CHADWICK BOSEMAN the Oscars, Dolby Theatre, Los Angeles | March 4, 2018
Claire Keane
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

Janaina Medeiros
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
KIROKAZE
YOU ARE THE REASON
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we're not kids anymore.
Three Goblin Art
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izzy's playlists!
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Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything

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@m0rninggloryy
CHADWICK BOSEMAN the Oscars, Dolby Theatre, Los Angeles | March 4, 2018
#HE DID THAT
Remember when you had energy to do things? Those were some wild times
Here it is: how I got Horrible Histories banned from my school.
Sit down, I’m going to tell you a story.
Imagine a little girl, a 4’9” fifth grader with dimples and twinkling blue eyes. Oh, look, she’s going to the school library. Perhaps she’s going to rent Little Women, or read On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder!
Five minutes later, she exits the library holding a large stack of books called “Horrible Histories.”
And she’s thumbing through one called “Angry Aztecs.”
Record scratch. Freeze frame.
Yup, that’s me! The only history geek in a fifty mile radius. Living in Bumhicksville, Nowhere (name changed, but very accurate) is pretty terrible, and going to school at Caucasian Christian School of Goodness (again, a name change, but an apt description) is even worse. I snapped a bit while I was attending, due to the lack of permissible self-expression, but horrible histories were my guiding light.
Flash forward six months.
Our teacher wants us to do a history project about an ancient civilization. Since our curriculum is Eurocentricism.JPEG, most kids pick the Greeks or Romans (and completely skip over all of the good stuff, like orgies and gladiator fights) in their presentations.
I choose my favorite ancient civilization:
The Aztecs.
My teachers knew I’d been reading Horrible Histories, but what they didn’t know was that I’d also been avidly reading all about Aztec mythology. I walk up to the front of the class, pull on a turquoise skull mask, and raise my arms to the sky.
My teacher goes sheet white.
I give my presentation and skip nothing. Nothing. Every detail of the sacrifices, every dirty, disgusting part.
It all culminates when I point to the calendar.
“It’s May!” I shout, my little girl voice rising an octave. My teacher looks like she’s about to phone the police. “The Aztecs called May Toxcatl.”
No one moves or breathed. I continue blithely.
“Toxcatl was a month dedicated to the worship of the god of the night, Tezcatlipoca.” I’m still going. Everyone is afraid. Marie, one of my classmates, looks like she’s about to cry.
“They’d dress a brave warrior as the god all year, and at the end-“ I pull the red streamers out from behind my display, shouting: “They’d sacrifice him!”
The kids shriek as the streamers of “blood” roll out across the floor.
The principal walked in, hearing the commotion, just in time for me to really get into character and shout “BLOOD FOR THE GOD OF THE NIGHT!”
And that’s how Horrible Histories and all mentions of the Aztecs were banned from my school.
A fucking hero
“BLOOD FOR THE GOD OF NIGHT”
tiny little ones are amazing and also terrifying
i don’t have a nervous system. i am a nervous system
unm BLESS THE GRANDCHILDREN OF WHOMEVER MADE THIS
This is great! Kind of sums up Avatar perfectly. Forgiveness and compassion are powerful things.
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not to be dramatic or anything but i would fucking die for you violet
Donald Glover for New Yorker Magazine
I love the internet
a cinematic masterpiece.
I love good bread. Like flat bread???? Bitch! Then the bread that’s hard on the outside but soft in the inside….with the fucking butter?????…..bitch…………