I’m not even going to touch… check that... I’m not even going to start to talk about the Full-Monty of subtextual and cultural things that are splashing about in the warm ideological soup of this item.
“I Ate A Burger Off The Ground” By Lydia Thomas
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Please….no more affirmative action performance art.
What the heck?
Cute gal. Aimed at a niche audience? Is she not being a comedienne?
She’s got that know-it-all insider smirk down pat.
OK, if that’s not a metaphor, I’m a grounded burger. And, to her credit, she didn’t pick it up off a toilet seat.
Don’t want to complain but I had to go into Adblocker Plus and select that video for special filtering to stop it from playing automatically every time I opened the page or went back and forth into comments. After the fourth time of that smarmy voice I cracked.
Ummm… so is it performance art? …really bad free verse poetry? …some weird affirmation by another lost “yout”? I give up but this was quite enough for this year.
I once ate a donut off the ground. But, that was in the desert.
I won’t write a poem of it; not talented that way.
This poem raised my consciousness, and caused me to check my privilege.
That’s what fine art is all about.
JWM
The girl most likely received a degree from an American university. Nothing there folks.
Now “that” folks, is edumucation. I bet that bich won’t be eaten’ no mo sammichs she find on the groundt. That shi’ta kil’ya.
She majored in getting-over-on-whiteyology. This confidently performed drivel reminds us of recent reporting from the U.K.:
Kipling’s “If–” Obliterated for Being Oppressive
Nope, not gonna click play on that. I’m just not.
I turned the sound down, wondering where it was coming from. Found it, and ain’t goin’ back .
Didn’t click the video, the pik was enough.
Doubtful that colored gurl has anything I need to hear.
BTW, didja know the army has a regulation on the allowable distance between cornrows?
I guess that whole “ID card” thing is passe now, eh?
Back in my day the colored doods used to slather their noggin with thick grease and then yank a tight wimminz hose down over it to compress it tight to the skall. Keep it on there all day, then at quitting time the hose came off, the grease got showered out, then the industrial grade hair dryer and garden rake did it’s thing and the next thing ya know the boy was sportin a 8″ fro, just like he was back on the stroll. Come back from town late, broke, and slather that grease on it all over again, every. dam. day.
I knew a kid outside of Philly in South Jersey who’d eat a worm if you gave him a nickel.
Maybe Maxine can nominate her for the 53rd “Poet Laureate of the United States” with an endorsement from Whoopie and Shelia Jackson Lee. At least she didn’t pick up a stray piece of pizza from Pappa Johns.
Well, I never picked up a burger off the ground and ate it, but my mother told me that back when I was three I liked to eat dirt. That was West Virginian dirt, which was apparently palatable to a 3 year old.
My mother taught me not to eat dirt, and helped me to grow up.
This poor woman still hasn’t grown up, that’s all. Or perhaps her mother never taught her not to eat stuff off the ground. Some mothers, unlike mine, aren’t very good at mothering.
Still, it doesn’t look to me like she’s suffered much; she’s still carrying a lot of extra pounds. Maybe she should continue to eat stuff off the ground, the next bout of food poisoning might teach her something!
One minute and thirty nine seconds to discuss what every kid and mother knows is “the five second rule”?
I recently went to the symphony where during an interlude a negro female “Spoken Word” artist(?) recited something misusing and misidentifying the pronunciation and meaning of some of the words, not on purpose. And all the white people dutifully clapped and all I could think was; ‘well how wonderful, it can almost speak English’. But as I looked around the smirks and laughter were reassuring as one of the people that was with me leaned over and said something not quietly at all that would garner her a trip to the re-education camps. It was the theater of the absurd. The symphony was otherwise excellent.
What’s the deal? How long is this infernal claptrap going to auto-start and hijack your website with this Kaffeeklatsch nonsense? Turn it off already! I want to hear the motorcycle.
She didn’t make the cut for the Towson debate team, poor thing.
Every time I visit this site this article along with the ad takes over. Does anyone else have this problem?
–> Joe, Yes. Same problem and I’ve got all protections enabled in Firefox. Perhaps Mr. Vanderleun can disable the video or remove it. Annoying is putting it politely.