I Mean It by G-Eazy

Billy Jean by The Civil Wars

Don’t Worry (with Ray Dalton) by Madcon

Careless Whisper by George Michael

Nicotine by Panic! At The Disco

New Americana by The Fire & Fury

Trumpets by Jason Derulo

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby by Cigarettes After Sex

[noramoya]

“Brilliant piece on power and race by Ta-Nahisi Coates which includes an extended comparison of Kanye West and Michael Jackson. I hope fans will generate significant discussion/critique on the underlying assumption that Michael Jackson was “dying to be white.” ~ Lisha McDuff .

************************************************

“I could only have seen it there, on the waxed hardwood floor of my elementary-school auditorium, because I was young then, barely 7 years old, and cable had not yet come to the city, and if it had, my father would not have believed in it. Yes, it had to have happened like this, like folk wisdom, because when I think of that era, I do not think of MTV, but of the futile attempt to stay awake and navigate the yawning whiteness of Friday Night Videos, and I remember that there were no VCRs among us then, and so it would have had to have been there that I saw it, in the auditorium that adjoined the cafeteria, where after the daily serving of tater tots and chocolate milk, a curtain divider was pulled back and all the kids stormed the stage. And I would have been there among them, awkwardly uprocking, or worming in place, or stiffly snaking, or back-spinning like a broken rotor, and I would have looked up and seen a kid, slightly older, facing me, smiling to himself, then moving across the floor by popping up alternating heels, gliding in reverse, walking on the moon.

Nothing happens that way anymore. Nothing can. But this was 1982, and Michael Jackson was God, but not just God in scope and power, though there was certainly that, but God in his great mystery; God in how a child would hear tell of him, God in how he lived among the legend and lore; God because the Walkman was still uncommon, and I was young and could not count on the car radio, because my parents lived between NPR and WTOP. So the legends were all I had—tales of remarkable feats and fantastic deeds: Michael Jackson mediated gang wars; Michael Jackson was the zombie king; Michael Jackson tapped his foot and stones turned to light. Even his accouterments felt beyond me—the studded jacket, the sparkling glove, the leather pants—raiment of the divine, untouchable by me, a mortal child who squinted to see past Saturday, who would not even see Motown 25 until it was past 30, who would not even own a copy of Thriller until I was a grown man, who no longer believed in miracles, and knew in my heart that if the black man’s God was not dead, he surely was dying.

And he had always been dying—dying to be white. That was what my mother said, that you could see the dying all over his face, the decaying, the thinning, that he was disappearing into something white, desiccating into something white, erasing himself, so that we would forget that he had once been Africa beautiful and Africa brown, and we would forget his pharaoh’s nose, forget his vast eyes, his dazzling smile, and Michael Jackson was but the extreme of what felt in those post-disco years to be a trend. Because when I think of that time, I think of black men on album covers smiling back at me in Jheri curls and blue contacts and I think of black women who seemed, by some mystic edict, to all be the color of manila folders. Michael Jackson might have been dying to be white, but he was not dying alone. There were the rest us out there, born, as he was, in the muck of this country, born in The Bottom. We knew that we were tied to him, that his physical destruction was our physical destruction, because if the black God, who made the zombies dance, who brokered great wars, who transformed stone to light, if he could not be beautiful in his own eyes, then what hope did we have—mortals, children—of ever escaping what they had taught us, of ever escaping what they said about our mouths, about our hair and our skin, what hope did we ever have of escaping the muck? And he was destroyed. It happened right before us. God was destroyed, and we could not stop him, though we did love him, we could not stop him, because who can really stop a black god dying to be white?

Kanye West, a god in this time, awakened, recently, from a long public slumber to embrace Donald Trump. He hailed Trump, as a “brother,” a fellow bearer of “dragon energy,” and impugned those who objected as suppressors of “unpopular questions,” “thought police” whose tactics were “based on fear.” It was Trump, West argued, not Obama, who gave him hope that a black boy from the South Side of Chicago could be president. “Remember like when I said I was gonna run for president?,” Kanye said in an interview with the radio host Charlamagne Tha God. “I had people close to me, friends of mine, making jokes, making memes, talking shit. Now it’s like, oh, that was proven that that could have happened.”

There is an undeniable logic here. Like Trump, West is a persistent bearer of slights large and small—but mostly small. (Jay-Z, Beyoncé, Barack Obama, and Nike all came in for a harangue.) Like Trump, West is narcissistic, “the greatest artist of all time,” he claimed, helming what would soon be “the biggest apparel company in human history.” And, like Trump, West is shockingly ignorant. Chicago was “the murder capital of the world,” West asserted, when in fact Chicago is not even the murder capital of America. West’s ignorance is not merely deep, but also dangerous. For if Chicago truly is “the murder capital of the world,” then perhaps it is in need of the federal occupation threatened by Trump.

It is so hard to honestly discuss the menace without forgetting. It is hard because what happened to America in 2016 has long been happening in America, before there was an America, when the first Carib was bayoneted and the first African delivered up in chains. It is hard to express the depth of the emergency without bowing to the myth of past American unity, when in fact American unity has always been the unity of conquistadors and colonizers—unity premised on Indian killings, land grabs, noble internments, and the gallant General Lee. Here is a country that specializes in defining its own deviancy down so that the criminal, the immoral, and the absurd become the baseline, so that even now, amidst the long tragedy and this lately disaster, the guardians of truth rally to the liar’s flag.

Nothing is new here. The tragedy is so old, but even within it there are actors—some who’ve chosen resistance, and some, like West, who, however blithely, have chosen collaboration.

West might plead ignorance—“I don’t have all the answers that a celebrity is supposed to have,” he told Charlamagne. But no citizen claiming such a large portion of the public square as West can be granted reprieve. The planks of Trumpism are clear—the better banning of Muslims, the improved scapegoating of Latinos, the endorsement of racist conspiracy, the denialism of science, the cheering of economic charlatans, the urging on of barbarian cops and barbarian bosses, the cheering of torture, and the condemnation of whole countries. The pain of these policies is not equally distributed. Indeed the rule of Donald Trump is predicated on the infliction of maximum misery on West’s most ardent parishioners, the portions of America, the muck, that made the god Kanye possible.

And he is a god, though one born of a different time and a different need. Jackson rose in the last days of enigma and wonder; West, in an accessible age, when every fuck is a tweet and every defecation a status update. And perhaps, in that way, West has done something more remarkable, more amazing than Jackson, because he is a man of no mystery, overexposed, who holds the world’s attention through simply the consistent, amazing, near-peerless quality of his work.

He arrived to us with Bin Laden, on September 11, 2001—life emerging out of mass death—and I guess it is more accurate to say here that he arrived to me on that day, since West had been producing since at least five years before. All I know is when I heard his production on The Blueprint, I felt that he was the one I had been waiting for. I was then, still, an aesthetic conservative, a vulgar backpacker who truly and absurdly believed that shiny suits had broken the cypher, scratched the record, and killed my beloved hip-hop. My theme music alternated between Common’s “I Used to Love H.E.R.,” The Roots’ “What They Do,” and O.C.’s “Time’s Up.” Slick Rick’s admonition—“Their time’s limited, hard-rocks’ too”—was my mantra, so that on that day of mass murder, when Kanye West greeted me, chopping up the Jackson 5, drawing from Bobby “Blue” Bland, pulling from David Ruffin, arrived with Jay-Z, an MC who dated back to the Golden Age, I did not see myself simply in the presence of a great album, but bearing witness to the fulfillment of prophecy. This was insane, and it has been the great boon of my life that Twitter did not exist back then, to come of age in the last days of mystery, because Lord knows how many times I would have told you hip-hop was dead, and Lord knows how many times I would have said “Incarcerated Scarfaces” was the peak of civilization. Forgive me, but that is who I was, an old man before my time, and all I can say is that when I heard Kanye, I felt myself back in communion with something that I felt had been lost, a sense of ancestry in every sample, a sound that went back to the separated and unequal, that went back to the slave.

That was almost 20 years ago. It is easy to forget just how long West has been at this, that he’s been excellent for so long, that there are adults out there, now, who have never seen the sun set on the empire of Kanye West. And he made music for them, for the young and futuristic, not for the old and conservative like me, and so avoided the tempting rut of nostalgia, of soul samples and visions of what hip-hop had been. And so to those who had been toddlers in the era of The Blueprint, he became a god, by pulling from that generation raised in hip-hop’s golden age, and yet never being shackled by it. (Even after the events of the week, it would shock no one if West’s impending was the best of the year.)

West is 40 years old, a product of the Crack era and Reaganomic Years, a man who remembers the Challenger crash and The Cosby Show before syndication. But he never fell into the bitterness of his peers. He could not be found chasing ghosts, barking at Soulja Boy, hectoring Lil Yachty, and otherwise yelling at clouds. To his credit, West seemed to remember rappers having to defend their music as music against the withering fire of their elders. And so while, today, you find some of these same artists, once targets, adopting the sanctimonious pose of the arthritic jazz-men whom they vanquished, you will not find Yeezy among them, because Yeezy never got old. Maybe that was the problem.

Everything is darker now and one is forced to conclude that an ethos of “light-skinned girls and some Kelly Rowlands,” of “mutts” and “thirty white bitches,” deserved more scrutiny, that the embrace of a slaveholder’s flag warranted more inquiry, that a blustering illiteracy should have given pause, that the telethon was not wholly born of keen insight, and the bumrushing of Taylor Swift was not solely righteous anger, but was something more spastic and troubling, evidence of an emerging theme—a paucity of wisdom, and more, a paucity of loved ones powerful enough to perform the most essential function of love itself, protecting the beloved from destruction.

I want to tell you a story about the time, still ongoing as of this writing, when I almost lost my mind. In the summer of 2015, I published a book, and in so doing, became the unlikely recipient of a mere fraction of the kind of celebrity Kanye West enjoys. It was small literary fame, not the kind of fame that accompanies Grammys and Oscars, and there may not have been a worse candidate for it. I was the second-youngest of seven children. My life had been inconsequential, if slightly amusing. I had never stood out for any particular reason, save my height, and even that was wasted on a lack of skills on the basketball court. But I learned to use this ordinariness to my advantage. I was a journalist. There was something soft and unthreatening about me that made people want to talk. And I had a capacity for disappearing into events and thus, in that way, reporting out a scene. At home, I built myself around ordinary things—family, friends, and community. I might never be a celebrated writer. But I was a good father, a good partner, a decent friend.

Fame fucked with all of that. I would show up to do my job, to report, and become, if not the scene, then part of it. I would take my wife out to lunch to discuss some weighty matter in our lives, and come home, only to learn that the couple next to us had covertly taken a photo and tweeted it out. The family dream of buying a home, finally achieved, became newsworthy. My kid’s Instagram account was scoured for relevant quotes. And when I moved to excise myself, to restrict access, this would only extend the story.

It was the oddest thing. I felt myself to be the same as I had always been, but everything around me was warping. My sense of myself as part of a community of black writers disintegrated before me. Writers, whom I loved, who had been mentors, claimed tokenism and betrayal. Writers, whom I knew personally, whom I felt to be comrades in struggle, took to Facebook and Twitter to announce my latest heresy. No one enjoys criticism, but by then I had taken my share. What was new was criticism that I felt to originate as much in what I had written, as how it had been received. One of my best friends, who worked in radio, came up with the idea of a funny self-deprecating segment about me and my weird snobbery. But when it aired, the piece was mostly concerned with this newfound fame, how it had changed me, and how it all left him feeling a type of way. I was unprepared. The work of writing had always been, for me, the work of enduring failure. It had never occurred to me that one would, too, have to work to endure success.

The incentives toward a grand ego were ever present. I was asked to speak on matters which my work evidenced no knowledge of. I was invited to do a speaking tour via private jet. I was asked to direct a music video. I began to understand how and why famous writers falter, because writing is hard and there are “writers” who only do that work because they have to. But it was now clear there was another way—a life of lectures, visiting-writer gigs, galas, prize committees. There were dark expectations. I remember going with a friend to visit an older black writer, an elder statesman. He sized me up and the first thing he said to me was, “You must be getting all the pussy now.”

What I felt, in all of this, was a profound sense of social isolation. I would walk into a room, knowing that some facsimile of me, some mix of interviews, book clubs, and private assessment, had preceded me. The loss of friends, of comrades, of community, was gut-wrenching. I grew skeptical and distant. I avoided group dinners. In conversation, I sized everyone up, convinced that they were trying to extract something from me. And this is where the paranoia began, because the vast majority of people were kind and normal. But I never knew when that would fail to be the case.

On top of the skewed incentives, the wrecked friendships, the paranoia, the ruin of community, there was a part of me that I was left to confront. I was the loneliest I’d ever felt in my life—and part of me loved it, loved the way I’d walk into a restaurant in New York and make the wait disappear, loved the random swag, the green Air Force Ones, the blue joggers. I loved the movie stars, rappers, and ballplayers who cited my work, and there was so much more out there waiting to be loved. I loved my small fame because, though I had brokered a peace with all my Baltimore ordinariness, with how I faded into a crowd, with how unremarkable I really was—and though I decided to till, as Emerson says, my own plot of ground, whole other acres now appeared before me. It almost didn’t matter whether I claimed those acres or not, because who are you if, even as you do good, you feel the desire to do evil? The terrible thing about that small fame was how it undressed me, stripped me of self-illusion, and showed how easily I could be swept away, how part of me wanted to be swept away, and even if no one ever saw it, even if I never acted on it, I now knew it, knew that I could love that small fame in the same terrible way that I want to live forever, in that way, to paraphrase Walcott, that drowned sailors loved the sea.

But I did not drown. I felt the gravity of that small fame, feel its gravity even now, and it revealed securities as sure as it did insecurities, reasons to preserve the peace. I really did love to write—the irreplaceable thrill of transforming a blank page, the search for the right word, like pieces of a puzzle, the surgery of stitching together odd paragraphs. I loved how it belonged to me, a private act of creation, a fact that dissipated the moment I stepped in front of a crowd. So, that really was me. But more importantly, I think, were things beyond me, the pre-fame web of connections around me—child, spouse, brothers, sisters, friends—the majority of whom held fast and remained.

What would I be both without that web and with a larger, more menacing fame? I think of Michael Jackson, whose father beat him and called him “big nose.” I think of the sad tale of West’s rumored stolen laptop. (“And as far as real friends, tell my cousins I love ‘em / Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker.”) I think of West confessing to an opioid addiction, which had its origins in his decision to get liposuction out of fear of being seen as fat. And I wonder what private pain would drive a man to turn to the same procedure that ultimately led to the death of his mother.

There’s nothing original in this tale and there’s ample evidence, beyond West, that humans were not built to withstand the weight of celebrity. But for black artists who rise to the heights of Jackson and West, the weight is more, because they come from communities in desperate need of champions. Kurt Cobain’s death was a great tragedy for his legions of fans. Tupac’s was a tragedy for an entire people. When brilliant black artists fall down on the stage, they don’t fall down alone. The story of West “drugged out,” as he put it, reduced by the media glare to liposuction, is not merely about how he feels about his body. It was that drugged-out West who appeared in that gaudy lobby, dead-eyed and blonde-haired, and by his very presence endorsed the agenda of Donald Trump.

I finally saw Michael Jackson moonwalk in 2001, finally watched the myth descend into the real, though finally overstates the matter. I had, by then of course, seen the legendary tape of his performance at Motown 25, but somehow it was not yet real to me, because I had not shared in the actual moment, at that moment, because I still, after all those years, remembered the longing of having missed a great event, and having experienced it secondhand. But this time I really was there, live as it was airing—the 30th anniversary of Jackson’s entrance into the pop-music world—and I am thankful that it happened then, at the end of that era of myth and legend, when the internet was still embryonic, and DVRs were not omnipresent, and the world had not yet been YouTubed, and reality television had just begun to peak over the horizon. This was a world still filled with the mysteries, secrets, and crank theories of my childhood, where the Klan manufactured tennis shoes and bottled iced tea, and shipped it all into the ghetto. What I am saying is that this was still a time, as in my childhood, when you mostly had to see things as they happened, and if you had not seen them that way, there still was a gnawing disbelief as to whether they had happened at all.

I think this, in part, explains the screaming and fainting. Jackson cranked up “Billie Jean” and I felt it too. For when I saw Michael Jackson glide across the stage that night at Madison Square Garden, mere days before the Twin Towers fell, I did not imagine him so much walking on the moon, as walking on water. And the moonwalk was the least of things. He whipped his mop of hair and, cuffing the mic, stomped with the drums, spun, grabbed the air. I was astounded. There was the matter of his face, which took me back to the self-hatred of the ’80s, but this seemed not to matter because I was watching a miracle—a man had been born to a people who controlled absolutely nothing, and yet had achieved absolute control over the thing that always mattered most—his body.

And then the song climaxed. He screamed and all the music fell away, save one solitary drum, and boneless Michael seemed to break away, until it was just him and that “Billie Jean” beat, carnal, ancestral. He rolled his shoulders, snaked to the ground, and then backed up, pop-locked, seemed to slow time itself, and I saw him pull away from his body, from the ravished face, which wanted to be white, and all that remained was the soul of him, the gift given onto him, carried in the drum.

I like to think I thought of Zora while watching Jackson. But if not, I am thinking of her now:

It was said, “He will serve us better if we bring him from Africa naked and thing-less.” So the bukra reasoned. They tore away his clothes so that Cuffy might bring nothing away, but Cuffy seized his drum and hid it in his skin under the skull bones. The shin-bones he bore openly, for he thought, “Who shall rob me of shin-bones when they see no drum?” So he laughed with cunning and said, “I, who am borne away, to become an orphan, carry my parents with me. For rhythm is she not my mother, and Drama is her man?” So he groaned aloud in the ships and hid his drum and laughed.

There is no separating the laughter from the groans, the drum from the slave ships, the tearing away of clothes, the being borne away, from the cunning need to hide all that made you human. And this is why the gift of black music, of black art, is unlike any other in America, because it is not simply a matter of singular talent, or even of tradition, or lineage, but of something more grand and monstrous. When Jackson sang and danced, when West samples or rhymes, they are tapping into a power formed under all the killing, all the beatings, all the rape and plunder that made America. The gift can never wholly belong to a singular artist, free of expectation and scrutiny, because the gift is no more solely theirs than the suffering that produced it. Michael Jackson did not invent the moonwalk. When West raps, “And I basically know now, we get racially profiled / Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho’d down,” the we is instructive.

What Kanye West seeks is what Michael Jackson sought—liberation from the dictates of that we. In his visit with West, the rapper T.I. was stunned to find that West, despite his endorsement of Trump, had never heard of the travel ban. “He don’t know the things that we know because he’s removed himself from society to a point where it don’t reach him,” T.I. said. West calls his struggle the right to be a “free thinker,” and he is, indeed, championing a kind of freedom—a white freedom, freedom without consequence, freedom without criticism, freedom to be proud and ignorant; freedom to profit off a people in one moment and abandon them in the next; a Stand Your Ground freedom, freedom without responsibility, without hard memory; a Monticello without slavery, a Confederate freedom, the freedom of John C. Calhoun, not the freedom of Harriet Tubman, which calls you to risk your own; not the freedom of Nat Turner, which calls you to give even more, but a conqueror’s freedom, freedom of the strong built on antipathy or indifference to the weak, the freedom of rape buttons, pussy grabbers, and fuck you anyway, bitch; freedom of oil and invisible wars, the freedom of suburbs drawn with red lines, the white freedom of Calabasas.

It would be nice if those who sought to use their talents as entrée into another realm would do so with the same care which they took in their craft. But the Gods are fickle and the history of this expectation is mixed. Stevie Wonder fought apartheid. James Brown endorsed a racist Nixon. There is a Ray Lewis for every Colin Kaepernick, an O.J. Simpson for every Jim Brown, or, more poignantly, just another Jim Brown. And we suffer for this, because we are connected. Michael Jackson did not just destroy his own face, but endorsed the destruction of all those made in similar fashion.

The consequences of Kanye West’s unlettered view of America and its history are, if anything, more direct. For his fans, it is the quality of his art that ultimately matters, not his pronouncements. If his upcoming album is great, the dalliance with Trump will be prologue. If it’s bad, then it will be foreshadowing. In any case what will remain is this—West lending  his imprimatur, as well as his Twitter platform of some 28 million people, to the racist rhetoric of the conservative movement. West’s thoughts are not original—the apocryphal Harriet Tubman quote and the notion that slavery was a “choice” echoes the ancient trope that slavery wasn’t that bad; the myth that blacks do not protest crime in their community is pure Giulianism; and West’s desire to “go to Charlottesville and talk to people on both sides” is an extension of Trump’s response to the catastrophe. These are not stray thoughts. They are the propaganda that justifies voter suppression, and feeds police brutality, and minimizes the murder of Heather Heyer. And Kanye West is now a mouthpiece for it.

It is the young people among the despised classes of America who will pay a price for this—the children parted from their parents at the border, the women warring to control the reproductive organs of their own bodies, the transgender soldier fighting for his job, the students who dare not return home for fear of a “travel ban,” which West is free to have never heard of. West, in his own way, will likely pay also for his thin definition of freedom, as opposed to one that experiences history, traditions, and struggle not as a burden, but as an anchor in a chaotic world.

It is often easier to choose the path of self-destruction when you don’t consider who you are taking along for the ride, to die drunk in the street if you experience the deprivation as your own, and not the deprivation of family, friends, and community. And maybe this, too, is naive, but I wonder how different his life might have been if Michael Jackson knew how much his truly black face was tied to all of our black faces, if he knew that when he destroyed himself, he was destroying part of us, too. I wonder if his life would have been different, would have been longer. And so for Kanye West, I wonder what he might be, if he could find himself back into connection, back to that place where he sought not a disconnected freedom of “I,” but a black freedom that called him back—back to the bone and drum, back to Chicago, back to Home”.

~ Ta-Nehisi Coates