Are you Canadian and feeling unwell? Fear not, I bring thrilling news.
Oddments For The Weekend
Including some “public disorder” in Wales; the periodic table of tools; a solution to truancy; very political parents and children’s mental health; and a possible explanation for why cyclists are unloved.
Maybe If We Stood Further Back
“I wanted to make a work… about Britain for the British public.”
Our betters make art, get fat cheque.
Wooing And Titillation, The Transgender Way
Don’t All Rush At Once
Do you know of any “artists and visionaries,” or people “good at spreadsheets”? Because there may be a job going, come the revolution.
Oddments For The Weekend
Including scenes of utter toolery; a thing that isn’t rocket science; a brief history of can openers; a matter of some urgency; and when immobilising ambulances is just radical larks, baby.
Mashed Potatoes And Gravy
An educational lecture by Professor James O’Flannery.
Can You Feel The Progress Yet?
On unmanning male heroes; on the sly malice of the activist class; on chronic tardiness as a progressive credential; and when a bewigged pervert takes an interest in the panties of schoolgirls, and progressive women rush to his defence.
The ‘M’ Word
On Britain’s NHS, where pretending is everything:
One might think that the employees having babies and therefore on maternity leave are, in fact, by definition, mothers. One might even think that a hospital, and a maternity hospital in particular, is a place where physical realities of this kind would be difficult to avoid.
Oddments For The Weekend
Including some inadvertent melting; some meaty nourishment; mastering a foreign tongue; how to wage interstellar war; and the perils of conducting a court hearing via Zoom.
Our Betters Make Plans
“What do we eat during the revolution?”
Turns out you can’t smash capitalism and agitate the proletariat without a solid meal plan.
Umbrage Detected
They’re upset that they’ve been asked to participate in their own survival.
You see, she should “just be able to have” things.
Or Maybe You’re Just A Nasty, Spiteful Person
Curiously, given the stated importance of “sensitivity” and being mindful of what things might mean, we aren’t invited to ponder the kind of person who would resent someone else’s wedding photo. And then complain about it. Or whether such neurotic affectations, these unhappy mental habits, are something to be actively encouraged. In the name of progress. At a university.
When your Zoom-meeting décor is deemed oppressive. One of these.
Oddments For The Weekend
Including the less obvious hazards of smoking cannabis; the hunt for optimal toasting; the North-South divide as expressed in 1970; a man and his periods; and ominous scenes from the machine uprising.
I Know, Let’s All Pretend That Behaviour Doesn’t Matter
On crime, punishment, and the progressive flattening of values:
Flattening values, such that the criminal and their victims are somehow equal in moral worth, is a staple of progressive schtick. But it seems to me that the decision to try to steal someone’s dog is precisely how you know that that person’s wellbeing is of very low importance.
There follow some quite vivid examples of the schtick in question.
And In Never-Happy News
Because the scolding must never end.
And In Saving-The-World News
Sometimes an example of what you’re talking about comes along that seems almost too on-the-nose.
Oddments For The Weekend
Including a well-endowed chap; the arrival of fish and chips; the thrill of competitive bed-making; two-mile-wide glass domes and other abandoned megaprojects; and when flash is not your friend.
Her Brain Stole The Charity’s Money
When woke piety is tissue-thin camouflage for a shitty human being, part 4,022:
Ms Xahra Saleem, formerly Yvonne Maina, is the co-founder of the activist group All Black Lives Bristol, and was hailed by Rife magazine as one of Bristol’s “most influential under-30s.” Ms Saleem’s merry band of megaphone-waving statue-topplers have been the subject of endless gushing and deferential commentary, with the local university subsequently promising to “decolonise” All Of The Oppressive Things.
Discarded placards and assorted detritus from the group’s protests were fondled reverentially by staff of the local museum and stored for later worship as holy artefacts.
Alas, the reverence proved to be misplaced.
It Did Not Go Entirely To Plan
On what happens when, in the name of sensitivity, the police start hiring the sexually dysmorphic:
Apparently, these be-wigged individuals are bringing tolerance and understanding by harassing people manically, and repeatedly lying, and stalking women and sending them headless birds, and strangling people, and attacking a woman with a hammer. Oh, and hoarding explosives, obviously.