strange fruit is in season
+ delroy & solange & la bolita cubana
It’s hot-hot in Los Angeles and on the Central California coast this week. After the long recent rains when the damp set in and kept me sleepy and swaddled, the sun is breathing life back into my bones. This week you can smell the strawberries turning red. Feel your skin browning and your hair going coppery or blonde. Farmworkers brave brutal raids so we can eat berries and guacamole. They’re in bandanas and ball caps, straw hats and sweatbands, listening to Peso Pluma and Bad Bunny, Tupac and Tyga, Becky G and Kali Uchis, keeping our shortcake and smoothie dreams alive. Hell is empty, is what I heard. And all the devils are here. Regardless of variety, it doesn’t have to be 1939 for strange fruit to be in season.
In the wake of Renée Nicole Good's murder, can we finally talk about why Hollywood, the Democratic Party, and other so-called liberal institutions refuse to take on fascism? This essay from Cole Haddon is worth the read. It’s also makes me think of Motown’s Suzanne dePasse.…
