As if we didn’t get enough of white folks trying to interpret and knock down racial barriers with twerking, along comes Times Magazine giving their two cents. On Wednesday Time Magzine published an online article by Katy Steinmetz titled, "This Is What ‘Bae’ Means". The article was written in response to Pharrell’s current single, 'Come Get it Bae', featuring the poster child of rich whites gone wild, Miley Cyrus.
The article seemed to be written from an honest place of confusion that most people face when they don’t speak slang, live near an urban neighborhoods, or are trying to appropriate urban culture, but the more than obvious headline doesn’t stop Steinmetz from giving a less than brilliant interpretation of ‘Bae’. Katy writes, "Others argue that bae is simply a shortened version of babe, which would similarly account for the rare ae juxtapostion. Slangsters do love to embrace the “dropped letter” versions of slang words. When cool gets old, there is coo. When crazy gets tiresome, there is cray. You could do me a solid, or just do me a sol".
Although it’s not the first time modern day slang has been borrowed from the urban community and worn out, social media was set ablaze by the audacity of Times Magazine and Katy Steinzmeet, leading to the creation of a hashtag funnier than the Paula Dean attack, Hello #TimeTitles! I even got in on the fun, and came up with some non-sense. Listed Below are some popular tweets & my personal favorites from the hashtag craze.
THANK YOU KATY STEINMETZ
Last night I screamed my lungs out, rapped and sang every lyric, and kept myself from fainting. From the moment I arrived at Met Life Stadium, I was asking myself if this was real? I spent $125 on tour merchandise; that’s how excited I was and sad that it would end in less than three hours. I haven’t seen Beyonce since her very first solo concert, when I was 13 years old. I also was anxious to see Jay-Z for the first time. I had floor seats for a decent price, but I was kind of irritated that I basically had to stand on my chair the whole time because of others standing on their chair. Either way, I enjoyed my edges getting snatched by Queen Bey and Hova.
When I first entered college, I joined a women’s club on campus known as L.E.A.D., which stood for Ladies with Emphasis on Achievement and Distinction. The group took the time out to help women of color on campus by holding programs to bring us together as sisters, and sometimes that included watching out for an overly drunk freshman at a party. I’ve been to my fair share of parties and watched girls get sloppy wasted, vomit in basements, and get walked home to their dorm with a group of friends. During my first semester in college, I became that drunken girl at a party full of strangers. I happened to be on a date, if you want to call it that, and we were headed to his friend’s house for a typical weekend get together. I didn’t attend a big party school, so the parties were never so big that you didn’t recognize the individuals on campus. I had a heated argument with my date on the way to his friend’s house, which drove me to take a few shots. The angrier I became, the more I took shots and attempted to mask my feelings.
Can I tell you that THERE IS A GOD? Thankfully, I was amongst many people that were willing to take care of my drunken ass, make sure I got home, and my date even forgave me for being an embarrassment in front of his friends. It was a story I could add to my college list without being mocked on social media, and laugh about it later. My biggest fear entering college was getting slipped a roofie and possibly ending up date raped, which is why I always turned down drinking and would rather be the DD. I was always aggressive towards guys at parties when I’d see them feeling up a girl who could barely stand, or I’d make an attempt to nurse a complete stranger back to sobriety in the middle of a banging party. I never wanted to have a guilty conscience that I ignored a potential rape victim.
A few months ago, a tragic event happened where 300 Nigerian girls were kidnapped by military forces in Africa. While celebrities and prominent figures used social media and the #bringbackourgirls to raise awareness to the situation, it seemed as if the new sources let it go under the radar even after they were allegedly found. Just when you thought it was over, the world continues to showcase why the internet is no place for children, and why we have to be the Claire Huxtable’s and Mother Theresa’s too these little girls. I scrolled across a FaceBook post reporting an incident surrounding the internet’s ability to turn everything into a joke, including Rape. After a twisted picture of a 16-year-old girl named Jada went viral, it was then confessed by the victim that she had been raped. Unaware of if she had been roofied, a picture of her unconscious naked body floated around twitter and Instagram, while young people everywhere rushed to make memes and recreate the pose using the hashtag ‘#JadaPose’.
It amazes me how little remorse people felt about a naked teen’s body surfacing in cyber space with the ability to repost it, but more importantly I was confused on why Rape Culture continues to be something we let our young adults poke fun at or ignore? Even if this young lady had not been raped, why aren’t parents still monitoring their underage kids parties, teaching young boys and girls to respect their self, as well as their peers? We need to teach more kids how to stop being so coward that they would even condone their ‘friends’ raping someone or even being dragged off to get raped. Where does the conversation start on teaching our young boys not to rape or violate a female? Cyber responsibility is an issue that the parents of the 90s generation don’t have much expertise in educating their growing teens about, because the internet wasn’t around, but that doesn’t make an excuse for educating your child about rape, when to speak up and when to say no.
For further information about the story, you can visit: http://thinkprogress.org/health/2014/07/10/3458564/rape-viral-social-media-jada/
If you have interest in being apart of the #SavingOurDaugthers campaign then visit: http://savingourdaughters.org/
#HappyBirthdayDustin photo’s shot by myself in Central Park. Visit www.framedred.weebly.com for more pictures of any inquiries about booking a session.
Scandal fans, meet Veronica Mars. After an unfortunate cancellation on the CW network in 2007, the Veronica Mars television show turned film reunited our favorite cast members. To bring the non VM fans up to speed, the murder mystery show was created by Rob Thomas who launched a kick starter campaign 6 years after the series ended with Kirsten Bell. Before Olivia Pope, there was Veronica Mars; a popular teen turned outcast after her best friend’s death, which resulted in Mars pouring her emotions into being the town’s pain in the butt crime solver under her Detective father. Kirsten Bell reprises her lead role as the snoopy private investigator teen from Neptune, California, now living in New York as a post Stanford graduate.
The movie revolves around Veronica who is dreading her 10 year high school reunion, and returning to Neptune to lend a favor to ex-boyfriend Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring). Alongside Veronica are her loyal side-kicks and lovable best friends Mac (Tina Majorino) and Wallace (Percy Daggs III), as well as bad boy Weevil (Francis Capra). If this were scandal, Mac and Wallace would be Abby and Harrison, and Weevil would clearly be Huck. Luckily for fans more than a few familiar faces join VM on screen. Within the first thirty minutes we see that old habits die hard with multiple characters, including Veronica who hasn’t worked a case in years.
The downside of this movie for VM fans is that you don’t get to see the evolution of the series regulars, nor do you want it to end, but the upside is that not a single hair was out of place. Veronica and the gang pick back up with the same wit, drama and relationships that ended back in ’07, just more grown up. The audience cheered, groaned, aww-ed and laughed through-out the entire movie. While it may be a puzzle or
bore to those oblivious about the series, the film translated as a smooth watch. I compare my excitement for this film to the joy we all felt when it was announced that Sex and The City would be hitting the big screen back in 08. As satisfied as I was with the film, I secretly wish the show would get picked back up by a network or even become a Netflix series for all the Marshmallows. Hell, I’m willing to donate to a kick starter fund to get a short series made.
Recently I went on an entertaining read of why I dislike people being so concerned with others weight, particularly about those endowed with a few rolls or stretch marks. Any time I discuss weight, I try to uplift and be realistic but also promote self love. I was inspired to share with you a few reasons why my challenges with weight helped me growing up.
1. FAT BUILDS CHARACTER! The most important advice I could ever give you… Growing up fat or chubby instantly puts eyes on you, often testing your strength. I was thrown to the wolves in grade school, and although it took me a while I eventually learned how to speak up, talk mess, and stand firm in who I was. Words of Wisdom: Think enough of yourself to be your own cheerleader & confidante but don’t think too much of yourself that your ego stifles your growth!
2. FAT RIDS LOSERS! Dating is overrated, especially when you have boys shunning you because you can’t be their personal Kim Kardashian. I avoided MANY jerks once I realized my fat was a personal cock blocker. In HS this popular football player tried to secretly spit game, and put on a charade to his friends like I was a thirst bucket. Enjoy me because I’m pretty/amazing, and not because you are a chubby chaser. I’m not saying everyone who prefers you fit is superficial, but if you can’t see past my size, then we can’t go together. Words of Wisdom: Stop looking for your idea of beauty in others, and relying on the perspective of those whom do or don’t find you attractive.
3. WHY CAN’T WE BE FRIENDS? People will try to convince you that you shouldn’t be happy, comfortable or even confident being pleasantly plump; THEY GOTTA GO! Unlike my non-existent list of boyfriends, my friendships and associates were plentiful. I had to endure friendships were I was talked about behind closed doors, and some that were bold enough to try and embarrass me in public. I had girl friends who pursued my crushes because they discredited my beauty and ability to physically attract guys. Words of Wisdom: Fat slurs are just as important as sexual/gender/racial slurs. Don’t be afraid to axe phony friends because real ones do exist.
4. FAT IS COMEDY! If you can’t beat them with your fist, then join them in laughter and hit them with a few shady punch lines. In 5th grade I decided I’d use my weight to intimidate people. (Now before you laugh this is coming from the mind of a 10-year-old) That lasted until I ran all my real friends away, but I improved on my mama jokes. Words of Wisdom: You don’t have to Chris Brown anyone or become Monique, but learn to laugh at yourself and check people when necessary.
5. FAT IS A CROWD SILENCER. I loved dancing, and it really became a confidence booster for me. If I had a dime for everyone who assumed I couldn’t physically slay a dance floor because of my weight… you know the rest. It’s a breath of fresh air to see plus size women being their own Sasha Fierce. Watch out for the BIG GIRLS! Monique’s book “Skinny Women Are Evil” taught me: Whatever you do, do it well. Words of Wisdom: Stop letting your weight limit you.
Now go be fabulous in you double digits! If you don’t like what you see when you wake up, change it; just make sure you’re changing personally for the better and not for Social Media likes.
Choosing a blog name was a struggle that I wouldn’t put on my worst enemy; there’s levels to this! Every since my mother bought our first desktop computer, I’ve hated creating screen names. I created my first email address at 12 years old, prematurely choosing one based off my favorite cartoon character. Almost 12 years later, I still occupy that immature email address due to my dislike for drastic change, along with four more various social and personal accounts.
Creating ratchet screen names is a guilty pleasure no one wants to admit too, and you laugh or wince every time you tell your friends to follow you via social networks. I was cursed with constantly creating corny screen names the moment I made my first BlackPlanet account; it didn’t stop there. I obsessed over what to call myself when I dance battled, especially once So You Think You Can Dance aired. I guess you can say I was trying to “brand” myself before I was aware it was a thing.
I ran through ridiculous chat room, message board, and social networking names until I found Twitter. It wasn’t until I created my Twitter account, Ohtwiddlesticks, that I actually enjoyed something I named. It just made sense to me, not to mention it helped spark a few conversations once I entered college. Twiddlesticks became my nick name on campus, and I eventually earned ‘Dancing Machine’ from being the life of too many college parties. So, why AFROvocative?
My hair became a conversation piece that I didn’t plan for once I went natural in 2010, which helped me find my voice as a young black female. I felt that it made me likeable, and even funny according to some. My Afro gave me a new edge, and most importantly it is provocative.
I named my afro Sasha, because she is every bit of fierce.