RIP Ron. Dad. Thanks for welcoming me into the family and making your daughter.
— Eddie Huang
This is an incredibly poignant fact about Asian Americans growing up with food in America.
More from firstwefeast that nails the issue:
Yelp, Chowhound, and other restaurant sites are littered with comments like, “$5 for dumplings?? I’ll go to Flushing, thanks!” or “When I was backpacking in India this dish cost like five cents, only an idiot would pay that much!” Yet you never see complaints about the prices at Western restaurants framed in these terms, because it’s ingrained in people’s heads that these foods are somehow “worth” more.
A theme for @seoulbrother.
A long while back, I hatched a plan for trying to focus my scattered musical ideas: Create short 30-second themes for my tweeps’ imaginary TV shows.»
I hope one day someone makes a theme song for you. It’s a special thing.
Thank you, Jojo (@OblongRobber) for the kind words and the tune.
I WAS born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of its women, gave me a song and a slogan.
Here the water went down, the icebergs slid with gravel, the gaps and the valleys hissed, and the black loam came, and the yellow sandy loam.
Here between the sheds of the Rocky Mountains and the Appalachians, here now a morning star fixes a fire sign over the timber claims and cow pastures, the corn belt, the cotton belt, the cattle ranches. Here the gray geese go five hundred miles and back with a wind under their wings honking the cry for a new home.
Here I know I will hanker after nothing so much as one more sunrise or a sky moon of fire doubled to a river moon of water.
The prairie sings to me in the forenoon and I know in the night I rest easy in the prairie arms, on the prairie heart.»
Carl Sandburg is the shit, yo.