Our Lady of Chinese Whispers

Had a video call with my brother Chuck the other day.  Things got heavy:

KATE: Was Kurt Cobain a trans woman?

CHUCK: What?

Kurt Cobain.  Rock musician.  He was in a band called Nirvana.

I’m familiar with him, yes.

Was he a trans woman?

Um.  No?

OK.  Why not?

I mean, he wasn’t.  It’s like asking why he wasn’t an astronaut.

He wasn’t an astronaut because he never went to space.  Why wasn’t he a trans woman?

Because he didn’t transition.  I mean, he didn’t ever say he was a woman, didn’t ever say he was trans.  So no.  Kurt Cobain wasn’t a trans woman.

So someone is trans if they say they’re trans.  Self-determination.

That’s what you’ve told me.  Is that wrong?

No, that’s right.  We know ourselves better than anybody else can know us.  If we say we’re trans, nobody can say we aren’t.

And Kurt Cobain never said he was trans.

So was I trans in 1994?

I don’t know, were you?

Yes, but if you’d asked me in 1994, I would have told you “no”.

So if I tell you I’m trans, I’m trans…

Right.

But if I tell you I’m cis, I might still be trans?

If you tell me you’re cis, I believe you.

That’s not the same thing as “I’m cis”.

That’s a really good point.  This is sort of what some queer people are getting at when they say “gender is a construct”.

Come again?

Well, you’re cisgender, right?

As far as I know, yes.

Aha.

Hmmm?

You hedged.  “As far as I know” isn’t the same thing as “yes”.  “As far as I know” opens up the possibility that you could be trans and not know it.

It doesn’t seem terribly likely.

That’s an interesting statement.  Early on in transition one of the biggest problems I had was dealing with the sheer unlikelihood of my being trans.  I mean, I knew trans people existed.  I knew somebody had to be trans.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that it would be me.

Do you think this is why you’re on this whole “Kurt Cobain was a trans woman” kick?

Hey now, I’m just asking questions.  You know.  Like J.K. Rowling is “just asking questions”.

Kate, you are literally wearing a T-shirt that says “KURT COBAIN WAS A TRANS WOMAN” on it right now.

Am I?  Oh, shit.  I thought I was wearing my “Skip school, take hormones, kill God” T-shirt.  To your question, though - yeah, I do think that’s part of it.  Honestly, the hardest thing about growing up trans was believing that nobody in the world had ever experienced what I was experiencing.  I didn’t have any role models.  I didn’t wonder if I was the only one.  I was convinced of it.

So being able to say that this incredibly gifted songwriter, the voice of a generation, was a trans woman like you…

I need someone like that.  I need to not be the first of my kind.

Of course you’re not the first trans woman.

No, but before a couple of years ago almost every trans woman would tell you they always knew, unquestionably and innately, that they were women.

So it’s not just about him being trans, but specifically his being a trans woman who didn’t know he was a trans woman.

An egg.  Right.

Why Kurt Cobain, anyway?  What’s so special about him that you’re trying to induct him into the Egg Hall of Fame?

He knew things.  Things cis guys don’t know.  Things I didn’t know until after I started transition.  He understood women, what we’re like, what we experience.  “Pennyroyal Tea”.  “Rape Me”.  I just have a hard time thinking of a cis man who could write songs like that.

It wouldn’t be the only way in which he was exceptional.

True.  Ahhh.  I don’t know.  I mean, I know, I can give you all the reasons, but there’s something in his eyes.

Something in his eyes.

All the pictures of him.  No matter what he’s doing.  If he’s grinning, or sad, whatever he’s doing, you can see something trapped there.  Trapped and in pain, wanting to get out but not quite knowing how.

Huh.  You, uh, know that what you’re doing is pretty much the textbook definition of projection, right?

Maybe.  Chuck, do you think I’m happier?

Since you transitioned?

Yeah.

Of course.  Absolutely.  Night and day.

Everyone says that, and honestly, I see it.  Even in pictures, you know?  I see it.  You’ve seen some of my transition timelines, right?

You do look really different.

It’s not just me.  Every single person who transitions looks like that.  We look so much happier, so much more alive, so much more us.  I don’t understand how anybody can hate us.

I don’t get it either, Kate.

And when I look at any timelines, I look at the before photos… and I see something in their eyes.  Transmasc, transfem, doesn’t matter.  There’s something trapped wanting to get out.  Every picture I’ve ever seen of Kurt Cobain looks like the “before” picture on a transition timeline.  It’s just that with him, there aren’t any after pictures.

And it’s not just the eyes, either.  The way he dressed, the whole “grunge look”.  It’s just literally egg fashion.  We dress with total disregard for our appearance or how we look because no matter what we do it’s wrong.

“Egg fashion”, egg this, egg that… isn’t it a little bit anachronistic, judging him by 2022 standards, 2022 values?

Is it?  Chuck, I was alive in 1994.  I was an 18 year old egg.  I know what that feels like.  I know what that looks like.  I lived that.  Why didn’t I come out as trans in 1994?  Because I didn’t have the opportunity.  Because self-determination needs to be informed, and none of us were.  None of us.  Look.  You know what he said to Melody Maker in 1991?  “I knew I was different. I thought that I might be gay or something because I couldn't identify with any of the guys at all.”  That’s what he said.

Holy shit.  Really?

Really.  September 14, 1991.

Hold on, let me look that up.  Oh, yeah, I see it.  Look, if you look at the full quote he’s just saying he’s not a jock.  Like he didn’t fit in with the jocks. 

Well, what about the dresses?

What dresses?

Kurt Cobain wore a lot of dresses.  Like, a lot, both onstage and off.  On MTV in 1991, he said “It’s ‘Headbanger’s Ball’ so I thought I’d wear a gown.”  He said in a 1993 interview, “I personally like to wear dresses.  I wear them around the house sometimes.”  This is not some shameful secret he kept hidden from the world.  He was open about this.  He was proud about this.

Yeah, but… it’s just clothes.

Except it’s not just clothes.  Listen to his songs.  Listen to his lyrics.  “Should have been a son”.  “I’m a lady, can you save me?”  “Everyone is gay.”  The original lyrics to “All Apologies” from his journals – “Boys write songs for girls.  Let me grow some breasts.”

I mean they’re song lyrics.  There are all kinds of ways to interpret song lyrics.

Sure.  All kinds of ways.  You ever read Michael Azerrad’s biography of Cobain, Come As You Are?

Nope.

Azerrad spent weeks talking to Cobain.  He was Cobain’s biographer, but also his friend.  And he has his own interpretation of the lyrics.  For instance, Azerrad talks about all the lyrics about guns, and to me, now, I look at that, and I think of how he died, but Azerrad, when Kurt was alive, he looked at it another way.  He thought it’s about dicks.  “To paraphrase Dr. Freud,” he says, “sometimes a gun is just a gun.  But not this time.”  He talks about “Come As You Are”, where Kurt keeps singing “I swear I don’t have a gun.”  That’s not my interpretation.  That’s never been my interpretation.  That’s what this cis man says.  More than one cis man.  Kurt says Dave Grohl’s dad, he said the same thing.  Yeah.  There are all kinds of ways to interpret lyrics.

“By this time,” Azerrad wrote, “one begins to wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man at all.  His first response is revealing.  ‘I don’t know,’ he says.  ‘Castration.’”  I don’t wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man.  I rationalized “being a man” in all kinds of ways.  What strikes me is that he needed to rationalize being a man.  Had to come up with some kind of excuse.  It just strikes me kind of funny.

Kurt’s songs have meanings.   The lyrics to “In Bloom”, Kurt was pretty explicit about that.  The lyrics he wrote have meanings.  “Heart-Shaped Box”.  You know what that refers to?  When Courtney Love was flirting with Kurt, Michael Azerrad says in Come As You Are, “She gave Dave (Grohl) a package to give to Kurt – little sea shells and miniature teacups and a tiny doll, all packed into a small heart-shaped box.”  A tiny doll locked away inside a box shaped like a heart.  That was what I felt like before I came out.  A tiny phantom doll.  Kurt and Courtney first kissed after a show at the Cabaret Metro in Chicago.  Rumor was that they fucked against the bar, but they denied it.  What actually happened, Azerrad says, is that “Courtney had a bag of lingerie with her for some reason and Kurt ended up modeling the contents.”  And then they went to Kurt’s hotel room and they fucked.

You’re making it sound…

Maybe it was.  Because you look at that and you think that if it was like that, it was perverted and wrong, because that’s what you were told, that it’s a sick fetish thing, and I look at it and it isn’t.  To me, that’s normal.  That Kurt Cobain was sexually aroused while wearing Courtney Love’s lingerie, that’s normal.

Kate, he was a punk!  He hated jocks, and wearing a dress pissed off jocks, so he wore dresses.  He talked about wanting to wear a dress and piss on a redneck A&R man’s desk!  You think that was some kind of sex thing?

Sexuality is part of being a woman.  Part.  Rage – and Kurt Cobain had a lot of rage inside him – that’s another part.  Am I interpreting, am I looking at things from my perspective as a trans woman?  Yes, certainly, just like you’re interpreting, looking at it from your perspective as a cis man.  When cis people interpret things, their conclusion is never “they were trans”.  Never.

Ed Wood wasn’t a trans woman.  He was just a transvestite.  He was a man.

Pete Burns from Dead or Alive wasn’t a trans woman.  Sure, he got all sorts of feminizing surgeries, but he never said he was a woman.  Man.

Prince Nelson adopted a female persona, feminized his voice, and recorded a song about wanting to be a woman's girlfriend, but he was also a Christian and believed that being queer was wicked and sinful, and that's the identity of his we need to respect.  Man.

Richard Wright, who wrote the Phish song “Halley’s Comet”, spent most of the 1980s telling everyone he knew he was a transsexual lesbian named Nancy, but after being consistently treated like shit changed his mind about that, so none of that counts for anything.  Man.

Dave Carter was on HRT when he died, but he was just questioning.  He didn’t tell anybody for sure that he was a woman.  Man.

Quentin Crisp said just before he died that if he was younger, he absolutely would have transitioned, but wanting to transition isn’t the same as actually transitioning.  Man.

All men.  Always, always men, whatever they do, whatever they say.  I know how that works.  I was told all these same things about myself for decades, all these same reasons, and now, I don’t know, I guess people will make a personal exception for me, but for everybody else, the same old assumptions, the same old arguments, they still apply.  They’re still legitimate.

I thought we were talking about Kurt Cobain.

And the only way to do that is to talk about him in isolation.  There’s no larger context to consider, no bigger picture.  I can’t really know.  I can’t really judge.

I mean, everybody else does.  I guess I can’t tell you not to.  But all of this circumstantial evidence, all of the dresses and the lyrics that you I guess know the real meaning of – none of that makes him a girl.

Sure.  And nothing can make him a girl.  Because he’s dead.  Because he killed himself.

Oh, here we go.  After thirty years and countless speculation, you have at last uncovered the real reason Kurt Cobain killed himself – gender dysphoria.  Do you have a book deal yet?

Working on it.  And yes, people say a lot of stupid things about Cobain’s death, like it’s this big shock that this guy who hated himself and wanted to die killed himself.

Right.  He was pretty well-known for being a heroin addict, which isn’t exactly something that improves one’s quality of life.

Sure, but why did he start heroin?

I don’t know.  Why does anybody start heroin?

To help him cope with his eating disorder.

Wait, what?  Eating disorder?

You don’t know about that?  He had stomach problems, for a long, long time.  He could only eat certain kinds of food, certain kinds of food that wouldn’t make his stomach hurt.  Doctors looked but they could never find any organic cause for it.  Nobody took it seriously.  So he self-medicated with heroin.  “It was my choice,” he told Azerrad.  “I don’t regret it at all because it was such a relief from not having stomach pain every day.”  I know, though.  Lots of cis guys have eating disorders.  Doesn’t mean anything.

Kate there’s a lot of interpreting going on here.

Yeah, I guess there is.  Is that necessarily a bad thing, though?  Is that necessarily wrong?  Like.  You’ve seen The Matrix, right?

Only the first one.

Yeah, that’s fine.  So you know how important The Matrix is to a lot of trans women, right?

Yes, but I’m not really sure why.  Just seems like a retelling of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” with extra fight scenes.

It’s pretty trans, though, right?

Clearly.  It was directed by two trans women.

And trans women who watch it – eggs or otherwise – find their own lives and experiences reflected in it in ways that cis people, like you, don’t.

I guess, but the fact that it was actually made by two trans women carries a little more weight with me.

OK, but what if the Wachowskis had died in 2000?  In, like… a car crash or something?  Does that mean The Matrix isn’t a trans film?

Well, no, because it’s still a film made by two trans women.

A film made by two trans women that speaks to the trans experience, and that is recognized by living trans women as speaking specifically to the trans experience.  The only difference is that, in this scenario, nobody knows the Wachowski Sisters are trans women.  And we can’t prove it.  We can’t possibly prove it, and nobody is going to just believe us when we say it’s a trans movie, that the Wachowskis were trans women, because they didn’t say it, they didn’t say the special magic words.  Self-determination.  You know what self-determination meant to Kurt Cobain?  I remember seeing Courtney Love on television reading his note, I remember her interrupting to say that he was an asshole, that what he was saying was bullshit.  She didn’t respect his self-determination.

Um…

“Pennyroyal Tea”.  Cobain told Azerrad “It's a cleansing theme where I’m trying to get all my bad evil spirits out of me and drinking Pennyroyal tea would cleanse that away.”  Pennyroyal is an abortifacient – but, Azerrad notes, only in lethal doses. 

Hell, not just that song.  The whole album.  In Utero.  The collage on the back cover, the one Cobain described to Azerrad as “Sex and woman and In Utero and vaginas and birth and death".  The occult symbols surrounding it, taken from Barbara G. Walker’s The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects1.  There was something inside Kurt Cobain, something inside him waiting to be born, but he was told, over and over, that it was a monster, so he killed it, the only way he could.  By killing himself.

That could have been me.  That could so easily have been me.  I was told all the same things he was.  We all were.  When I was 27?  When I was 27, I was addicted to benzos, benzos they prescribed me because I was trying to bury, trying to kill this thing, this thing I had inside of me.  I was a zombie.  Walking dead.  When I quit, I quit cold turkey.  Nobody told me about the withdrawal syndrome.  Nobody told me it could have killed me.  And if it had, everybody would remember me, everybody would think of me, as a cis man.  Forever.  They would perpetuate the Lie.  That’s why I transitioned, why I chose to go through all the shit I went through.  The writer and musician Margaret Killjoy, in 2017 she talked about what she went through the day before she came out:

“All I could think was: ‘Oh god, I don’t want to die a boy.’”2

I felt the same way, came out for the same reason.  I figured no matter what I did, I was dead.  I didn’t do it live, but to at least have an honest death.  I genuinely believed transition would kill me.

It didn’t, though!  You’re alive and you’re beautiful and I’m so, so glad for that.  It didn’t kill you.

It could have.  Still could.  Transition has helped, has made it easier­ for me, but it’s not that way with everyone.  People have been kind to me, in ways that they aren’t kind to other trans women.  Others of us… aren’t so lucky.

Who are we respecting, exactly, by remaining silent about our shared experiences, our shared perspectives, things we see that you fucking don’t, that you can’t see?  Of course I can’t prove it.  I can’t prove that I’m trans.  You can’t prove that you’re cis.  Cis people, though, cis people never have to prove anything.  Their prejudices are the null hypothesis3.  If I was to go out there and say that Kurt Cobain was a cisgender man, would anybody say I was wrong?  Would anybody object or complain?  Even though my saying that is an anachronism, is meaningless.  The word, the concept, it literally didn’t exist when Cobain died.  Have you ever heard the word “agnotology”?

No?

It means making a false claim to ignorance.  Claiming that we don’t know something that we do.  That we can’t know something that we can.  We know things now, Chuck.  We know what the symptoms of gender dysphoria are.  We know what it does to people.  How eggs think.  How eggs act.  How eggs die.  But we pretend we don’t.  We still pretend.  We pretend suicide is an individual act, even when we know it’s not, that the reasons for it are wholly personal.  We pretend that when someone dies by suicide, their reasons for doing so die with them.  And they don’t, Chuck.  We’re still dying, still dying for the same reasons Kurt Cobain did.  It’s not just that we aren’t allowed to recognize ourselves.  We aren’t allowed to recognize each other.  Individual choice or social contagion.  Those are the options we’re given.  And neither of them are right.  Neither of them are who we are.

Kurt Cobain wrote, thought, talked, died like eggs do.  I don’t care if he never said the magic fucking words.  We know our own.  We recognize each other.  And if someone is alive?  If someone is alive I will go my whole life without ever breathing a word.  Because as long as we’re alive, we do choose, and that means we can choose ignorance.  What I think, what I want, for someone else, for us, it doesn’t matter.  I do that, I follow that code, for the benefit of one person – the egg themselves.  Once they die, all bets are off.  Omerta no longer applies.  Kayfabe no longer applies.

To be queer is to be erased, to experience erasure.  I still hear straight men arguing, as if they have any right to argue, as if they know, that Emily Dickinson was not a lesbian.  Emily Dickinson!  I’m supposed to listen to people who say this shit?  I’m supposed to take them seriously when they say well, actually, calling Dickinson a “lesbian” is historically anachronistic, we can’t apply the standards of the present to the past, and Jesus fuck have you read her letters?  She liked girls.  She really liked girls.  Kurt Cobain was a trans woman.  Kurt Cobain was every bit as much a trans woman as Emily Dickinson was a lesbian.  Refusing to say it isn’t “respect”.  It’s perpetuating the crime perpetrated against Cobain, against every other trans woman who ever killed herself because of the lies we were told about ourselves.  No more.  Kurt Cobain was a trans woman.  I can’t, as an individual, say that.  I don’t have the right.  No trans woman can say that, individually.  But collectively?  All of us together?  The things we see in each other, we see those things in him too.  Not all of them, and not all of us.  Absolutely not all of us.  But enough of us.  Enough that we have the right.  We have the right, and I will fucking say it, and if you don’t like that, you can go fuck yourself.

Kate, are you ok?

I’m fine.

Do you want a hug?

Fuck you, Chuck.

OK, well.  I’m, uh.  Gonna go to the other room.  You should, uh.  Drink some water.  Stay hydrated.  Love you, Kate.

Love you too, Chuck.  Sorry.

Shhh.  It’s OK, Kate.  It’s OK.

1 Diane Purkiss criticizes the occult nature of Walker’s encyclopedia in "Women's Rewriting of Myth", in Carolyne Larrington (ed), The Feminist Companion to Mythology, London, 1992, p. 444: “In Donna Haraway's influential terms, these women may wish to be goddesses, but they are cyborgs all the same”. The work she’s referencing is Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto”.  Haraway was, it happens, an academic advisor to the trans woman Sandy Stone, and her “Cyborg Manifesto” was a pivotal influence on Stone’s “The Empire Strikes Back: A Post-Transsexual Manifesto”, one of the foundational works of transgender theory.

2 Margaret Killjoy, https://birdsbeforethestorm.net/2017/06/im-not-even-going-to-try-to-pass/

Well, I recently learned something that makes that story even better.  Most clay tablets from that time period were made of unfired clay, which means that they degraded over time, getting washed away by weather and such.  Some of the fired tablets were fired on purpose, but others were fired accidentally when the building they were stored in were burnt down.  

I have never felt so seen in my life. The original mako was fun and that is the hill I die on. The true experience was driving that thing like there was no tomorrow and imagining the Normandy squad holding on for dear life as Shepard sent it flying over every hill.

The biggest threat of mass effect wasn't Saren or the Reapers - it was my Shepard bringing them to the brink of death every time they had to step foot in that death trap. They probably updated their wills and said their final goodbyes to their family the minute Shepard stepped into the driver's seat. The mako had absolutely everything - streamlined for your experience.

Guns that aimed? Fuck that. Unnecessary. Drive over the enemies and drive like shit until you get away. Bash into them hard enough until they fall into lava.

Gravity? Fuck that. Physics cannot contain the Mako. She's an enigma beyond such simple reckoning. The mako is my magic carpet and I'm showing the squad the world as I send it flying over every cliff.

The Mako is the horse in all of those horse movies where the city girl tames the wild unrideable horse with oats and apples until she gains it's trust and they ride off into the sunset together after evading some rich farmer trying to sell it off.

The original mako straight up fucks and nothing will ever beat the sheer joy that comes from making the biggest regret of bioware do it's fun little bounces. The Nomad had nothing on the prime steed that is the Mako who drives like she's been coked up for the Derby.

Like activists have been screaming variations on “educate yourself!” for as long as I’ve been alive and probably longer, but like... actually doing so? Used to be harder?

And anger at previous generations for not being good enough is nothing new. I remember being a kid and being horrified to learn how recent desegregation had been and that my parents and grandparents had been alive for it. Asking if they protested or anything and my mom being like “I was a child” and my grandma being like “well, no, I wasn’t into politics” but I was a child when I asked so that didn’t feel like much of an excuse from my mother at the time and my grandmother’s excuse certainly didn’t hold water and I remember vowing not to be like that.

So kids today looking at adults and our constant past failures and being like “How could you not have known better? Why didn’t you DO better?” are part of a long tradition of kids being horrified by their history, nothing new, and also completely justified and correct. That moral outrage is good.

But I was talking to a kid recently about the military and he was talking about how he’d never be so stupid to join that imperialist oppressive terrorist organization and I was like, “Wait, do you think everyone who has ever joined the military was stupid or evil?” and he was like, well maybe not in World War 2, but otherwise? Yeah.

And I was like, what about a lack of education? A lack of money? The exploitation of the lower classes? And he was like, well, yeah, but that’s not an excuse, because you can always educate yourself before making those choices.

And I was like, how? Are you supposed to educate yourself?

And he was like, well, duh, research? Look it up!

And I was like, and how do you do that?

And he was like, start with google! It’s not that hard!

And I was like, my friend. My kid. Google wasn’t around when my father joined the military.

Then go to the library! The library in the small rural military town my father grew up in? Yeah, uh, it wasn’t exactly going to be overflowing with anti-military resources.

Well then he should have searched harder!

How? How was he supposed to know to do that? Even if he, entirely independently figured out he should do that, how was he supposed to find that information?

He was a kid. He was poor. He was the first person in his family to aspire to college. And then by the time he knew what he signed up for it was literally a criminal offense for him to try to leave. Because that’s the contract you sign.

(Now, listen, my father is also not my favorite person and we agree on very little, so this example may be a bit tarnished by those facts, but the material reality of the exploitative nature of military recruitment remains the same.)

And this is one of a few examples I’ve come across recently of members of Gen Z just not understanding how hard it was to learn new ideas before the internet. I’m not blaming anyone or even claiming it’s disproportionate or bad. But the same kids that ten years ago I was marveling at on vacation because they didn’t understand the TV in the hotel room couldn’t just play more Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on demand - because they’d never encountered linear prescheduled TV, are growing into kids who cannot comprehend the difficulty of forming a new worldview or making life choices when you cannot google it. When you have maybe one secondhand source or you have to guess based on lived experience and what you’ve heard. Information, media, they have always been instant.

Society should’ve been better, people should’ve known better, it shouldn’t have taken so long, and we should be better now. That’s all true.

But controlling information is vital to controlling people, and information used to be a lot more controlled. By physical law and necessity! No conspiracy required! There’s limited space on a newspaper page! There’s limited room in a library! If you tried to print Wikipedia it would take 2920 bound volumes. That’s just Wikipedia. You could not keep the internet’s equivalent of resources in any small town in any physical form. It wasn’t there. We did not have it. When we had a question? We could not just look it up.

Kids today are fortunate to have dozens of firsthand accounts of virtually everything important happening at all times. In their pockets.

(They are also cursed by this, as we all are, because it’s overwhelming and can be incredibly bleak.)

If anything, today the opposite problem occurs - too much information and not enough time or context to organize it in a way that makes sense. Learning to filter out the garbage without filtering so much you insulate yourself from diverse ideas, figuring out who’s reliable, that’s where the real problem is now.

But I do think it has created, through no fault of anyone, this incapacity among the young to truly understand a life when you cannot access the relevant information. At all. Where you just have to guess and hope and do your best. Where educating yourself was not an option.

Where the first time you heard the word lesbian, it was from another third grader, and she learned it from a church pastor, and it wasn’t in the school library’s dictionary so you just had to trust her on what it meant.

I am not joking, I did not know the actual definition of the word “fuck” until I was in high school. Not for lack of trying! I was a word nerd, and I loved research! It literally was not in our dictionaries, and I knew I’d get in trouble if I asked. All I knew was it was a “bad word”, but what it meant or why it was bad? No clue.

If history felt incomprehensibly cruel and stupid while I was a kid who knew full well the feeling of not being able to get the whole story, I cannot imagine how cartoonishly evil it must look from the perspective of someone who’s always been able to get a solid answer to any question in seconds for as long as they’ve been alive. To Gen Z, we must all look like monsters.

I’m glad they know the things we did not. I hope one day they are able to realize how it was possible for us not to know. How it would not have been possible for them to know either, if they had lived in those times. I do not need their forgiveness. But I hope they at least understand. Information is so powerful. Understanding that is so important to building the future. Underestimating that is dangerous.

Namibialina melanothrix (Syn. Ramalina melanothrix, Trichoramalina melanothrix, Niebla melanothrix)

This world is so big, and so chock-full of lichens I will never see in person. It is for that reason that I am forever grateful for people who think to take pictures of rare, localized species that are under studied and underdocumented. Like Kok van Herk, who took these pictures of N. melanothrix in the Namibian desert! Luckily, this fruticose lichen received attention recently in the form of a name revision from the Trichoramalina, Nielbla, and Ramalina genra to the newly established Namibialina genus! Thank you to all the folks out there helping us to get to know these incredible organisms. (which is also kinda backhandedly thanking myself but self-love and worth and all that) 

images: source

Hi, thanks for the question!

Sun Wukong/孙悟空 from Journey to the West/西游记 is mostly depicted wearing a tunic that reaches down between the hips and the knees, fastened with a sash, and combined with trousers:

This style of hanfu that combines a cross-collar tunic + sash + trousers is called shuhe/裋褐 (also known as duanda/短打). Convenient and practical, shuhe was worn by common folk - men, women, and children - for daily life, including activities like farming. Therefore, shuhe is in my opinion the most ideal style for casual/adventurer type hanfu. Below - shuhe in modern illustrations, historical paintings, and period dramas:

Despite being one of the most commonly worn hanfu styles historically, there aren’t many shuhe options available for regular wear in the market currently, because hanfu wearers today prefer fancier/more formal styles. Below - a few men’s hanfu styles, from left to right: yichang/ruqun, zhiju, shuhe, & yuanlingpao:

Nevertheless, there is a Taobao shop I can recommend for shuhe - Chonghui Hantang/重回汉唐, which offers shuhe in four color schemes (row 1, row 2):

For Sun Wukong cosplay, I also recommend getting traditional huwan/护腕 (wrist guards) (row 1 - 1, 2) and xuezi/靴子 (boots) (row 2 - 1, 2) to complete the look:

For more references, please see my shuhe tag.

Actors of color often get typecast. Two photographers asked them to depict their dream roles instead.