Black and more than a sacrifice and beyond wonder. Bisexual. You want my gender ? I want my gender too.(Transmisogyny/racialized transmisogyny/transmisogynoir exempt) "What does it mean to kind of…to try to experiment with living…uhm…in the context of a world that is in so many ways uninhabitable ?" Saidiya Hartman in conversation with Fred Moten
I've recently spent 700$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this month and the first half of July, I'll need all 700$ by the end of the next three days
38/700$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
I wrote this (publicly available) essay indexing the ways through which Black cishet men reinvent themselves as "exceptional Negroes" propped up through self produced media. I also expand on the afterimage of the "exceptional Negress" and on Black women so eager for the spotlight they might empty themselves for it. Here are excerpts to help contextualize the essay:
Hereby, some (of many) Black men, numb to the unvisible grinding machinery of Black cisheteropatriarchy, have been creating crossfades of scripts about what it meant to truly being Black, male, powerful, alpha, and therefore "special". Subjects, or rather, psychic constraints, a willful bordering of the mind, multiply and echo. It's not so much about Black women as it is about powerlessness rehearsing itself into a cinematographic and libidinal "kingdom".
and
Through the evasion of a vexed Black masculinity and the greediness of being wanted, special Black men, as in "exceptional Negroes" cut through their "race" with a deep seated disgust, as a pledge of allegiance to the power holders they hauled themselves to. They want to be the only one, because to be the only one is always to be the best one. Thomas Clarence didn't so much sell his sister as he used her as a foil to accentuate his "exceptionalism", his "uniqueness", to use the interplay of shadow and light for a sharper photograph. Simultaneously prosperity pastor, good cop, "little child, running wild", New York lover, hip hop aficionado, megalomaniac, Eric Adams (mis)uses the signifiers of Blackness that he glues to his personal biography as a way to get New York to trust in the trials and tribulations that would made his a success story. And yet, he seems intent on prophesing his own rise to the top and his exceptionality, tying the death of the city to his personal failure, demanding to be believed in as a pastor herding his flock.
Candace Owens, as an "exceptional Negress", cannot be reduced to respectability politics; the slashing of Black victims of carceral violence, the open allegiance to white supremacy, are as much graves left for the thrill of having been the only one. Is that a home you're looking for ? Or a stepladder ? In any case, welcome to your own treachery.
I've recently spent 400$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this month and the first half of July, I'll need all 700$ by the end of the next three days
38/700$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
I've recently spent 400$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this week, I'll need all 400$ by the end of the day.
38/400$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
I've recently spent 400$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this week, I'll need all 400$ by the end of the day.
38/400$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
does anyone have $10 or anything for a family of 7, 4 who're disabled, 2 kids under 15, in a abusive house for food and $45 for moms meds that she MUST take to stay.... well, alive & shes been out of one day. She is a disabled lesbian who takes them for lupus, fibromyalgia and narcolepsy etc just shes got a Lotta health problems ok im begging you we need any help to get through this anything helps be it a dollar or less. also please help me give these kids food to eat this summer
I've recently spent 400$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this week, I'll need all 400$ by the end of the day.
38/400$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
I've recently spent 400$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this week, I'll need all 400$ by the end of the day.
38/400$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
I wrote this (publicly available) essay indexing the ways through which Black cishet men reinvent themselves as "exceptional Negroes" propped up through self produced media. I also expand on the afterimage of the "exceptional Negress" and on Black women so eager for the spotlight they might empty themselves for it. Here are excerpts to help contextualize the essay:
Hereby, some (of many) Black men, numb to the unvisible grinding machinery of Black cisheteropatriarchy, have been creating crossfades of scripts about what it meant to truly being Black, male, powerful, alpha, and therefore "special". Subjects, or rather, psychic constraints, a willful bordering of the mind, multiply and echo. It's not so much about Black women as it is about powerlessness rehearsing itself into a cinematographic and libidinal "kingdom".
and
Through the evasion of a vexed Black masculinity and the greediness of being wanted, special Black men, as in "exceptional Negroes" cut through their "race" with a deep seated disgust, as a pledge of allegiance to the power holders they hauled themselves to. They want to be the only one, because to be the only one is always to be the best one. Thomas Clarence didn't so much sell his sister as he used her as a foil to accentuate his "exceptionalism", his "uniqueness", to use the interplay of shadow and light for a sharper photograph. Simultaneously prosperity pastor, good cop, "little child, running wild", New York lover, hip hop aficionado, megalomaniac, Eric Adams (mis)uses the signifiers of Blackness that he glues to his personal biography as a way to get New York to trust in the trials and tribulations that would made his a success story. And yet, he seems intent on prophesing his own rise to the top and his exceptionality, tying the death of the city to his personal failure, demanding to be believed in as a pastor herding his flock.
Candace Owens, as an "exceptional Negress", cannot be reduced to respectability politics; the slashing of Black victims of carceral violence, the open allegiance to white supremacy, are as much graves left for the thrill of having been the only one. Is that a home you're looking for ? Or a stepladder ? In any case, welcome to your own treachery.
I wrote this (publicly available) essay indexing the ways through which Black cishet men reinvent themselves as "exceptional Negroes" propped up through self produced media. I also expand on the afterimage of the "exceptional Negress" and on Black women so eager for the spotlight they might empty themselves for it. Here are excerpts to help contextualize the essay:
Hereby, some (of many) Black men, numb to the unvisible grinding machinery of Black cisheteropatriarchy, have been creating crossfades of scripts about what it meant to truly being Black, male, powerful, alpha, and therefore "special". Subjects, or rather, psychic constraints, a willful bordering of the mind, multiply and echo. It's not so much about Black women as it is about powerlessness rehearsing itself into a cinematographic and libidinal "kingdom".
and
Through the evasion of a vexed Black masculinity and the greediness of being wanted, special Black men, as in "exceptional Negroes" cut through their "race" with a deep seated disgust, as a pledge of allegiance to the power holders they hauled themselves to. They want to be the only one, because to be the only one is always to be the best one. Thomas Clarence didn't so much sell his sister as he used her as a foil to accentuate his "exceptionalism", his "uniqueness", to use the interplay of shadow and light for a sharper photograph. Simultaneously prosperity pastor, good cop, "little child, running wild", New York lover, hip hop aficionado, megalomaniac, Eric Adams (mis)uses the signifiers of Blackness that he glues to his personal biography as a way to get New York to trust in the trials and tribulations that would made his a success story. And yet, he seems intent on prophesing his own rise to the top and his exceptionality, tying the death of the city to his personal failure, demanding to be believed in as a pastor herding his flock.
Candace Owens, as an "exceptional Negress", cannot be reduced to respectability politics; the slashing of Black victims of carceral violence, the open allegiance to white supremacy, are as much graves left for the thrill of having been the only one. Is that a home you're looking for ? Or a stepladder ? In any case, welcome to your own treachery.
eliza myrie, girl with a copper earring copper leaf, newsprint, paperclip
This (paywalled) instructions poem slashes through the epidermis between hysterical machinery and slippery flesh. As textures slip away, architectures of movements create a brittle unease. Here are excerpts to contextualize the poem.
Burrow into the bloat of a dismembered hallway. Grind the sequencing of slurred grins into horizon. Heap a fistful of fish bones atop a rusty gash. Sip the verticality of a viscous haziness. Whet the brittleness of stout and foamy women. Register the acridity of stifled car remains. Amend the machinery of a bellowing cocktail dress as it seeps through every soured waist.
I've recently spent 400$ on emergencies and it has strongly depleted my bank account (it is now so severely overdrafted that I have NOTHING ). And if I want to somehow survive this week, I'll need all 400$ by the end of the day.
38/400$ (edited to reflect the amount of financial support coming in. Thanks for the help and please keep it coming so I can finally wipe the slates clean when it comes to debt.)
I wrote this (public) poem as an entryway towards and a languishing within a complex webbing of ravenous hunger, sorrow and fleshiness. Here are excerpts to contextualize the poem:
What is it about pain
and wet cloth ?
Something funky,
like a castaway leg.
I want all the shelves against my skin,
electric.
Ghosts circling bruised hands,
mud.
and
We're fishermans in cool metal, swallowing a gutted road;
we understand the windows as broken fog.
When in doubt,
I reach for a fallen mood.
Women drenched in syrupy silk
leaving the raptured theater;
their muddled faces a dot of gaseous light.
If you love/ adore the poem, feel free to tip through:
The world is conceived as the special reserve of the ones who render and enforce its general impossibility
from The Universal Machine by Fred Moten
from top left to bottom right: Steffani Jemison, Lorna Simpson, Pamela Council, David Hammons, Mosie Romney, Aria Dean, Lorna Simpson, Carrie Mae Weems, Aria Dean, Steffani Jemison
