taintedstu
Tainted Stu
ON SCIENCE AND REASON "To love justice, to long for the right, to love mercy, to pity the suffering, to assist the weak, to forget wrongs and remember benefits — to love the truth, to be sincere, to utter honest words, to love liberty, to wage relentless war against slavery in all its forms, to love wife and child and friend, to make a happy home, to love the beautiful; in art, in nature, to cultivate the mind, to be familiar with the mighty thoughts that genius has expressed, the noble deeds of all the world, to cultivate courage and cheerfulness, to make others happy, to fill life with the splendor of generous acts, the warmth of loving words, to discard error, to destroy prejudice, to receive new truths with gladness, to cultivate hope, to see the calm beyond the storm, the dawn beyond the night, to do the best that can be done and then to be resigned — this is the religion of reason, the creed of science. This satisfies the brain and heart."
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Kris Kristofferson vs. Toby Keith, 2003, as told by Ethan Hawke in Rolling Stone.
STANDING BACKSTAGE AT THE BEACON Theatre in New York, leaning against a crumbling brick wall in the dark, I could barely see Kris Kristofferson standing to my left. Willie Nelson was in the shadows to my right. Ray Charles was standing beside Willie, idly shifting his weight back and forth. A bit farther along the wall were Elvis Costello, Wyclef Jean, Norah Jones, Shelby Lynne, Paul Simon and respective managers, friends and family. Everybody was nervous and tight. We were there for Willie Nelson’s 70th birthday concert in 2003.
Up from the basement came one of country music’s brightest stars (who shall remain nameless). At that moment in time, the Star had a monster radio hit about bombing America’s enemies back into the Stone Age.
“Happy birthday,” the Star said to Willie, breezing by us. As he passed Kristofferson in one long, confident stride, out of the corner of his mouth came “None of that lefty shit out there tonight, Kris.”
“What the luck did you just say to me?” Kris growled, stepping forward.
“Oh, no,” groaned Willie under his breath. “Don’t get Kris all riled up.”
“You heard me,” the Star said, walking away in the darkness.
“Don’t turn your back to me, boy,” Kristofferson shouted, not giving a shit that basically the entire music industry seemed to be flanking him.
The Star turned around: “I don’t want any problems, Kris – I just want you to tone it down.”
“You ever worn your country’s uniform?” Kris asked rhetorically.
“What?”
“Don’t ‘What?’ me, boy! You heard the question. You just don’t like the answer.” He paused just long enough to get a full chest of air. “I asked, ‘Have you ever served your country?’ The answer is, no, you have not. Have you ever killed another man? Huh? Have you ever taken another man’s life and then cashed the check your country gave you for doing it? No, you have not. So shut the fuck up!” I could feel his body pulsing with anger next to me. “You don’t know what the hell you are talking about!”
“Whatever,” the young Star muttered.
Ray Charles stood motionless. Willie Nelson looked at me and shrugged mischievously like a kid in the back of the classroom.
Kristofferson took a deep inhale and leaned against the wall, still vibrating with adrenaline. He looked over at Willie as if to say, “Don’t say a word.” Then his eyes found me.
“You know what Waylon Jennings said about guys like him?” he whispered.
I shook my head.
“‘They’re doin’ to country music what pantyhose did to finger-fuckin’.”
(source)
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Imagine Anansi coming to you in times of trouble.
“Anger gets shit done,” Anansi reminded you. And you were right - you were angry.
You were angry at injustice. You were angry at police brutality. You were angry at the president. You were angry at the people who defended racism like it was an opinion rather than a hate crime.
So you took up your sign and you marched. You blended in with the hundreds, thousands of other people in your city doing the same, with Anansi marching right beside you, reminding you that this was how change happened. You might not be able to change everyone’s mind, there was always going to be at least one voice against yours, but goddamn it, you could be louder than them. You could make sure that your message was heard. You could make sure that your anger was placed into productivity. You could shout on behalf of the many people who were not here anymore because of prejudice.
And most of all, you would walk down those streets because your tax dollars paid for those streets, for these corrupt police officers, and you would show them that you were not going to be done being angry until change was made. You were not going to give up, or let yourself be silenced.
Anger will get shit done.
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“Sex loses all its power and magic when it becomes explicit, mechanical, overdone, when it becomes a mechanistic obsession.”
- Anais Nin
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Jeannette Arroyo - http://jaymamon.tumblr.com - https://www.artstation.com/jeannettearroyo - http://www.cartoonbrew.com/artist-of-the-day/jeannette-arroyo-144876.html - https://www.patreon.com/BlackwaterComic - https://twitter.com/JaymamonJ
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Everything I Have To Tell You About Love by Neil Gaiman
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Magik by Adi Granov. Emerald City ComicCon
🗡 🗡 🗡
Our friendly neighborhood @osmiumalloybadass is at ECCC commissioning Illyana art and good enough to share it with us here. Dang, this is a nice piece of art to have.
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