i hate when ppl go 'but in xyz us state its hotter' u have never experienced european heat where the houses are made to trap heat in, and the air feels suffocating pls. im moroccan and 36 degrees in morocco is two times nothing against 31 in belgium 😭
BBB26 é sinônimo de Renault! Hoje chega ao fim a maior realização de Ana Paula Renault: o comeback. A edição em que ela lava a alma e busca o que sempre foi seu, com um misto de emoções e sentimentos já mais vividos. Foram 100 dias de pura intensidade, uma história que, há 10 anos, foi interrompida aos 46 dias.
Hoje é dia de se despedir do #BBB26, coroando a trajetória dela. É HOJE: #AnaCampeã. 👑
Graças ao querido, amável e bem-humorado jurado Adilson Gomes Oliveira que as regras da avaliação das escolas do RJ foi mudada e a menor nota possível passou a ser 9. Um dos momentos mais memoráveis do Carnaval. Inesquecível. #ApuraçãoRJ
Saudade de quando prova de resistência era suportar um jingle incessante e tomar banho de detergente na cabeça enquanto tá vestido de esponja se esfregando em um prato gigante
@The_Irish_Kat @jaymiltonsz @CULTLECLERC They were together but both these photos are AI. He has a hood on his jacket on both photos but in the videos he doesn't
@carlous_o@fromvelour Olha eu assisti o vídeo umas 10x kkkkk realmente não sei o que ele quis dizer mesmo porque ele ainda fala “pela primeira vez nesse final de semana” não faz sentido. Talvez ele esteja se referindo a primeira vez dele mesmo
@carlous_o@fromvelour ele fala que vai ser a primeira vez que vamos ver um capacete amarelo com a bandeira brasileira em uma Ferrari referindo na fala dele ao começo do video ao pensar no Ayrton na Ferrari eu entendi assim
When Tyla said she is not Black but Coloured, she was not speaking into the American conversation about race at all. She was speaking in the language of her own country, shaped by its own history. Yet her words detonated in America as though they had been aimed there. This is what happens when a nation has spent a century convincing the world that its definitions are the only ones that matter.
America’s greatest export has never been war. It has never been democracy. It has never been freedom. America’s greatest export is the dream of itself.
It is not that the films are inherently better. It is not that the music contains some mystical note absent elsewhere. What America has, and what it has always had, is money, reach, and a machinery built to make its image the centre of the world.
This was not accidental. It was policy. It was the soft arm of empire. To project yourself outward until your face is the first one people recognise in the mirror.
And so the American way of life became the default. Other cultures were filed into two neat drawers: savage if they challenged the story, exotic if they could be sold back to you.
If you are Black, your first cinematic self was likely African American, the rapper, the sitcom character, the hero of a Spike Lee joint. If you are white in Europe or Australia, it was the white faces of American sitcoms and stadium tours. Whoever you were, your first image of yourself came with an American accent.
Over time, Americans began to believe the story they had written. When you grow up in the country that built itself into the cultural Mecca, it is easy to think you are the best simply because you are on top. You forget, or never know, that the game was fixed long before you played it.
But the monopoly is breaking. Nigeria’s Nollywood now speaks across oceans. South Korean dramas leap borders. India’s Bollywood never needed permission to fill theatres. Spanish thrillers keep strangers awake at night. Slumdog Millionaire, Squid Game, Money Heist, Shōgun — all aimed partly at the American market because that is where the money is, but no longer about America.
And here is the thing. Black Americans, who fought to be seen in their own country, became the global face of Blackness. That is a remarkable achievement. It was also made possible by the same system that excluded everyone else. Now Africans, Caribbeans, and Afro-Latins tell their own stories without making room for American centrality, and the absence is noticed.
We grew up watching you. You did not grow up watching us. And now the internet has levelled the ground just enough for others to speak without hesitation. Tyla’s words land differently because the world no longer accepts America as the only arbiter of meaning.
America’s greatest export was never its art. It was the power to decide which art, and which identities, the world would see. That power is no longer yours alone. There is both justice and loss in that.