perfect rebuttal

anonymous asked:

okay so hear me out: Jefferson and Hamilton are Columbia's top debaters who are incredibly loud but with completely opposite views, but they have a begrudgingly respect for each other and don't kill each other at debates. Madison and Burr are the silent, calculating students from Princeton who are rather reserved and factual, while the Colombia boys are all about pathos. and they end up competing against each other, and they're so impressed with each other

This is….so good.

Like at the first debate Hamilton and Jefferson are so confident that they are gonna win. They take one look at Madison, who is coughing into his hand, and Burr, who is looking down at the floor, and think they have the debate in the bag. There’s no way they could lose.

So Jefferson opens up the debate, his usual confident smirk on his face as he starts to talk, gesturing charismatically and even getting the crowd to laugh a few times. He glances over to his competitors and thinks that he even sees Madison laughing before he covers it up with a cough. Jefferson is so sure that he hit all his main points and made a perfect argument that he’s already counting it as a victory. But then Madison stands up, clears his throat, and starts to talk.

His rebuttal is perfect, he goes through each of Jefferson’s main points and picks them apart, and Jefferson is in shock. Sure Madison is soft spoken and not making eye contact with anyone, but he’s pulling facts out of nowhere and speaking so confidently that Jefferson is impressed. Beyond impressed. When Madison sits back down, shooting a small smile in Jefferson’s direction, Jefferson can’t help but smile back.

Now Hamilton is standing up, getting ready for the closing statement. He talks rapidly, and with passion, slamming his hands down on the podium a few times, which makes Jefferson roll his eyes. Hamilton is always so dramatic. But when Jefferson peeks over at the opposing team again, he sees the other guy, Burr, watching Hamilton with interest. Then he hears something he never hears; Hamilton stumbles on his words.

Jefferson looks over at Hamilton, to see him staring at Burr as well, and then a faint blush spreads over his face as he continues to talk, keeping his eyes ahead of him this time. After a few more minutes, Hamilton sits down, ignoring Jefferson’s judging glance.

Burr is up next, and damn, can that guy give a good speech. He starts off with kind words, saying that Hamilton and Jefferson have brought up very good points. But then he smiles at the both of them before turning back to face the crowd and the judges, and he starts to basically tear their argument to pieces. It’s  just fact after fact, his voice ringing out in such a calm, comfortable way that even Hamilton is staring with his mouth hanging open. By the time Burr is finished, both Hamilton and Jefferson are sure that they’ve lost.

And they have.

They shake hands with Madison and Burr, congratulating them even though they’re disappointed. Then Burr is offering to take them all to dinner, and Jefferson is about to kindly refuse, but then Hamilton is elbowing him in the side, accepting Burr’s offer with a wide grin.

So there they all are, Jefferson cramped beside Hamilton in a booth across from Madison and Burr. And it’s a little awkward at first, no one saying anything, but then Hamilton just starts talking a mile a minute, asking Madison and Burr where they learned to debate like that and how they learned to speak so well.

And Burr is smiling while Madison chuckles, and they say that’s just how they’ve always debated. They both grew up being the quiet kids in class, but they are good persuaders, good at memorizing facts and speaking calmly. And Jefferson doesn’t even have to look at Hamilton to know that he’s probably seething with jealousy.

But then Burr says that he was very impressed with how good Hamilton is at public speaking, and Hamilton just makes this weird sound before turning unbelievably red. Burr just keeps smiling, and Jefferson can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. The last thing he wants to see is Hamilton attempting to flirt.

But before Jefferson can worry too much about that, Madison starts talking to him in a quiet voice. He asks how Jefferson learned to be so humorous in his speeches, and Jefferson is so taken aback for a moment that he can only stare at Madison, who is staring at him with genuine interest. So Jefferson smiles and winks, saying that it’s all natural, which makes Madison chuckle.

Then all four of them are talking, getting to know each other and having such a good time that they barely even eat. There’s just too much to talk about. But then it starts getting late, and they have to say their goodbyes. They all shake hands, and Jefferson doesn’t miss the way that Madison’s hand lingers on his. He’s even more surprised when he feels a piece of paper being pressed into his palm as Madison smiles and says he hopes to hear from him soon. And when Jefferson looks down at his hand, he sees a a piece of paper with a phone number written down on it.

He smirks at Hamilton as they make their way back to the hotel they’re been staying at, waving the piece of paper in his face and bragging about his own charms. But Hamilton just smirks back before digging into his pocket and pulling out a scrap of paper as well, waving it around. And when Jefferson looks closer at it, he sees a phone number on it, and the name Aaron Burr written underneath. They’re both silent for a moment before they start laughing.

They may have lost the debate, but it was worth it. 

So I was ringing up this lady with a cart full of lingerie at work today and after she left…

Coworker: Wow Max, that’s probably more panties than you’ve ever seen in your life!
Me: …
Them: …
Me: Why are you like this?


Jupiter dealing out some intense (and thoroughly deserved) punishment. A lot has been made of the ‘fact’ that Jupiter is a passive protagonist, and I find this scene the perfect rebuttal to that. In fact, I’d say that everything Jupiter suffers prior to this point makes this fight sequence incredibly rewarding and redemptive - this isn’t just a fight scene, since it’s far more about the emotions and inner torment driving the characters than it is about the fighting itself (which is why this scene of two complete amateurs beating each other bloody is far more interesting and engaging than every scene of pro-soldier Caine flawlessly executing fight moves). 

Jupiter isn’t simply defending herself here - she is expelling all of the rage and anger that have built up inside of her over the course of her experiences. She looks at Balem with an expression of utter loathing and disgust, which is contrasted with his expressions of passion, resentment and, in a twisted sense, adoration. But what really defines her is that she stops herself - she could have easily beaten his brains out, but she refuses to. She punishes Balem but doesn’t take his life, because she has more regard for life than he does and has no wish to commit an act that would firmly align her with her predecessor.

In short, this is probably the best scene in the film for me. It’s perfect and it finally allows Jupiter to fight back and assert herself on her own terms.

Who is afraid of the Big Black Femme? Bell hooks, Beyonce and Femmephobia
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< br /> I’ve loved bell hooks for many of her insights. There are few men in my life who I have not prescribed her book We Real Cool. I’ve treated All About Love as a Bible, folding pages that moved me and highlighting sentences that I thought I should hold on to. When hooks gave us the phrase “whiteness fatigue” in Killing Rage, I thought to myself, “here is a woman who truly understands me and my particular condition, being Black and woman, ” As I’ve watched more of her talks and read her shorter works, the feeling of being understood by bell hooks has died. Her recent essay “Moving Beyond Pain” about Beyoncé’s Lemonade peaks my frustration with hooks in a way that might keep me from appreciating any work from her in the future. What’s most disturbing about hooks’ latest essay is it’s bare revelation of an undercurrent in all of her work: hooks does not respect Black femmes, especially not Black femme women, no matter what we do or create. Growing up the daughter of a very dark Black woman with a nose the world often told me was too broad, the emphasis has always been for me to be smart. It was already decided that I was not going to be anyone’s version of pretty, so I shouldn’t waste time with my looks. Still, I was always feminine and chastised for it. I was told it was frivolous. Later it was third wave and Black feminism would affirm who I was, challenging the idea that any preoccupation of women was inherently less serious and for the attention of men. In contrast, hooks talks openly about her own experiences growing up and being told to try harder to be feminine, pretty. It’s become clear that this, coupled with societal pressure for women to be a European standard of “beautiful”,has convinced hooks that Black femininity is always the result of conforming. During “Are you still a Slave?” and again on stage with Laverne Cox, she insisted that those of us who are Black and feminine are conforming to patriachy, implied we are bowing to our history of sexual exploitation. But if we are looking at Black womanhood from the perspective of slavery, as hooks so often does, then every moment a Black woman spends adorning herself, expressing her femininity for herself is revolutionary. It was a luxury never extended to us but one that we take for ourselves. Spanning hooks’ long academic career, there are irrefutable signs that bell hooks takes particular issue Black femininity, meaning none of this is new. But it is why, when I read “Moving Beyond Pain” it was clear to me that it is more about hooks’ personal discomfort with Black femininity than with the art she says she is critiquing. Hooks, tears apart Lemonade using the guise of feminism, holding Beyonce to a near-impossible standard, demanding from her which she, and society at large, asks of no one else except for Black women. She dismisses Lemonade as anything more than “money-making at it’s best” because in a 1 hour visual album Beyonce was unable to destroy structures hooks hasn’t in her decades long career. Which White singer gets this? Which Black male rapper? When have we seen the work of Taylor Swift (a crowned feminist darling) criticized for it’s greater contributions to revolution? When was the last time we had a public intellectual lambaste Kendrick Lamar for not deconstructing sexism in his videos? hooks’ distaste for Beyonce is no secret to anyone, but this article veered from disliking Beyonce to a particular femmephobia. hooks participates in the white cishetereopatriarchy that she claims to critique when she raises the bar for Black women and Black women alone. hooks has no problem getting paid to lift up the elementary feminism of white capitalists like her “feminist girl crush” Emma Watson, recently named in the Panama papers. Hooks mimics the White cishetereopatriarchy she so carefully names when she raises the bar for Black women alone, when her feminist analysis boils down to “I can’t take her seriously, she’s got on all that make-up!” hooks’ analysis of Beyoncé mimics society at large by reducing Black feminine woman as disingenuous, unserious, a sexual commodity. Embracing my femininity and my sexuality has been my personal revolution. The time I spend doing my nails, getting my eyebrows waxed, these rituals- a singular declaration that the time I spend on me is not a waste. What hooks would call my “utterly aestheticized” presentation is for me. I was feminine when I was strapping women down and I am feminine standing next to my partner now. These are the moments I delight in this skin my grandmother lamented over as too dark. I fluff my hair White people often deem too big, I dress my body and it’s curves in loving adoration despite its very existence being deemed vulgar. This too is feminist. As a woman who makes her living dissecting the particular cruelty of devaluing Black women and the many ways it happens, bell hooks disappoints profoundly when she herself devalues a Black woman and her art baselessly. It is hard for me to read hook’s essay as any sort of feminism and if I were to follow her example, I’d dismiss everything she’s written and declare her feminism untrustworthy. Afterall, a woman who internalizes the misogynistic disregard for femininity can’t possibly “call for an end to patriarchal domination.” When bell hooks can’t see the harm she inflicts when she couches femmephobia in feminist critique, can her “feminist vision” be trusted? The answer seems closest to no. Still it is patriarchy that teaches us Black women are disposable, especially when there is no more labor you can suck from them. I’ll continue to love hooks for the many things she’s given to me- the perfect rebuttal to The Feminine Mystique to her loving assesment of Black manhood- but her femmephobia will not be one of them.
"This is all fake!"

I have never, ever, ever understood why the word “fake” is used toward professional wrestling as a derogatory term. It’s as if people are completely unable to explain why or how another person would willingly suspend their belief in order to be entertained.

Somewhere that I’ve been seeing the word a lot lately is on the WWE’s official Instagram page. Every time a photo is posted of say, Mark Henry, The Bella Twins, a ring bell, whatever, there’s always some huge debate between idiots with iPhones discussing how they know that the WWE is fake.

This is truly bizarre to me. What’s with the urge to point out something that everyone’s pretty much aware of at this point? Why is it that people do this while watching professional wrestling, but not while watching movies, or TV shows? I’ve seen a bunch of superhero movies in theaters but never stood up to exclaim my epiphany that what I’m seeing can’t possibly be real.

There’s a phrase, and it’s an old one, dating back to possibly the 1800’s. It’s been used many a time in several situations throughout history and it’s a perfect rebuttal to something that holds no merit, for an opinion that wasn’t asked for, and to anyone whose attempt in life is to spoil the fun that others are having. Feel free to use it any time someone makes it their goal to remind you that pro wrestling is fake. Simply look that person in the face, make the most annoyed face that you can possibly muster, and simply say to them…

Shut the fuck up.

VIDEO: Bill Whittle gives the best explanation of the 2nd Amendment's text you'll ever hear

Does the phrase “a well regulated militia” restrict individuals not belonging to a militia from keeping and bearing arms? That’s what liberal progressives would lead you to believe.  They routinely re-write the Constitution’s 2nd Amendment for their own political purposes and completely ignore the original meaning of Constitution.

Bill Whittle explains that not only is the liberal “militia-only” interpretation completely counter to the Founding Father’s intentions, it doesn’t even make sense if you break the sentence down grammatically.

Here’s the video:

A well-schooled electorate, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and read books shall not be infringed.  Does that mean that only a well-schooled electorate –high school graduates, say– are the only ones with the right to keep and read books?

Just look at those two sentences above?  That is the most concise and perfect rebuttal to the liberal “militia-only” argument I have ever heard.  It is brilliant in its simplicity.  

If you’ve know somebody who doesn’t seem to understand the 2nd Amendment or could use a little extra ammunition when defending it, feel free to send share this page with them.