Am I in love? — Yes, since I’m waiting.” The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: “I am the one who waits.
The way Wikipedia works is that the strongest articles cite facts and information in existing sources—in that way, the historic lack of attention to female artists in books, museums, and galleries perpetuates their continued erasure in an age of crowdsourcing.
Bitch just posted a nice overview about the feminist Wikipedia edit-a-thon coming up 2/1, if any Rookie readers/writers/coders want to get in on that. Wiki just posted a list of feminist work/artists and topics they seek to add or improve entries on—and the list makes me PSYCHED for 2/2. For my own selfish music-obsessive reasons, I really hope someday soon there can be an edit-a-thon for female musicians and artists. This seems like just the beginning.
When Madonna came out with her hit Vogue you knew it was over. She had taken a very specifically queer, transgendered, Latino and African-American phenomenon and totally erased that context with her lyrics, “It makes no difference if you’re black or white, if you’re a boy or girl.” Madonna was taking in tons of money, while the Queen who actually taught her how to Vogue sat before me in the club, strung out, depressed and broke. So if anybody requested Vogue or any other Madonna track, I told them, “No, this is a Madonna free zone! And as long as I’m DJ-ing you will not be allowed to Vogue to the decontextualized, reified, corporatized, liberalized, neutralized, asexualized, re-genderized, pop reflection of this dancefloor’s reality!
DJ Sprinkles, “Ball’r (Madonna-Free Zone)” from Midtown 120 Blues, 2008 (via seki-gahara)
I posted this back in June of last year and it’s more relevant than ever. Fuck Madonna.
let’s drag madonna some more
Reblogging because I literally know people negatively affected by Madonna’s song.
Bring me your troubles.
Bring me your cold, your tattered, your victims,
Your systematic injustice. Bring me your
Growing pains, the shit you get
For having a different name.
Bring my tales of your fathers
And mothers and children. Bring me excuses, lectures, and diatribes.
Bring me free-verse poems detailing how that boy on the corner broke your heart.
Bring me the violence we have done to you—
All the times you were stopped for Walking while Black.
Bring me the ache in your bones.
Bring me your sunburnt shoulders and
Paranoia. Bring me your fear.Bring me your wounds.
I cannot heal you.
I will listen.