Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Untitled (Perfect Lovers) 1991. Clocks, paint on wall.
Untitled (Perfect Lovers) consists of two clocks, which start in synchronisation, and slowly, inevitably fall out of time due to the failure of the batteries and the nature of the mechanism. In a moving comment on his personal experiences, the piece refers to Gonzalez-Torres’ HIV positive partner Ross Laycock, and his slow decline and inevitable death due to AIDS. The clocks act as two mechanical heartbeats; representative of two lives destined to fall out of sync, and holds a poignant poetry about personal loss and the temporal nature of life.
“Don’t be afraid of the clocks, they are our time, time has been so generous to us…We conquered fate by meeting at a certain time in a certain space…we are synchronized, now forever. I love you.”
What Happens When Businesses Use Black Tragedies To Sell Products
- FCKH8 creates a super sarcastic and oddly cheery video “Hey White People: A Kinda Awkward Note to America by #Ferguson Kids,” to sell “racism’s not over but I’m over racism” shirts and claims $5 from each shirt is going to anti-racism charities. The t-shirt slogan is highly suspect and does nothing to support anti-racism but…yeah. Ok.
- Colorlines does a post saying "ummmm there’s something sketchy about using cute black kids from Ferguson to sell t-shirts and this doesn’t really address any issues"
- After FCKH8 lists Race Forward (the organization that produces Colorlines) as one of the organizations set to receive a portion of the shirt profits, Race Forward releases a statement on Facebook that basically says “we don’t know these people, they haven’t given us any money and we’re not ok with them using our name to sell t-shirts”
- Mike Kon from FCKH8 posts a super passive aggressive comment on the Race Forward Facebook page which essentially says, “we just wanted to use a national tragedy to sell some shirts and make a viral video. we didn’t know that we actually had to care about racism or address issues in order for people to be satisfied. don’t you dare critique my allyship or we’ll just take it elsewhere”
Holy. Fucking. SHIT.
Sabrina Reid just put me on to a police dash cam video from South Carolina regarding an incident that occurred between Levar Jones and a state trooper on September 4, 2014.
The video shows a state trooper pulling up to a gas station as Jones gets out of his car.
The trooper yells for Jones to produce his license.
Jones bends into his car to get his license and the trooper opens fire and strikes the man.
Jones, in shock, backs away from the car WITH HIS HANDS IN THE AIR.
In a stunning act of inhumanity, THE TROOPER CONTINUES TO FIRE UPON JONES—WHO CLEARLY HAS HIS HANDS UP.
Jones falls to the ground and the fucking trooper yells “Get on the ground!”
The wounded Jones, already on the fucking ground, says to the trooper, “I was getting my license. You said ‘get [my] license.”
The trooper continues to treat Jones as though he were guilty of some heinous crime, talking to him as though he had already been tried, convicted, and sentenced.
He walks over to Jones and tells him to put his hands behind his back.
Jones asks, “What did I do??”
The trooper ignores him and continues to tell him to put his hands behind his back.
“Are you hit?” the trooper asks.
“I think so,” the confused Jones says. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Why did you shoot me?” Jones asks.
“Well, you dove head first back into your car.”
NO HE DIDN’T. HE FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS TO RETRIEVE HIS LICENSE.
“I was telling you to get out of your car,” the trooper said.
Yes, but he SHOT Jones at CLOSE RANGE even before Jones had the chance to COMPLY with the BRAND NEW ORDER the trooper gave to get out of the car. He literally FIRED ON JONES WHILE HE WAS TELLING HIM TO GET OUT OF THE CAR.
….
Look, I’m fucking tired.
I’m tired of marching.
I’m tired of praying.
I’m tired of talking.
I’m tired of singing spirituals.
I’m tired.
person: im just throwing my opinion out there
me: *slaps opinion out of the air* not in my house
if anybody asks me why i hate men, i’m just gonna redirect them to this post.
it’s pretty fucking obvious that men only want to invest in breast cancer research to further degrade, objectify, and jerk off to body parts they already feel 100% entitled to. that’s what is at stake for them.
what about the women whose “tatas” weren’t saved? how must they feel being surrounded by awareness ads that focus more on keeping women’s sexy-sexy-titties-to-continue-titillating-the-males than saving real life human beings and helping survivors?
If anyone’s wondering, those posts came from here. It’s a forum for breast cancer support. Give it a read, and you’ll see how many women are outright abandoned by their husbands, sometimes after being married for decades, because their “tatas” couldn’t be saved.
This culture of “save the tatas” even goes as far as the doctor’s offices themselves. Most doctors request that the husband be present during surgical consultations, as though he has an equal say in the patient-professional discussion.
If the woman is single, as was my case, doctors have actually recommended postponing surgery until she finds a relationship, because “it could be nearly impossible to find someone who accepts it [your unnatural tatas] in years to come”.
I’m 15 months post-mastectomy, and the date I had this past week was the first time since then that a guy hadn’t reacted negatively to my scars. The relief was so overwhelming that I was fighting back tears. When I told him —essentially warning him that my body wasn’t what he must be expecting — I felt so guilty; it seemed to have the same weight and shame as telling someone I had some sort of an incurable STI or a felony record.
I shouldn’t have felt that way. I should not be ashamed of choosing to live.
Thank you for your important commentary! I hope you find someone who can love you for who you are and admire your strength as a survivor.
Hey, this post may contain sexually explicit content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
nothing feels better than winning monopoly. not love. not sex. not free pizza. nothing
yes and it doesn’t compare to owning half the board and watching the light die from your friends eyes as you take their money and feel your friendship slowly deteriorate
I’m sorry, grits is not a Pennsylvania thing—I absolutely do not believe this is correct. And I refuse to believe this was done correctly because let’s be real, 90% of these should just say “pizza.”
