davidthompson

After 15 Years, He Finally Cleaned The Place

Yes, a subtle layout overhaul. A light dusting. As is the way with such things, there may be one or two glitches to sort out, archived videos that need to be resized, etc. Do feel free to point them out. But overall, the blog should be more legible and responsive to a range of devices. Less squinting, I think.

Also, I now have a Twitter account. By all means follow me there. I mean, you wouldn’t want to miss anything, would you?

And because there’s always, but always, a catch…

It’s time to remind patrons that this rickety barge, on whose seating your arses rest, is kept afloat by the kindness of strangers. If you’d like to help it remain buoyant a while longer, and remain ad-free, there’s an orange button below with which to monetise any love. Debit and credit cards are accepted. For those wishing to express their love regularly, there’s a monthly subscription option top right. And if one-click haste is called for, my PayPal.Me page can be found here. Additionally, any Amazon UK shopping done via this link, or for Amazon US via this link, or via the buttons top right, results in a small fee for your host at no extra cost to you. 

For newcomers wishing to know more about what’s been going on here for the last decade and a half, in over 3,000 posts and 150,000 comments, the reheated series is a pretty good place to start - in particular, the end-of-year summaries, which convey the fullest flavour of what it is we do. A sort of blog concentrate. If you like what you find there… well, there’s lots more of that. If you can, do take a moment to poke through the discussion threads too. The posts are intended as starting points, not full stops, and the comments are where much of the good stuff is waiting to be found. And do please join in.

As always, thanks for the support, the comments, and the company. 

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Friday Ephemera

Smell it first. || Fortune favours the bold. || The thrill of cardboard. || Buzz Aldrin’s bits. || Meat in a tube. || One-minute pantomime. More, should you want it. || When women conspire. (h/t, Tim) || Counsel sought. (h/t, Perry) || His costume is better than yours. || The machine uprising, day 4. || With fractions of a wheel. || Jailhouse Rock. || Billie Jean. || Lucky or unlucky? || Fierce animal death-match. || Naptime detected. || Incoming. || Incoming 2. || Not the best place to lose a shoe. || Best not to, methinks. Apparently, it was considered “extremely erotic.” || Assorted Victorian exercise machines. || Mouse pad detected. || Taking dad to the cleaners. || And finally, a moment of manly triumph.

Reheated (70)

As I’m a little busy, more items from the archives.

How Dare You Not Defer To My Lack Of Self-Possession.

A “queer person and educator” is asked not to swear and scream in the workplace. Loud outrage ensues.

Objections to being shouted at, and sworn at, are framed with great haste as a sign of complicity in oppression: “Tone-policing is rooted in colonialism and white supremacy,” we’re told. In short, then, when a suitably black or gay person shouts at you, you “need to be quiet and listen” - and by implication, you should promptly defer, however wrong or ridiculous, or nakedly opportunist, the shouting person may be. You must “validate” their rage, and any incoherence, with lots of silent nodding, before rolling submissively onto your back. Because, being members of a Designated Victim Group, even if irrelevant or based on nothing whatsoever, they matter, and clearly, you don’t. What with all that “privilege” you apparently have. And because reciprocal courtesies just ain’t woke. It’s the progressive pecking order. Know your place. 

You’re A Monster, Just Admit It.

If you aren’t keen to become fat, activist William Hornby thinks you must be racist.

Mr Hornby is, of course, “raising awareness,” a mission that entails steering his followers to a Fat Liberation Syllabus For Revolutionary Leftists, where we learn that, “Fat liberation is a radical anti-capitalist, anti-colonial, anti-state movement that was started by fat Black and Brown disabled queer and trans people.” And where we’re told, quite emphatically, that a reluctance to become fat is “intrinsically entangled with white supremacy, anti-Blackness, settler colonialism, and capitalism.” And therefore, obviously, really, really bad. The goal, then, for all chubby-and-enlightened people, is to “abolish capitalism and settler colonial states like the US,” along with “abolishing prisons and police,” and dismantling the “fatphobic logic of productivity, discipline, and personal responsibility.” One can only hope that this revolutionary project doesn’t involve stairs or significant exertion.  

It Says ‘Poison’ In Large Red Letters. 

A reminder that the absurd and the sinister aren’t mutually exclusive.

Friday Ephemera

It’s a lot to take in. || A miscalculation occurred. || Not ideal, really. || A light snack, owl style. || Little white lie brings many tips. || First gurgle. || “Children realise early on that the fit between forefinger and nostril is pretty good.” || She helpfully has her pronouns tattooed on her face. || Or perhaps you’d prefer dining option C…? || The progressive retail experience, parts 438 and 439. || The progressive retail experience, interrupted version. || Topple “white supremacy” with lettuce, only $58. || Go on, take one for the team. || Attitude detected. || Why spiders don’t rule the Earth. || Typo of note. || Parenting. || Little helper. || A project for the weekend. || And finally, he does this better than you do.

Reheated (69)

For newcomers and the nostalgic, more items from the archives:

Our Betters In Distress.  

At the University of York, scenes of theatrical fretting.

Readers may note that the agonising – in which any depiction of a monkey immediately conjures thoughts of black people - does rather speak to the weirdly dogmatic assumptions of the agonised, rather than the object being agonised about, or how said object is generally understood. It must be those intersectional lenses we hear so much about. 

Our Betters Victorious, But Still Unhappy.  

Los Angeles Times columnist has considerate neighbours and is therefore, naturally, outraged.

As readers may be a little confused by the air of displeasure, I should point out that no history of neighbourly rancour is offered as an excuse – no disputes over hedges or noisy pets. Nothing of that sort is mentioned at all. Ms Heffernan’s neighbours are, it seems, to be frowned upon, indeed despised, in print, in a newspaper they may well read, simply for failing to vote for Mr Biden.

Modern Love. 

If it wasn’t complicated and unsatisfying, everyone would do it.

To illustrate this terribly progressive lifestyle arrangement, we’re introduced to a Brooklynite comedian and podcaster named Billy, his girlfriend Megan, and his girlfriend Megan’s other boyfriend Kyle.

Land Of The Before Times. 

An attempt is made to glamorise a fashionably radical hunter-gatherer lifestyle.

Miracle Occurs, Authorities Confounded

Two prisoners at New Jersey’s only women’s prison have become pregnant after having sex with a transgender inmate. The women had engaged in “consensual sexual relationships with another incarcerated person,” the state’s department of corrections told NJ.com. They were being held at Edna Mahan Correctional Facility at Union Township, about 16 miles west of New York City. The transgender prisoner, Demi Minor, 27, who is serving 30 years for manslaughter, has been moved to another prison for young adults.

Clearly, dad material.

As a result of the pregnancies, the New Jersey Corrections Department said it was currently reviewing the policy for housing transgender incarcerated persons with the intention of “implementing minor modifications.”

Maybe we’re the ones in the mirror universe, where everything is slightly askew.

Via Darleen in the comments.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Friday Ephemera

The scent of a woman. || Two types of pleasure face. || Change of plan. And yes, everyone survived. || Deploy. || Their drinks are fancier than yours. || Frame the dog. || That’s exactly how I would’ve done it. || This watch is thinner than yours. || Incoming. || Incoming 2. || Never mind the scenery, just watch where you step. || Today’s word is snug. || The thrill of innovation. || The thrill of grocery shopping. || Philadelphia street scenes. || Why dogs don’t rule the Earth. || “Are you? Are you? Are you?” || Somewhat related. || He loves you, so there’s that. || I have questions. || Tidying. || Two points, perhaps related. || An invitation to chat, possibly over coffee. || And finally, thrillingly, a sighting of bra and panties.

Those Critical Faculties

Come, let us dip a toe in the world of woke theatre criticism. From the pages of Intermission magazine, where the Toronto Star’s theatre critics, Aisling Murphy and Karen Fricker, applaud each other, and thereby themselves, for seeing an indigenous play and submitting to conditions on what they may say about it:

We both responded really positively to the show. But the reason we’re not writing a traditional review is because [playwright and director] Kim Harvey did not invite reviews of this Toronto premiere production of Kamloopa. This follows on from the world premiere production in 2018 in Vancouver in which she invited Indigenous women to write love letters to the show but did not invite traditional reviews.

You see, for Ms Harvey, our unflinching and very indigenous creative person, “staging theatre productions is a form of Indigenous ceremony,” and is therefore, conveniently, exempt from customary feedback, i.e., reviews of a kind that paying customers might have found useful, had they been available. And so, reviewers of pallor, should they be permitted, must first attend a circle, in which they will be told, in advance, how artful and profound the work in question is, and what they should say about it. After all, it’s so much easier on the ego, and any teetering vanity, if no acknowledgement of any shortcoming is permitted.

Despite not being brown and magical beings themselves, Ms Murphy and Ms Fricker are keen to show their approval of, and deference to, this artistic innovation:

Here, white critics were invited, but with the caveat of listening and bearing witness to Kim’s artistic philosophies first: to me, that felt not only fair but really rich. 

Bearing witness, you say. To artistic philosophies. Because you can’t just turn up with tickets in the hope of entertainment.

When Your Opinions Are Social Jewellery

The TRIGGERnometry duo interview Rob Henderson, coiner of the term luxury beliefs:

Luxury beliefs I define as ideas and opinions that confer status on the upper class, while often inflicting costs on the lower classes… The way that people used to demonstrate their social class was through material goods, through expensive items… Today, it’s not necessarily the case… [Affluent] students will often downplay their wealth or even lie about how rich their parents are… [Now,] it’s luxury beliefs. It’s the unusual, novel viewpoints that they’re expressing to distinguish themselves. They crave distinction, that’s the key goal here…

An easy way to show that you’re not a member of the riff-raff, the masses, is to hold the opposite opinion, or a strange opinion that maybe doesn’t make sense, because it shows you’re not one of them. It’s not just the opinion itself, but the way that you express it. If you express it using vocabulary that no-one has ever heard of, for example… You often are not paying the price for your luxury beliefs, but even if you do, it’s still not nearly the same as the cost inflicted on the lower classes if they were to adopt those luxury beliefs too. […]

I talked to a friend of mine who was telling me, “When I set my Tinder radius to one mile, just around the university, and I see the bios of the women, a lot of their profiles say things like ‘poly’ or ‘keeping it casual’ – basically, they’re not interested in anything too serious.” He says something like half of them have something like that in their bio. And then he said, “But when I expand the radius on my Tinder to five miles, to include the rest of the city and the more run-down areas beyond the university bubble, half the women are single moms.” And basically, the luxury beliefs of the former group, the educated group, trickled down and ended up having this outsize effect on the people who are less fortunate, who don’t have the [social and] economic capital of the people who can afford that belief.

Several examples are given, along with their likely effects if enacted by the cash-strapped and credulous. One or two of them have of course been touched on here before. Indeed, we have a tag for such things, via which you can find one of Mr Henderson’s early articles on the subject.

Mr Henderson’s Substack can be found here.

Also, open thread.

Friday Ephemera

I did not see that coming. || The adult in the room. || I blame magnetic rays. || Brisk and bumpy. || Trolley problems. || Just like Spider-Man. || The joys of public transport, part 4,867. || Are they peaceful? || Perilous path taken. || The progressive retail experience, parts 436 and 437. || Five minutes of rush-hour McDonald’s. || Small act. (h/t, Perry) || Great save, I guess. || Not-at-all-weird trans-drag for kiddies. || Day 98 of girlhood. || Overgrown brats in need of belated spanking. || The bleeding edge of yesteryear. (h/t, Things) || The two-headed boy of Bengal. || Milky scenes. || Incoming. || They wanted extra sauce but they didn’t want to pay for it. || And finally, via Tim, a relaxing time was had.

Reheated (68)

For newcomers and the nostalgic, more items from the archives:

Hush Now, Brown Person, I’ll Do The Talking.

Woke academic bemoans racism, while casually erasing agency from anyone brownish who happens to disagree with her.

For Ms Beltrán, then, those who tire of racial tribalism and identitarian drama, and who prefer to be engaged with as individuals, are merely surrendering to “whiteness” and “white supremacy,” and are therefore the enemy, traitorous, or at best, dupes. And for Ms Beltrán, the extremist is not the person who fixates on race as the overriding characteristic and sole basis for “recognition” - as the ideological mass around which all else must revolve - but the person who doesn’t.

Your Guilt Has Been Determined Via Pantone Colour Chart.

A mandatory course for dentists is announced. Confessions of pallor are expected.

If you plan to be a dentist and attend the University of Pennsylvania School of Dental Medicine, it seems you must first submit to condescension and insults, and accusations of being either a bigot or an enabler of bigotry, based solely on unchangeable aspects of your appearance. Because apparently you can’t do dentistry without the weird political woo of dogmatic parasites who’ve managed to insert themselves into yet another sphere of life.

Her Unspeakable Woes (2). 

Haughty bitches claim to be oppressed, while disdaining the little people who serve them drinks.

Incongruous Men

Further to the eye-widening incident mentioned in the later paragraphs here, another taste of trans ideology in Canadian women’s shelters:

At first, Jane says she’d just tried to avoid Max [a pseudonym], who she described as being over 6’ tall and obviously male. But just weeks after arriving, Jane says she caught him in the hall outside of her room, completely nude but for a bra he was holding to his chest as he modelled his body in the full-length mirror near Jane’s door. He was fully intact and was not covering his genitalia in any way…

Jane attempted to complain to staff over what had happened, but says her concerns were given a low priority and dismissed… “They just said ‘some people don’t respect boundaries.’ Nothing was done.”  

Other incidents, including the bullying of a severely disabled resident and the repeated theft of kitchen knives, along with threats to use them on other residents, prompted further complaints.

But the staff member quickly expressed that they were more concerned about Jane having perceived Max as male.

The man in question was, belatedly, moved elsewhere. However, a second dysmorphic man, also unstable, appeared in the shelter, resulting in additional questioning of the shelter’s effectively unisex policy. Which in turn had consequences for the complainant:

“We are a trans-friendly house. We will be having more trans women coming in. So, the decision has been made that this is not the right place for you,” the manager says, before accusing Jane of being “dishonest” about her position on trans rights during her intake… “The fact is, you’re transphobic. We are a non-transphobic agency, and it is not appropriate for you to be living here,” the manager is heard saying, “I asked you when you moved in, and you lied — you said you weren’t transphobic.”

Given the subject matter, it’s not a happy read. But it does, I think, convey where modish pretensions can lead. 

Update:

In the comments, sH2 juxtaposes the shelter’s annoyance that Jane should perceive Max as male with Max’s evident delight in displaying his penis. “Hard not to,” he adds. Well, in the case above, and in the case of Tyler Porter, mentioned previously, and doubtless in many others, I suspect that’s rather the point.