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Triggers
Oct 26, 2017 16:19:33 GMT
via mobile
Post by TidusandYuna1983 on Oct 26, 2017 16:19:33 GMT
Didn't watch it yet but didn't the AL-Right name itself? Granted extreme lefists likes to lump everyone they disagree with into this camp... like how POkecharm did with me, remember? lol Me? A Socialist! Yes and the video does make that clear that the Alt-Right movement coined their own name. But it also points out that their ideology and beliefs and membership have been confused by the Left and the media to be mixed in with White Supremacists and other extremists and anyone right of center, especially those they don't agree with so that the entire conservative ideology is just seen as Alt or extreme. I'm a socialist too, but left wing extremists and freeloaders hate me.
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Post by Uesugi-dono on Oct 26, 2017 17:03:16 GMT
Yes and the video does make that clear that the Alt-Right movement coined their own name. But it also points out that their ideology and beliefs and membership have been confused by the Left and the media to be mixed in with White Supremacists and other extremists and anyone right of center, especially those they don't agree with so that the entire conservative ideology is just seen as Alt or extreme. I'm a socialist too, but left wing extremists and freeloaders hate me. Apparently me too.
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Post by endorbr on Oct 26, 2017 17:06:12 GMT
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Post by endorbr on Oct 27, 2017 1:07:12 GMT
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Post by endorbr on Oct 27, 2017 16:24:32 GMT
Kelly Clarkson: 'I Am a Whole Lot of Woman, and That's OK'Perfect example of why people want to label any kind of criticism these days as "shaming." Okay... so what she's admitting is that she's fat and she's not going to do anything to change that. True, her music should not be judged by her looks but at the same time half if not more of the music industry just like any of the arts is image based. We are constantly being told look at her, isn't she hot and desirable; this is what women should aspire to be like and what men should desire. Well... I look at this from 2005: Versus now in 2017: I'm not feeling desire. She's 35 and yes she's had two kids now, the last one born a year and a half ago so I get it. But why does that equal a shift in thought process to I don't have to worry about being healthy I can eat whatever I want and never do anything to worry about my weight and you shouldn't be able to say anything negative to me about it despite me working in an industry where they are constantly going to tell you how gorgeous I am and how my weight and health shouldn't matter cause that's none of your business FAT IS BEAUTIFUL!!! Well... while I agree people shouldn't give you shit about your weight because that is your business by the same token I could say you should stop trying to tell me how gorgeous you are and how much I should be wanting a piece of that. If you want the perception of you to be about the music then make it about the music. Now I believe that's what she is attempting to do which is laudable on her part but the industry is never going to learn this lesson.
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Post by endorbr on Oct 27, 2017 21:15:25 GMT
Judge OKs awards up to $1000 each for Baton Rouge protesters
Yeah great ruling idiot judge. What a wonderful precedent this is going to set. Fact of the matter still stands that these protesters were breaking the law and blocking a highway. So now not only are they getting off with no charges they're also getting a payout because their feelings got hurt when they were arrested after they refused to disperse and were roughed up when they resisted arrest.
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Post by endorbr on Oct 28, 2017 14:02:10 GMT
George Washington’s Virginia church taking down his memorial
Hate to say it but Trump was right again. Didn't even take that long. Why do we even bother with keeping any statues? Well... statues of anyone white at least. Might as well just be proactive I guess and go ahead and remove anything that isn't an MLK Jr statue just to be on the safe side. Wouldn't want anyone getting offended now. Well... anyone who isn't white anyway.
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Post by TidusandYuna1983 on Oct 28, 2017 15:36:24 GMT
George Washington’s Virginia church taking down his memorial
Hate to say it but Trump was right again. Didn't even take that long. Why do we even bother with keeping any statues? Well... statues of anyone white at least. Might as well just be proactive I guess and go ahead and remove anything that isn't an MLK Jr statue just to be on the safe side. Wouldn't want anyone getting offended now. Well... anyone who isn't white anyway. It sucks they're removing the statue of Robert E Lee. Especially since Lee was against slavery. One of my American ex girlfriends has proof she is a blood relative of Robert E Lee,and she was proud she had a 1/2 white,1/2 Asian boyfriend(me). The American civil war was a very complex period,many of the Union generals had the utmost respect for the Southern generals,and friends and family fought on opposite sides,because the civil war wasn't originally about slavery. But many SJWs refuse to accept the complexity of the situation,and have a childish ''anyone who respects the Confederacy is a racist'' attitude. When I was in America in 2001 and 2005,I made some friends whom I stayed in contact with for nearly a decade afterwards,but some of them unfriended me on Facebook just because I am opposed to banning the confederate flag. The ''Agree with me,or we have nothing to talk about mentality'' .
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Triggers
Oct 28, 2017 15:39:42 GMT
via mobile
Post by endorbr on Oct 28, 2017 15:39:42 GMT
George Washington’s Virginia church taking down his memorial
Hate to say it but Trump was right again. Didn't even take that long. Why do we even bother with keeping any statues? Well... statues of anyone white at least. Might as well just be proactive I guess and go ahead and remove anything that isn't an MLK Jr statue just to be on the safe side. Wouldn't want anyone getting offended now. Well... anyone who isn't white anyway. It sucks they're removing the statue of Robert E Lee. Especially since Lee was against slavery. One of my American ex girlfriends has proof she is a blood relative of Robert E Lee,and she was proud she had a 1/2 white,1/2 Asian boyfriend(me). The American civil war was a very complex period,many of the Union generals had the utmost respect for the Southern generals,and friends and family fought on opposite sides,because the civil war wasn't originally about slavery. But many SJWs refuse to accept the complexity of the situation,and have a childish ''anyone who respects the Confederacy is a racist'' attitude. When I was in America in 2001 and 2005,I made some friends whom I stayed in contact with for nearly a decade afterwards,but some of them unfriended me on Facebook just because I am opposed to banning the confederate flag. The ''Agree with me,or we have nothing to talk about mentality'' . There's no helping the simple minded and willfully stupid.
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Post by Uesugi-dono on Oct 29, 2017 8:16:36 GMT
This is what happens when Jezebel tells ghost stories.... this entitled Me, Me, Me bullshit; credited as entirely factual, from a juvenile mind that thinks it was always mature.
LilacWine
10/13/17 1:37pm
This is a little more creepy/disturbing than scary, but it’s something that still gives me chills when I think about it (and I try not to think about it very often). Note: All names have been changed.
From about 5th to 9th grade, my best friend Natalie and I were pretty much inseparable. We lived only a few streets away from each other in an idyllic little town in the midwest. The kind of place that feels like a living time capsule of the 1950’s: Charming houses with beautifully kept gardens… Huge old maple and oak trees lining every street… Neighbors who actually stop and greet each other as they walk their dogs or mow their lawns… Summer blocks parties, kids playing in the street until dinnertime… That sort of thing.
Natalie and I used to walk to and from school together every day, and I often stayed over at her house for an hour or two after school while my parents were still at work. I loved hanging out at her place because her mom was the sweetest person ever — she’d serve us delicious snacks, we’d tell her all about the latest middle school drama, and she’d even let us watch a tv show or play a computer game before we started our homework.
Natalie’s dad worked a lot and wasn’t around often, but whenever I did interact with him, something about him seemed… off. On a superficial level, he was perfectly nice and friendly — even funny. He had a great sense of humor and was always joking around with Natalie, me, and the rest of our friends on the few occasions that he was around. But even though I didn’t sense a single bit of discomfort from any of my close friends, I couldn’t help feeling uneasy in his presence.
For one thing, he was a bit too touchy feely. It was subtle, but I was always noticing it in little ways that made me slightly uncomfortable. Quick example: One weekend, he took me and Natalie and two of our friends to a cider mill. We picked apples, drank cider, and went on a hay ride. When the ride was over, Natalie’s dad was helping each of us off the side of the wagon, and I was last in line. Something about the way he grabbed my friends by the waist and let his hands linger just a touch too long once they were safely on the ground started to weird me out. When it was my turn, I quickly jumped off the wagon before he could touch me. He looked a little bewildered, but didn’t say anything.
Fast forward to Natalie’s 12th birthday party. She had a sleepover with about 10 girls, and we arranged our sleeping bags on the floor of her living room since it was the biggest room in the house. The living room wasn’t really closed off by any doors; It had a big opening that connected it seamlessly with the foyer/front hallway of the house. I was sleeping near that hallway, which I wasn’t pleased about as I preferred to sleep surrounded by people whenever I went to sleepovers (I’ve always been super afraid of the dark and liked having that “protection”, as silly as it sounds).
In the middle of the night, I’m awoken by a hand pressing on my arm. I didn’t jolt awake or anything, but I opened my eyes and turned my head to survey my fellow partygoers. They were all dead asleep, some even lightly snoring. Suddenly I heard quiet giggling behind me. Still lying down and now officially frightened, I quickly turned my body to face the foyer. The opening in the wall that connected the living room and foyer was a big, sweeping arch. On the right side of the arch, I could just barely see the top of a man’s head peeking out from behind the wall, only about three feet from the ground. Then I noticed his fingertips splayed out on the wooden floor. He was crouching. It was Natalie’s dad.
I froze. I honestly had no idea what to do. Was he just kidding around? Didn’t it occur to him how creepy this was? Do I say something or just awkwardly ignore it and try to fall back asleep? Being my timid, non-confrontational pre-teen self, I decided to go the latter route. I turned back on my other side, scooted in as close as I could to my friend sleeping next to me, and somehow managed to fall back asleep, despite being obviously and understandably petrified.
I’m not sure how long it was before I was woken up again, this time by a firm tapping on my temple. Knowing who it was this time around, I tried my best not to indicate that I was awake, struggling to keep my eyes closed and my breathing slow and deep. Again I heard that same stifled giggling. The sound was particularly disturbing because it was almost manic — like he thought this whole routine was absolutely hilarious and could barely contain himself. Even though it was coming from a grown man, it had all the giddiness of a 5 year old playing hide-and-go-seek with his older siblings.
Yet again, I had no idea what to do. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to acknowledge him, or what. I turned to face the foyer again, and just barely caught a glimpse of his head and fingers disappearing behind the wall in that same crouched position. More giggling. I quickly turned back and scooted even closer into my sleeping friend, partially waking her and causing her to shift around a bit. I hoped she would wake up completely, but she just turned over and quickly drifted back off. As I pulled my sleeping bag tighter over my shoulders, I heard what sounded like someone shuffling on all fours down the hallway.
I don’t remember how I got back to sleep that night, but somehow I did, and morning finally, mercifully arrived. Natalie’s parents made us all pancakes, and her dad was acting completely normal. He didn’t pay any particular attention to me, but didn’t make a point to ignore me either. Just interacted with me like he did with everyone else — Always smiley and jokey and friendly.
A couple months later, Natalie had another sleepover. This time I made sure to secure a sleeping spot in the exact center of everyone, far from the front hallway. But later that night, I abruptly woke up in the middle of a deep sleep for seemingly no reason. I had been sleeping on my back, and just suddenly opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, wide awake. Almost instantly, I was overcome with the most intense feeling of dread that I have ever experienced. I felt like I couldn’t move my limbs — like some invisible weighted blanket was holding my body down. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I slowly turned my head towards the front hallway.
As my eyes adjusted in the darkness, I could see Natalie’s mom and dad standing in the entryway, looking directly at me with the most angry, hateful expressions on their faces. They were positioned awkwardly far from each other — about two feet of space between them — with their arms stiff and straight at their sides. Even though they were a fair distance away from me, I’ll never forget how disturbing their faces looked, contorted into pure rage that only seemed to grow in intensity the longer I allowed myself to look. Their eyes kept narrowing and they were showing all their teeth the way a threatened dog would; gritting them so tightly I thought their jaws would crack.
After staring, frozen, for a good few seconds, I finally felt like I could move my arms and legs again. I quickly turned away from them and pulled my sleeping bag high up over my head, shaking. I barely slept the rest of the night, but I never heard any noise or movement from the hallway.
The next morning it was all homemade pancakes and warm smiles and utter normalcy yet again.
I never told Natalie about any of this, as I was pretty sure she would think I was either crazy or trying to prank her. Our friendship quickly faded a few years later anyway, which coincidentally was right around the time that her parents got divorced.
Recently Natalie and her parent’s divorce came up in conversation with my mom, who told me about a comment Natalie’s mom made to her years ago: Back when Natalie and I were still super close, we had actually taken a few small road trip vacations together with our moms. I guess at some point on one of these trips, our moms were gossiping about a particularly wealthy and impossibly perfect family that lived in our neighborhood and had a reputation of being somewhat pretentious. Natalie’s mom, skeptical about their apparent perfection, said, “Well, in this neighborhood you never know what goes on behind closed doors.”
The comment is innocent enough, but for me it adds an extra layer of creepiness given what I experienced with Natalie’s parents.
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Triggers
Oct 29, 2017 14:45:23 GMT
via mobile
Post by endorbr on Oct 29, 2017 14:45:23 GMT
This is what happens when Jezebel tells ghost stories.... this entitled Me, Me, Me bullshit; credited as entirely factual, from a juvenile mind that thinks it was always mature. LilacWine 10/13/17 1:37pm This is a little more creepy/disturbing than scary, but it’s something that still gives me chills when I think about it (and I try not to think about it very often). Note: All names have been changed. From about 5th to 9th grade, my best friend Natalie and I were pretty much inseparable. We lived only a few streets away from each other in an idyllic little town in the midwest. The kind of place that feels like a living time capsule of the 1950’s: Charming houses with beautifully kept gardens… Huge old maple and oak trees lining every street… Neighbors who actually stop and greet each other as they walk their dogs or mow their lawns… Summer blocks parties, kids playing in the street until dinnertime… That sort of thing. Natalie and I used to walk to and from school together every day, and I often stayed over at her house for an hour or two after school while my parents were still at work. I loved hanging out at her place because her mom was the sweetest person ever — she’d serve us delicious snacks, we’d tell her all about the latest middle school drama, and she’d even let us watch a tv show or play a computer game before we started our homework. Natalie’s dad worked a lot and wasn’t around often, but whenever I did interact with him, something about him seemed… off. On a superficial level, he was perfectly nice and friendly — even funny. He had a great sense of humor and was always joking around with Natalie, me, and the rest of our friends on the few occasions that he was around. But even though I didn’t sense a single bit of discomfort from any of my close friends, I couldn’t help feeling uneasy in his presence. For one thing, he was a bit too touchy feely. It was subtle, but I was always noticing it in little ways that made me slightly uncomfortable. Quick example: One weekend, he took me and Natalie and two of our friends to a cider mill. We picked apples, drank cider, and went on a hay ride. When the ride was over, Natalie’s dad was helping each of us off the side of the wagon, and I was last in line. Something about the way he grabbed my friends by the waist and let his hands linger just a touch too long once they were safely on the ground started to weird me out. When it was my turn, I quickly jumped off the wagon before he could touch me. He looked a little bewildered, but didn’t say anything. Fast forward to Natalie’s 12th birthday party. She had a sleepover with about 10 girls, and we arranged our sleeping bags on the floor of her living room since it was the biggest room in the house. The living room wasn’t really closed off by any doors; It had a big opening that connected it seamlessly with the foyer/front hallway of the house. I was sleeping near that hallway, which I wasn’t pleased about as I preferred to sleep surrounded by people whenever I went to sleepovers (I’ve always been super afraid of the dark and liked having that “protection”, as silly as it sounds). In the middle of the night, I’m awoken by a hand pressing on my arm. I didn’t jolt awake or anything, but I opened my eyes and turned my head to survey my fellow partygoers. They were all dead asleep, some even lightly snoring. Suddenly I heard quiet giggling behind me. Still lying down and now officially frightened, I quickly turned my body to face the foyer. The opening in the wall that connected the living room and foyer was a big, sweeping arch. On the right side of the arch, I could just barely see the top of a man’s head peeking out from behind the wall, only about three feet from the ground. Then I noticed his fingertips splayed out on the wooden floor. He was crouching. It was Natalie’s dad. I froze. I honestly had no idea what to do. Was he just kidding around? Didn’t it occur to him how creepy this was? Do I say something or just awkwardly ignore it and try to fall back asleep? Being my timid, non-confrontational pre-teen self, I decided to go the latter route. I turned back on my other side, scooted in as close as I could to my friend sleeping next to me, and somehow managed to fall back asleep, despite being obviously and understandably petrified. I’m not sure how long it was before I was woken up again, this time by a firm tapping on my temple. Knowing who it was this time around, I tried my best not to indicate that I was awake, struggling to keep my eyes closed and my breathing slow and deep. Again I heard that same stifled giggling. The sound was particularly disturbing because it was almost manic — like he thought this whole routine was absolutely hilarious and could barely contain himself. Even though it was coming from a grown man, it had all the giddiness of a 5 year old playing hide-and-go-seek with his older siblings. Yet again, I had no idea what to do. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to acknowledge him, or what. I turned to face the foyer again, and just barely caught a glimpse of his head and fingers disappearing behind the wall in that same crouched position. More giggling. I quickly turned back and scooted even closer into my sleeping friend, partially waking her and causing her to shift around a bit. I hoped she would wake up completely, but she just turned over and quickly drifted back off. As I pulled my sleeping bag tighter over my shoulders, I heard what sounded like someone shuffling on all fours down the hallway. I don’t remember how I got back to sleep that night, but somehow I did, and morning finally, mercifully arrived. Natalie’s parents made us all pancakes, and her dad was acting completely normal. He didn’t pay any particular attention to me, but didn’t make a point to ignore me either. Just interacted with me like he did with everyone else — Always smiley and jokey and friendly. A couple months later, Natalie had another sleepover. This time I made sure to secure a sleeping spot in the exact center of everyone, far from the front hallway. But later that night, I abruptly woke up in the middle of a deep sleep for seemingly no reason. I had been sleeping on my back, and just suddenly opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, wide awake. Almost instantly, I was overcome with the most intense feeling of dread that I have ever experienced. I felt like I couldn’t move my limbs — like some invisible weighted blanket was holding my body down. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I slowly turned my head towards the front hallway. As my eyes adjusted in the darkness, I could see Natalie’s mom and dad standing in the entryway, looking directly at me with the most angry, hateful expressions on their faces. They were positioned awkwardly far from each other — about two feet of space between them — with their arms stiff and straight at their sides. Even though they were a fair distance away from me, I’ll never forget how disturbing their faces looked, contorted into pure rage that only seemed to grow in intensity the longer I allowed myself to look. Their eyes kept narrowing and they were showing all their teeth the way a threatened dog would; gritting them so tightly I thought their jaws would crack. After staring, frozen, for a good few seconds, I finally felt like I could move my arms and legs again. I quickly turned away from them and pulled my sleeping bag high up over my head, shaking. I barely slept the rest of the night, but I never heard any noise or movement from the hallway. The next morning it was all homemade pancakes and warm smiles and utter normalcy yet again. I never told Natalie about any of this, as I was pretty sure she would think I was either crazy or trying to prank her. Our friendship quickly faded a few years later anyway, which coincidentally was right around the time that her parents got divorced. Recently Natalie and her parent’s divorce came up in conversation with my mom, who told me about a comment Natalie’s mom made to her years ago: Back when Natalie and I were still super close, we had actually taken a few small road trip vacations together with our moms. I guess at some point on one of these trips, our moms were gossiping about a particularly wealthy and impossibly perfect family that lived in our neighborhood and had a reputation of being somewhat pretentious. Natalie’s mom, skeptical about their apparent perfection, said, “Well, in this neighborhood you never know what goes on behind closed doors.” The comment is innocent enough, but for me it adds an extra layer of creepiness given what I experienced with Natalie’s parents. Since you said it was from Jezebel I kept waiting for the racist sexist ablist ageist whatever ist rub that never came. It's just some story that this woman thinks she remembers experiencing when she was like 12 while she was half asleep. You know why they were acting all perfectly normal the next morning? Because none of that happened. She had her imagined California sexual assault that wasn't anything real beyond the sleep addled mind of a pre-teen. Definitely me me me.
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Post by Uesugi-dono on Oct 29, 2017 14:57:03 GMT
"her imagined California sexual assault" - lol
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Post by endorbr on Oct 29, 2017 15:00:29 GMT
"her imagined California sexual assault" - lol There's a good band name. LOL.
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Post by Uesugi-dono on Oct 30, 2017 13:49:13 GMT
How about this?
#NYCStripperStrike: New York City's Black Exotic Dancers Strike Against Colorism, Unfairness
So, in short, black strippers aren't getting tipped as well as whites and latinas.
So what?
You know who else doesn't get tipped as much? Old women, ugly bitches, and cunts with bad attitudes.
You've gotta play to your audience; if the audience doesn't find you attractive that's not colorism, whatever the fuck that means. What's the solution here? All patrons are required to tip every dancer? Don't see that working. Clubs have to pay black dancers more because they aren't attractive to enough people to make as much as (and now please welcome to the stage:) Destiny©? Or make all the dancers "tip out" and pool their tips, dividing them equally like Papa Stalin intended?
This fucking world, man. I know it's hard on a sistah. Unless you're crazy hot (and probably mixed) even your own men find lighter skin more attractive. Hold on, before you blow a gasket screaming about endemic white supremacy, that's gonna end up being just a human thing. ALL ACROSS THE WORLD THIS IS THE SAME. In every culture around the world people tend to find lighter skin more attractive.
Why?
Plenty of people will say it's because of colonialism and western culture but is it really? I mean it's far from universal; plenty of men I know like bronzed skin. Most people I know prefer tans to pale skin. In fact the palest among us (Where my Celts at?) are often viewed as sickly with a skin tone that is similarly avoided. SO what's going on here?
(Buckle up, Anthropologist Professor Uesugi is on the case)
At the dire risk of offending people I come at this from a biological, social, and simply human point of view. Do you wanna bone a sick person? I mean a really sick, like terminally ill/pale as death person? Like literally IS diseased? No, you do NOT. Why? Because biology is telling us we might catch whatever they have. This is why, even among white people, a healthy skin tone is desirable. Tan or flushed skin indicates that this person spends time OUTSIDE of the cave... doing healthy person shit. So game on! Bone away, mi amigo, cause that human is A-OK to swap fluids with!
But wait.... what if that person were filthy? I mean COVERED in mud and shit? Like hadn't bathed and was caked in dirt? Would you wanna bone that person? We're the aquatic branch of the ape family (webbed fingers, sub-dermal fat, streamlined body hair, gasp reflex) so we're evolutionarly acclimated to water. Look at a modern human on vacation; where do they like to go? The Beach. Why? Because for 100 thousand years... since before we were even human, the water has been our ally. "Look! A man-eating Saber-bear! Run into the surf so he can't eat us!!" Shit worked too. You know what else worked? Shellfish. Fish in general. The Omega fatty acids were serious brain food, adding to our big brains and making us even smarter. Smart enough to associate filthy, dirty skin with uncleanliness and bacteria, or disease.
Which kind of skin is it easier to see dirt on?
Do you see where I'm going with this? Maybe, JUST MAYBE, humanity has always artificially selected for lighter skin because the people that did wound up with cleaner, healthier mates. Especially after our big-brained selves learned to make the weapons and clothing to leave the safety of the surf and walk out across the land and conquer the fucking world. Away from water keeping clean became important and if your mate had mammoth shit caked all over him and you didn't notice it because his skin tone is approximately identical to said shit then YOU might get sick from whatever nasty germs live in mammoth shit.
This was made a LOT easier when invading Homo Sapiens interbred with Homo Neanderthalensis, who happened to have pale skin and red hair. (Dem Thals...) The result spread all over the world, leaving their darker skinned cousins in Africa and everywhere they went local cultures STILL seem to prefer lighter skin than whatever the "norm" is.
China. Japan. India. Pakistan. The Middle East.
Name a place... Rwanda.... it's still true. The world over.
Now this is either because Amerikkka exports White Supremacy in its pop culture, as some would have you believe, or for a much more base, primal, subconscious, and BANAL reason; it's hard to see filth on really dark skin.
You make the call.
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Post by TidusandYuna1983 on Oct 30, 2017 14:01:59 GMT
How about this? #NYCStripperStrike: New York City's Black Exotic Dancers Strike Against Colorism, UnfairnessSo, in short, black strippers aren't getting tipped as well as whites and latinas. So what? You know who else doesn't get tipped as much? Old women, ugly bitches, and cunts with bad attitudes. You've gotta play to your audience; if the audience doesn't find you attractive that's not colorism, whatever the fuck that means. What's the solution here? All patrons are required to tip every dancer? Don't see that working. Clubs have to pay black dancers more because they aren't attractive to enough people to make as much as (and now please welcome to the stage:) Destiny©? Or make all the dancers "tip out" and pool their tips, dividing them equally like Papa Stalin intended? This fucking world, man. I know it's hard on a sistah. Unless you're crazy hot (and probably mixed) even your own men find lighter skin more attractive. Hold on, before you blow a gasket screaming about endemic white supremacy, that's gonna end up being just a human thing. ALL ACROSS THE WORLD THIS IS THE SAME. In every culture around the world people tend to find lighter skin more attractive. Why? Plenty of people will say it's because of colonialism and western culture but is it really? I mean it's far from universal; plenty of men I know like bronzed skin. Most people I know prefer tans to pale skin. In fact the palest among us (Where my Celts at?) are often viewed as sickly with a skin tone that is similarly avoided. SO what's going on here? (Buckle up, Anthropologist Professor Uesugi is on the case) At the dire risk of offending people I come at this from a biological, social, and simply human point of view. Do you wanna bone a sick person? I mean a really sick, like terminally ill/pale as death person? Like literally IS diseased? No, you do NOT. Why? Because biology is telling us we might catch whatever they have. This is why, even among white people, a healthy skin tone is desirable. Tan or flushed skin indicates that this person spends time OUTSIDE of the cave... doing healthy person shit. So game on! Bone away, mi amigo, cause that human is A-OK to swap fluids with! But wait.... what if that person were filthy? I mean COVERED in mud and shit? Like hadn't bathed and was caked in dirt? Would you wanna bone that person? We're the aquatic branch of the ape family (webbed fingers, sub-dermal fat, streamlined body hair, gasp reflex) so we're evolutionarly acclimated to water. Look at a modern human on vacation; where do they like to go? The Beach. Why? Because for 100 thousand years... since before we were even human, the water has been our ally. "Look! A man-eating Saber-bear! Run into the surf so he can't eat us!!" Shit worked too. You know what else worked? Shellfish. Fish in general. The Omega fatty acids were serious brain food, adding to our big brains and making us even smarter. Smart enough to associate filthy, dirty skin with uncleanliness and bacteria, or disease. Which kind of skin is it easier to see dirt on? Do you see where I'm going with this? Maybe, JUST MAYBE, humanity has always artificially selected for lighter skin because the people that did wound up with cleaner, healthier mates. Especially after our big-brained selves learned to make the weapons and clothing to leave the safety of the surf and walk out across the land and conquer the fucking world. Away from water keeping clean became important and if your mate had mammoth shit caked all over him and you didn't notice it because his skin tone is approximately identical to said shit then YOU might get sick from whatever nasty germs live in mammoth shit. This was made a LOT easier when invading Homo Sapiens interbred with Homo Neanderthalensis, who happened to have pale skin and red hair. (Dem Thals...) The result spread all over the world, leaving their darker skinned cousins in Africa and everywhere they went local cultures STILL seem to prefer lighter skin than whatever the "norm" is. China. Japan. India. Pakistan. The Middle East. Name a place... Rwanda.... it's still true. The world over. Now this is either because Amerikkka exports White Supremacy in its pop culture, as some would have you believe, or for a much more base, primal, subconscious, and BANAL reason; it's hard to see filth on really dark skin. You make the call. Funny because I've always thought men tip the women they find most attractive,and the women they like. It's not the fault of the customers or employer if a lesser number of men find black women attractive.
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