#mix it with that creole for the texas bama

[incarnateirony]

I'll be able to tell, real quick, how old or at least alert most people are around me, by who can actually remember and understand this.

Long ago, the CW didn't exist. WB and UPN did, with a TBS segment included as part of broadcast TV before being moved off to cable as its own channel as WB and UPN fell into themselves.

What used to be an ample array of black and other poc entertainment on broadcast tv just fell in to white washed 20 somethings that swore up and down by its marketing it was progressive--a pledge a largely now-white audience bought, with bare minimum plugs checking boxes while still sort of stonewalling the original airspace from the types of creatives that used to dominate it.

What became TBS was the first megastation in TV--ironically launched a few years after the Winchesters timeline. It wasn't called that, but became it, and Atlanta was the first national station, but sort of lost ground over time.

WB was sort of installed to the historic culture, but the old blood of Atlanta and its arms like Nola are all this special culture--of people that led make or break lives to glory despite all odds against them, ready to play dirty as they need to and absolutely over the better part of ... mm. well, you know. everything white people. which. you know. well deserved.

So there's a certain... ironic white privilege pouring off of stubborn canadian fandom transplants expecting it's just going to change the way it acts thinks creates and vibes to cater to a canadian apology and like sorry but no. this is the opposite of apologetics.

One video, if you can be arsed to think of no other cultural connotations, dig through these

lmao really trying that big bitch keyboard warrior doxxing shit out here, my god, catch on

Check CW's new DEI, head of TV, and talent hiring 1000 black man traveling talent hunt.

we're coming home, get your asses out of the way

we did it, we murdered cbs and wb back into line and gave it back oh my god

let's crash this shit

OK LADIES NOW LETS GET IN FORMATION

PROVE TO ME YOU GOT SOME COORDINATION

COME ON FELLAS LETS GET THIS STADIUM SHAKIN

[feel--something]

You mix that negro with that creole make a Texas bama...

[jinsai-ish]

God wish I could draw. Listening to Formation and just had this image of dark-skinned Nyo America with wild natural hair curls and that star barrette and a huge smile.

"My daddy Alabama, Momma Louisiana

You mix that negro with that Creole make a Texas bama~"

[celmore-me]

"Formation" by Beyonce

“I slay, I slay, I slay, all day.”

https://youtu.be/WDZJPJV__bQ

Y’all haters corny with that Illuminati mess Paparazzi, catch my fly, and my cocky fresh

(stylin’)

I’m so possessive so I rock his Roc necklaces My daddy Alabama, Momma Louisiana You mix that negro with that Creole make a Texas bama

I like my negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils Earned all this money but they…

[mysticwinnerunknown]

Origem

Nascida e criada em Houston, no Texas, sul dos Estados Unidos, Beyoncé retoma suas origens ao longo do álbum e faz referências a si mesma — como é o caso de “hot sauce in my bag”, ou o “molho picante na minha bolsa”.

Em Formation, ela fala da origem de seus pais. Seu pai é do estado do Alabama e sua mãe é descendente de uma família que saiu do Canadá e foi viver no estado de Louisiana.

O Genious Lyrics explica um pouco sobre os termos “bama” e “creole”.

“Bama” was originally black slang for working class blacks arriving North from the South during the Great Migration. It meant someone who didn’t know how to behave “properly” and wasn’t presentable for white sensibilities (…) In Louisiana, “creole” is used to describe mixed-race descendants of Francophones. In the complex racial politics of Louisiana, Creoles are usually considered distinct from Blacks.

Então, a mistura de seus pais originou Beyoncé, uma Texas-bama:

You mix that negro with that Creole make a Texas bama

Ainda em Formation, Beyoncé reafirma que não deixa suas origens (nem seus temperos, ou hot sauces) para trás:

Earned all this money but they never take the country out me I got a hot sauce in my bag, swag.

[corey-musick]

modern day protest music - 7-27-2021

Coldplay may have been the headlining performers at Super Bowl L, but the real stars of the show were Beyonce and Bruno Mars, both of whom “crashed the party” and performed in the latter half of the performance. Beyonce’s performance in particular caused a great deal of controversy among conservative white people who were made uncomfortable by the unapologetically Black performance. 

Beyonce released “Formation,” the first song off of her genius album Lemonade, on February 6th, 2016, one day before performing it at Super Bowl L. The song contains such lyrics as “My daddy Alabama, Momma Louisiana / You mix that negro with that Creole, make a Texas bama.” She reclaims slurs against Black people in these lyrics (negro, bama, and more throughout the song), basically giving the middle finger to the white people who use them as tools of oppression. She then goes on to sing “I like my baby heir with baby hair and afros / I like my negro nose with Jackson 5 nostrils.” The first part refers to Blue Ivy (her daughter/”baby heir”) and how Beyonce likes for her hair to be natural. In a society where white people have decided that natural Black hair is unprofessional, she is fighting back against that, assuring listeners that she intentionally lets her baby’s hair go natural. The second part refers to how she loves her facial features which, again, have been labelled as ugly by society. She is proud of her Blackness in all its forms and wants people to know. 

Clearly, “Formation” celebrates Blackness in all its forms. As there are still plenty of racists (and plenty who tune in to the Super Bowl), however, there was controversy regarding the song being performed there. It was not only the lyrical content, however, as the performance itself was incredibly bold in its visuals. For example, all of Beyonce’s background dancers were dressed in outfits and berets meant to mimic those of the Black Panther Party, a Black Power organization known for advocating for self defense against police and other white violence towards Black people. Both the background dancers and Beyonce at one point, too, raise their fists in the air, a gesture known to be the Black Power salute. Right-wing publications and politicians were quick to attack her for supposedly being anti-police or anti-white. 

Beyonce’s performance of “Formation” took aim at police brutality and racial injustice in America and, in the process, angered the (white) people in power who remain complicit to both. Beyonce bringing these issues to a national stage - Super Bowl 50 remains the third most watched television broadcast of all time - meant that more people had their eyes opened to them, threatening the people in power. I believe this shows the power of protest music in an exemplary way. By bringing a song celebrating Blackness to one of the biggest stages in the world, Beyonce was able to cause a massive uproar from all different kinds of people both in support for and in denial of her message. It brought the conversation surrounding police brutality and racial injustice to a place it had never been before, opening the door for thousands of conversations to be had and, hopefully, for change to occur. 

One of the last lines of “Formation” kind of sums it up perfectly - “You know you that bitch when you cause all this conversation.” Beyonce (and everyone who uses protest music as a tool to fight against injustice) - you are that bitch. 

[mcclangst]

Survivors Guilt

“Oh my god! Shiro Turn it up!” Lance reached for the radio and turned the volume dial up to the point where the car buzzed to the beat. “Oh my god no-” Keith protested but it was too late. Lance and Shiro had already started singing. “Y'all haters corny with that illuminati mess. Paparazzi check my fly and my cocky-fresh.” Keith groaned and knew there was no getting out of it. He turned to hear Hunk softly chime in. “Not you too Hunk!” It’s a good song, man.“ "My daddy Alabama; my momma Louisiana. You mix that negro with that creole make a Texas-bama! I like my baby heir with baby hair and afros. I like my negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils!” The car slowed to an intersection stop light and continued to buzz along with the rhythm and beat. Lance danced in his seat and grabbed Shiro’s left hand and made him wave it in the air. Shiro and Hunk roared with laughter and Keith could barely hold it in much longer. “You’re ridiculous.” Keith sighed and tried to look away. This only made Lance sing louder and turn the volume up. “I see it I want it! I stunt, yellow bone it! I dream it, I work hard, I grind ‘til I own it!” Lance turned his head towards the back seat. “Sing, Keith!”

“No.” Keith crossed his arms in an attempt to shield his dignity.

“C'mon, Keith. Have some fun.” Shiro met his eyes trough the rear-view mirror.

“No.” Keith said more firmly this time but still looked away.

“It’ll only get louder~” Lance reached for the volume dial tauntingly; a smirk creeping on his face.

“…Okay fine!” Keith shouted. His ears couldn’t take anymore or they might explode along with the car.

“I’ll sing this next part with you.” Hunk offered. Keith nodded and mentally prepared himself for the utter humiliation he was about to endure. He knew Lance was never gonna let him live this down.

“Get ready, Keith!” Lance smiled still moving to the rhythm. Shiro inched the car forward when he light turned green, the few cars infront of them moving forward as well.

Hunk started a beat before Keith who quickly caught up. “Okay ladies, now let’s get in formation, cause I slay! Okay ladies, now let’s get in formation, cause I slay! Prove to me you got that coordination, cause I slay! Slay trick, or you get eliminated!”

“Woo!” Lance laughed from the front seat amazed that Keith was better than decent.

Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “When he fuck me good, I take his ass to Read Lobster.”

“Cause I slay!” Lance cackled.

“When he fuck me good, I take his ass to Red Lobster!”

“Cause I slay!” Lance and Hunk now fully chimed in with Shiro quietly singing along as he drove the car smoothly into the intersection.

“If he hit it right I might take him on a flight in my chopper!”

“I slay!”

All four boys were fully invested in the song that they didn’t see the speeding car come up on their six and swerve to the left lane. They didn’t see it try to speed past and merge into their lane.

But they did feel it when the car rammed into the passenger side of the car and flip them twice. They felt it when the car crashed into the road island and hit a tree on the driver’s side.

Glass shattered and the car looked deformed and beyond hope.

The radio belched fragments of the song. “Cause I– Bill ga– se I slay–” before completely shutting down.

Lance opened his eyes to a horrific pain. Huge glass shards stuck out of his right leg and arm. His chest hurt from the seatbelt and he felt sick. “Ugh…” he croaked. “Shiro? Shiro.” He lifted his already bruising left arm towards Shiro.

Shiro looked worse. Horrible. The tree curved the car on impact so the door was right up against the trunk. Shards of glass scraped and penetrated Shiro’s neck as blood sprayed across what was left of the window and the tree. “Oh god- Shiro!” Lance shook Shiro’s right arm violently with as much strength as he could.

“Hunk! Keith! Shiro’s gone!” He felt a lump form in his throat. When he heard no response, he tried turning his head towards the back but found it excruciatingly painful. He shrieked and tried to catch his breath.

With his left hand still in working condition, he reached for the rear-view mirror and angled it to see Hunk. He looked fine except for the car door crushing his arm against him and glass scattered on and around his body.

Lance angled the mirror so he could see Keith. He had forgotten Keith didn’t put on his seatbelt when they left. Keith’s body was leaning over his legs and his head pressed against the back of Shiro’s seat. His eyes were wide open and glazed over.

Lance threw up all over himself and began to cry. He felt the blood on his arm trickled down and hit his shirt, staining it.

It was then when the sirens were heard. A million things happened at once and Lance tried to focus on waking Hunk up. “Hunk! …Hunk wake up! Come on, please wake up!” Lance shouted through salty and bloody tears.

Paramedics and firemen worked to get Lance and his friends out of the car. The put a neck brace on him and lifted him out of the car as he screamed and told them to get his friends.

He was put on a stretcher and rushed to an ambulance and told them he wouldn’t shut up unless he knew Hunk and Keith were okay. “TELL ME! PLEASE TELL ME IF THEY’RE OKAY!”

“Sir, please call down we need to get you to a hospital.”

“NO! HUNK IS STILL IN THERE. KEITH… HE WASNT WEARING A SEATBELT. PLEASE JUST TELL ME THEY’RE OKAY.” He screamed. A woman jogged over to him and the paramedic he was with with a grim face.

“Sir I’m sorry, none of your friends made it.” She closed her eyes.

“No. No! NO THEY CANT- HUNK! KEITH! SHIRO!” He squirmed as they closed the bus doors and drove him to the hospital.

Lance went through a surgery and when he recovered he opened his eyes to see Pidge and Allura sitting with him. They stopped crying when they saw Lance stir.

“Lance!” Pidge reached for his hand.

“Hey. I got into a car crash.” Lance said.

“We know.” Allura sniffed and placed a hand on top of Pidge’s.

“Then you know where Keith and Hunk are? Shiro didn’t make it…” Lance looked down at the foot of the bed.

The girls looked at each other in worry. “Lance… you’re the only one who made it. Hunk and Keith are…”

“What? No, Hunk was fine.”

Pidge shook her head. “No, Lance. Keith’s neck snapped on impact and Hunk had internal bleeding.”

“You’re lying.” Lance took his hand away and felt that lump come back.

“Lance we’re sorry-”

“This is all my fault.” He began to cry again and put his hands over his face.

“Lance it couldn’t possibly be your fault.” Allura reassured him.

“Yes it is! I distracted Shiro! That car… it’s all my fault! I killed them! I distracted them and we got hit!” Lance wailed. The monitor beeped faster and nurses rushed in to restrain him and sedate him. “Stop! Let me die! Let me die! Stop it! Let me die!”

[assiscosta]

“My daddy Alabama, momma Louisiana You mix that negro with that Creole, make a Texas bama” . . . Ph: @jeffpereiraoficial . . #AfroBoy #Nigga #Nego #afro #black #Man #nigth #formation #hujicam #tattooed #instaboy #goodvibes #boy #blackpower #singer #beard #behappy (em Órbita Bar) https://www.instagram.com/assis_costa22/p/Bv2Rz-PBzHv/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ry6zw4a1nci6

[gardenianoire]

Great grandma was Martha Ann, grandma was Virginia Louise

🎵You mix that negro with that creole get a Texas bama🎶

[incarnateirony]

ok ladies now let's get in formation

Y'all haters corny with that Illuminati mess Paparazzi, catch my fly, and my cocky fresh I'm so reckless when I rock my Givenchy dress (stylin') I'm so possessive so I rock his Roc necklaces My daddy Alabama, Momma Louisiana

You mix that king with that Creole make a Texas bama

fellas let's get this stadium shakin

say my name you know who i am, too hot, hot damn

made all this money still never take the country out of me, got hot sauce in my bag. come on. take what's mine

[cancergrrrl97]

The signs as songs from Beyonce’s Lemonade

Aries: Daddy Lessons

Came into this world

Daddy’s Little Girl

And daddy made a soldier out of me

And we rode motorcycles

Blackjack, classic vinyl

Tough girl is what I had to be

Taurus: Forward ft. James Blake

Forward

Best foot first just in case

When we made our way ‘til now

It’s time to listen, it’s time to fight

Forward

Go back to your sleep in your favorite spot just next to me

Forward, forward

Gemini: Sorry

He only want me when I’m not there

He better call Becky with the good hair

He better call Becky with the good hair

Cancer: Sandcastles

We built sandcastles that washed away

I made you cry when I walked away

And your heart is broken cause I walked away

Show me your scars and I won’t walk away

Leo: Don’t Hurt Yourself ft. Jack White

Who the fuck do you think I am?

You ain’t married to no average bitch, boy!

I am the dragon breathing fire

Beautiful mane I’m the lion

Beautiful man I know you’re lying

I am not broken, I’m not crying

Virgo: Pray You Catch Me

You can taste the dishonesty 

It’s all over your breath as you pass it off so cavalier

But even that’s a test

Constantly aware of it all

My lonely ear pressed against the walls of your world

Libra: All Night

They say true love’s the greatest weapon

To win the war caused by pain, pain

But every diamond has imperfections

But my love’s too pure to watch it chip away

Oh nothing real can be threatened

True love breathes salvation back into me

With every tear came redemption

And my torturer became my remedy

Scorpio: Hold Up

What’s worse lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous and crazy?

Or like being walked all over lately, walked all over lately

I’d rather be crazy

Sagittarius: Freedom ft. Kendrick Lamar

Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move

Freedom, cut me loose!

Freedom! Freedom! Where are you?

Cause I need freedom too

I break chains all by myself

Won’t let my freedom rot in hell

Hey! I’ma keep running 

Cause a winner don’t quit on themselves

Capricorn: 6 Inch ft. The Weeknd

Stars in her eyes

She fights for the power, keeping time

She grinds day and night

She grinds from Monday to Friday

Works from Friday to Sunday

She gon’ slang

She too smart to crave material things

She pushing herself day and night

Aquarius: Formation

Ya’ll haters corny with that illuminati mess

Paparazzi, catch my fly and my cocky fresh

I’m so reckless when I rock my Givenchy dress (stylin’)

I’m so possessive so I rock his Roc necklaces

My daddy Alabama, momma Louisiana

You mix that negro with that creole, make a Texas bama 

I like my baby hair with baby hair and afros

I like my Negro nose with Jackson 5 nostrils

Earned all this money but they never take the country out me

I got hot sauce in my bag, swag

Pisces: Love Drought

So I’m trying to be fair

And you’re trying to be there and to care

And you’re caught up in your permanent emotions

All the loving I’ve been giving goes unnoticed

It’s just floating in the air, lookie there

Are you aware you’re my lifeline, are you trying to kill me?

If I wasn’t me would you still feel me?

Like on my worst day? Or am I not thirsty, enough?

[dontwantthenextcommanderiwantyou]

Lady Gaga’s performance is my second fave after Beyonce’s for their positive messages <3

2016 - Beyonce “You mix that negro with that Creole, make a Texas Bama. I like my baby hair with baby hair and afros. I like my negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils.” #WhatATimeToBeAfricanAmerican

2017 - Lady Gaga “No matter gay, straight or bi, lesbian, transgendered life. I’m on the right track baby, I was born to survive.” #WhatATimeToBeLGBTQ

Both of these strong women captivated the crowd and viewers with their powerful performances and messages. #WhatATimeToBeAWoman

[heathero15-blog]

Formation

My daddy Alabama, Momma Louisiana You mix that negro with that Creole make a Texas bama I like my baby heir with baby hair and afros I like my negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils Earned all this money but they never take the country out me I got a hot sauce in my bag, swag

Beyonce

[webbcrawler]

Lemonade at the beginning of 2016: “My daddy Alabama, momma Louisiana / You mix that negro with that creole, make a Texas bama!”

Lemonade at the end of 2016: “I’m sorry, Australians call Sprite WHAT?”

[ghalaghamdi-blog]

My daddy Alabama! Momma Louisiana! You Mix that Negro with that creole make Texas Bama!!

Beyoncé 2K15

[vcubeyonce-blog]

“The black conjure woman herself has long been a figure demonized in American culture. But black culture has survived due to her resourcefulness in preserving the cultural memory from the African continent by remixing it with other cultures here in North America through food, healing rituals and practices and chanting—note how the song itself falls somewhere between Beyoncé singing and rapping. Her lyrics are deceptively simple, reduced to local Southern lingo and repetitive phrases. In reclaiming black life, Beyoncé returns to a simplicity of language, in which the simplest phrase—”Slay trick, or get eliminated”—is loaded with exponential meaning. However, the video presents a catalog of visuals signifying Southern blackness, with echoes of the African Diaspora and the post-industrial world, as well as the historical. Empty swimming pools and parking lots suggest abandonment and an opportunity for rebuilding and resurrection. The pop star also gives her ancestral pedigree, “My daddy Alabama, Mama Louisiana/ You mix that negro with that Creole make a Texas bama,” against the backdrop of a parlor where portraits of an African king and queen hang from the walls.”  (Paragraph 5 and 6)

  I actually loved this article for multiple reasons, I loved that it discusses her embrace of Southern Black Identity, Southern Black Culture, and ultimately Southern Black Womanhood. This passage talks about Southern Black identity and a lot of what our culture entails. I love seeing Southern Blackness in this light because often it isn’t portrayed this way. One huge thing that I noticed in this article that is rarely bought up is Hoodoo/Conjure/Rootwork (African-American's African Diasporic Religion). Conjure is something that is fading because of its stigmatization and demonization by mainstream culture (white). Here she has herself as the conjure woman, embracing parts of our culture that has been thrown away by so many. I admired how the symbolism (language, aesthetic,etc) in Beyoncé’s Formation music video was broken down. She embraced Black sexual politics, queer and hetero. There were just so many reasons why I loved the video and the article explaining it, it was just so Southern Black and Beautiful. I posted the Formation music video.