Showing 1 - 5 of 5 posts found matching keyword: racism
June marks the 14th annual Wriphe.com Superman Month, and not a moment too soon! I think we all need to hear Superman's perspective on recent events.
Action Comics #179 was published in April 1953, making that PSA sixty-seven years old!
When are you going to start listening to Superman, America?
He sat back in his overstuffed easy chair and watched the giant Space Force rocket blast off on his television screen. He smiled. It was about time America got back in space – and with the largest rocket yet! It must have cost a pretty penny, but it was worth every cent.
Tomorrow couldn't get here soon enough. Around the water cooler, everyone'd be eagerly talking about today's launch. In the past, they'd've shared the experience on social media, but that was the past. Things were better now. Great, in fact. Better the internets should be shut down than continue to spew their hateful hoaxes and lies. Some people were stupid enough to fall for anything.
He belatedly realized he wouldn't be going to work tomorrow. Work was canceled, thanks to Tommy. The jerk had come down the Chinavirus on Friday, and the company was closed for quarantine. All the employees had been let go. Stupid Tommy. Didn't everyone know gargling a little bleach killed the virus? Oh, well. More time for golf, right?
Except that the course had been unplayable ever since The Wall had been finished and immigration had been outlawed. No one to cut the grass, they said. That's okay. He wasn’t a very good golfer anyway. At least now he didn’t have to lie to anyone about how many strokes he had taken; zero was the best number you could get on any hole.
The thought of exercise made him thirsty. He'd've liked a beer; all he had was the new official drink of America. There'd been an election on the issue. He'd meant to vote but couldn't take the time off from work. Heh. He had nothing but time now. It'd taken some getting used to, but vodka wasn't all bad.
The white rocket continued to slide up his television screen. So powerful, so beautiful, so white. Just like it ought to be. America sure was great again.
Neo-Nazis are coming to Newnan. And this used to be such a nice Southern town. By which I mean the kind that kept its racism private.
The city police department sent a letter to local businesses to let them know that the Nationalist Socialist Movement (NSM) has rented a city park for a rally on April 21. The city says it can't do anything to stop that, what with the First Amendment and all. Funny. The First Amendment didn't stop the county from spending millions of dollars a few years ago to try to prevent Starship, a sex toy retailer, from getting a business licence. Sex toys bad! Nazis okay.
The city seems much more worried about the Antifa groups that have already announced their intent to protest the rally. The local newspaper suggests that we should just politely ignore the racists in our midst. I mean, why would anyone protest against those clean-cut skinheads? They look like such nice boys. Nice, white boys.
The representative of the NSM told the paper that his group chose Newnan for no specific reason, but, boy, aren't we be worried that "they" are coming for our Confederate monuments? "Next thing you know, it will be the Vietnam Memorial or even our American flag." Um, no, no it won't. Frankly, if the monument to Confederate dead on our Court Square is the reason we have Nazis in town, I'm okay with seeing it go.
Some sides just don't have "very fine people."
Advertisements spotted in the March 1, 1918 edition of The Newnan Herald (formerly the Coweta Advertiser):
Hoover means DEATH to dust (and Germans)!
So are you saying that I should try smoking peanuts?
I am amused that "fit" appears in sarcastic quotes. I'm more amused that it says "eat our meats." *giggle*
This one's not funny. It's just racist.
As for why I was looking through 100-year-old newspapers, what can I say? I like to read incredibly inappropriate advertising. (More on that on Tuesday.)
In honor of Black Friday, I present the first appearance of an African-American in Gotham City in Batman #13 (1942). Batman had been on the scene for over three years before he encountered this fellow, but that's not to say that he had never interacted with minorities before. Batman had already battled several Chinamen, all of whom were intrinsically evil yellow monsters with limited magical abilities in as true a case of art imitating life as you're apt to find.
It should be noted that this large-lipped, bug-eyed fellow is a porter on a passenger train traveling between Gotham City's Grand Central Station and California. Therefore, he's several steps better off than most of the jobless, cut-throat Caucasians that fill Batman's exploits. And he is aware that something strange is afoot on the train, making him far cleverer than his clueless boss: the bumbling, white conductor.