Afternoon Tea 12.31.2020 - Special Twisted Edition

A parable for the modern age

December 31, 2020

(Editor’s Note: While we committed to hibernation until the new year, the events of the last week have forced us off the bench to document this. How could we call ourselves the Afternoon Tea without reporting on this critical Tea-related development.)

I’ve never been to a Circle K, but between this and what happened to Bill & Ted outside of one, I must visit one when we’re free to move about the country again. In Elyria Ohio, a true nemesis moment occurred on Christmas Eve. 

We all know what you’re here for. Oh my God the memes. Originating on non-white social media late last week, a can of Twisted Tea quickly became synonymous with a gun, superheroes, and even divine justice.

The meme was unique in that it was explicitly a rejection of racism and an example of the immediate consequences that“Racist AF” public officials and internet personalities seem to avoid.

Which is why I was particularly interested in how much Huey P. Newton-style “guns are needed to protect from the state” content I found.

And there was even an understanding that getting your ass kicked in a way that will go down internet history, might be a touch triggering for the racist when he logs back on.

It just spiraled from there.

By Monday, the meme had reached what I’ve started to refer to as the “Endgame Plateau.” This is when the meme gets so popular, video editors, gif artists, and ‘shoppers pull out Adobe Creative Suite and use HQ assets. Usually from the 4k Avengers: Endgame movie.

Lastly, even some “tag your friends” memes that documented all of the leftist protest weapons used this year except the fabled milkshakes.

I would embed the video remixes, but YouTube is playing whack-a-mole with them so the links might not be valid by the time you read this. They’re wonderful, so these aren’t valid, a quick google search should get you a fresh re-upload. The video remixes include syncing up the smack to Phil Collins, Queen, Ludacris & Lil Jon, Dave Chappelle’s Lil Jon, Bruno Mars, Bruno Mars (Uptown Funk), Neil Diamond, and my personal favorite Dave Matthews. Since most are “age restricted” and can’t be previewed, here’s the Bruno Mars one.

And no one will think less of you if you watch it on repeat for a while.

Ostensibly, the police were not called, and charges were filed. Because sometimes, you just get what’s coming to you.

Yours,T

P.S. Here’s the quote of the year and maybe the decade, from one Timothy Kreider:

“…if we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

The tumblr kids asked him about it, and his response “I am a meme now, and so are you” was quite powerful. Take this with passage you into 2021.

But the things people love about you aren’t necessarily the things you want to be loved for. They decide they like you for reasons completely outside your control, of which you’re often not even conscious: it’s certainly not because of the big act you put on, all the charm and anecdotes you’ve calculated for effect. (And if your act does fool someone, it only makes you feel like a successful fraud, and harbor some secret contempt for them — the contempt of a con artist for his mark — plus now you’re condemned to keep up that act forever, lest She Realize.) My last girlfriend found my flaws, the things that annoy even me about me, amusing. When you break up with someone, you don’t just lose them, but a version of yourself. You don’t even get to know what your children will remember you for; it probably won’t be what you thought were the important moments.

But, as The Velveteen Rabbit teaches, we don’t become fully real except in other people’s eyes, and in their affections. At some point you have to accept that other people’s perceptions of you are as valid as (and probably a lot more objective than) your own. This may mean letting go of a false or outdated self-image, including some cherished illusions of unique unlovability. For years I felt guilty and fraudulent every time my girlfriend called me a good boyfriend until, eventually, I realized she’d actually made me one. It’s getting letters from readers or corresponding with fellow authors — certainly not writing or publishing books — that makes me feel like a real writer. And it wasn’t until I started teaching, and my students treated me as though I were an adult, that I noticed I’d accidentally become one.

You are loved, even if you can't see it right now.