Blackmoor Vituperative

ArmStreet just shared photos of a lovely set of actual functional SCA armor made of spring steel, approved by SCA wardens, providing better protection than a lot of approved SCA armors, and it got entirely sidetracked by smirking idiots complaining about “boob plate”.

Contrary to what some keyboard “experts” want you to believe, armor has often been decorative, as well as functional. The ancient Greeks were not the first or the last culture to incorporate an idealized human form into armor (for those that could afford it).

“Not dying is gender neutral” is a great sound bite, but it’s balderdash. Functional armor and decorative armor have never been mutually exclusive.

I have cat named Vixen. She is affectionate, and playful, and brings me toys so that we can play together. When I am gone, she misses me, and greets me when I get home.

Or she used to. About seven months ago, I brought home a kitten. I had hoped he would be a friend to her, a playmate and companion for when I’m not around. Unfortunately, he bullies her, relentlessly. She growls and runs, and he chases her. Or she growls and fights back, and they fight. This continues until I end it. She hates him, and she has good reason. She spends most of her time hiding from him. She doesn’t play anymore. And sometimes when I go to pick her up, she growls at me. If he has been bullying her, she might even bite me. I have a mark on my hand right now from where she drew blood a few days ago.

I’m not her enemy. I love her more than any pet I’ve ever had (and most people). But an animal who is angry and in pain can’t always tell who is a friend and who isn’t. They just lash out. All you can do is be patient, and kind, and hope they come around.

People are like that, too.

You see a meme from time to time that no one born with hate. That hate is learned. There is usually a photo of babies, or of Nelson Mandela.

I don’t think that’s entirely true. I think some people are born with hate — or perhaps, are born with something else missing. The part that feels compassion. The part that sees other people as people.

And I think there are more people like that than most of us realize. A lot more.

The stories told by Uncle Remus in “Song Of The South” are the stories of African-Americans. “Song Of The South” was based on stories compiled by Joel Chandler Harris — a white man, yes, but they were the stories of African-Americans, and Harris tried his best to tell them faithfully. Joel Chandler Harris was a journalist who actually cared about the people whose stories he was sharing. It’s easy to say, “Oh, those should have been shared by African-Americans,” but at the time, that wasn’t an option. If he hadn’t collected them, those stories might be lost now.

As for the movie, it is not the racist propaganda that people who have never seen it assume it to be. If anything, it’s the opposite. For example, it shows a world where black and white children play together — in a movie made at the height of the Jim Crow era. The songs won awards, and the wonderfully talented James Baskett won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Uncle Remus — the first African American to win one (he wasn’t allowed to accept it at the main ceremony, due to idiotic 20th century racism). The worst thing that can be said about the movie is that the live action parts are dull, aside from when James Baskett is singing.

I know it’s just a dumb Disney movie, but I wish people recognized that “Song Of The South” was a small step forward for our society, at a time we really needed it. As a work of art and a cultural milestone, it and the people who made it deserve far more respect than they get.