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  • to be sorted later » weirdos, princes, witches & bitches

    to be sorted later » weirdos, princes, witches & bitches

    I'm sitting here with Mufasa on my lap, listening to Gregory Porter and drinking a glass of rosé, feeling classy as all fuck. Jazz! Wine! Cats! 

    There's so much to talk about, so much to sort. I was traveling the last couple weekends, but trust me that I have not completely snoozed on everything, such as:

    LEMONADE, hello, hi. 🍋


    Ted Cruz visited my hometown and embarrassed himself, just a little. I'd feel bad for him, but ... I don't. ("Middle fingers up, put them hands high, wave him in his face, tell him, boy, bye.")

    Meanwhile, also, I've been sorting through the following.


    Hilton Als brings our collective thoughts on Beyoncé and Prince together in this piece for The New Yorker. 

    I couldn't stop thinking of Toni Morrison as I watched "Lemonade," and he also brilliantly points out that I should have been thinking of the late, great Octavia Butler, too. 

    More Hilton Als, more Prince. 

    "I Am Your Conscious, I Am Your Love," for Harper's. 

    You know all the spoken word moments in "Lemonade"? 

    Thank Somali-British poet Warsan Shire, Young Poet Laureate for London, for those powerful words. Thank Beyoncé for introducing even more people to her, as she did previously with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

    The Craft is 20 years old. 

    You should probably re-watch it, then read the A.V. Club's kickass article about the appeal of teen witches. An excerpt: 

    "The enduring appeal of The Craft, and the idea of the teen witch more generally, can be attributed to a fantasy of supreme female agency. It suggests there’s an unknowable mystery and dormant threat inside teenage girls that the rest of the world can’t possibly comprehend. The Craft allows viewers to imagine having control over—and taking revenge on—a restrictive, male-dominated world. The teen witch doesn’t reject the teen girl experience; if anything, the trope embraces the strange magic and intensity of female friendship. It challenges a society that both limits the power of young women and perceives them to be naturally limited. By having supernatural strength, these characters can defy a social structure that equates female adolescence with weakness and vulnerability."

    The Feminine: Act 1.

    "I know what kind you are—if I say no, I'm a bitch, say yes, I'm a slut." Anna Wise's new EP—and particularly, tracks "BitchSlut" and "Go"—is my everything tonight (second only to Gregory Porter taking me to the alley, of course). 


    What with all this talk of Prince, witches, bitches, & weirdos, the Warsan Shire poem, "For Women Who Are Difficult to Love," feels especially pertinent. All of Warsan Shire's work feels pertinent, no matter if I keep stubbornly typing poignant when what I mean is, in fact, pertinent.

    However, consider the origins of "poignant": 

    late Middle English: from Old French, literally ‘pricking,’ present participle of poindre, from Latin pungere ‘to prick.’

     You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful.

    It pricks, doesn't it?