Because some things bear repeating, some items from the archives:
The Clown Quarter Now Has An Engineering Division.
Rigidity and stiffness, and other sins.
Dr Riley goes on to denounce engineering’s “cultures of whiteness and masculinity,” and informs us that, “scientific knowledge itself is gendered, raced, and colonising.”
Says she, “This is about doing away with the concept [of rigour] altogether so we can welcome other ways of knowing. Other ways of being. It is about criticality and reflexivity.”
Yes, the design and construction of fighter jets, oil rigs and 1000-tonne tunnelling machines will one day be informed not by careful calculation, a knowledge of materials and thoroughly tested principles, but by criticality, reflexivity and “other ways of being.”
Dr Riley is the author of the little-read tome Engineering and Social Justice, which she describes as “an attempt to explain the lack of emphasis on social justice in engineering.”
The term “social justice” is, we’re told, “difficult to define” and “resists a concise and permanent definition,” a problem illustrated by the author’s own struggle to arrive at a convincing definition, despite deploying the term on every other page.
But apparently, engineers need to spend less time doing load-bearing calculations and more time pondering “radical protest” and “Marxist traditions.”
Needless to say, Dr Riley opens the book by congratulating herself for having devised “alternative ways of thinking” that are “challenging,” and which, for those less enlightened, may be “difficult to understand.”
As Dr Riley complains that expectations of rigour generate both inequality and “white male heterosexual privilege,” presumably she would rather we erased distinctions more broadly, between ability and mediocrity, and between diligence and half-arsedness. Though her own so-called scholarship, and indeed her employment, suggest that these wishes may already be coming true.
Creeping on schoolgirls deemed a right, a basis for applause.
Readers are invited to ponder the psychology in play at this terribly progressive school. The triumphal righteousness of compelling thirteen-year-old schoolgirls to undress in front of a mentally ill male or opportunist pervert. A mentally ill male or opportunist pervert that the schoolgirls do not trust. Resulting in the girls feeling frightened and upset.
Imagine that tingle of power. All wrapped in a drag of modish piety.
And – as so often – note just how readily the school administrators, these uniformly progressive women, will sell out their supposed sisters. The daughters of their neighbours. In order to look fashionable and therefore high-status…
In light of which, it’s difficult to see any plausible common ground. When activist attendees would rather jeer and preen, and call concerned parents bigots and racists, rather than address their actual concerns, it’s not obvious what room for compromise, or debate, there could be. Ultimately, either mentally ill boys and opportunist creeps can pretend to be girls and invade schoolgirls’ changing rooms, or they can’t.
Answers on a postcard, please.
A Mere Sliver Of His Brilliance.
I bring thee art. No, don’t thank me.
In the all-too-brief video below, filmed at Boston’s Proof Gallery in September 2011, Mr Fryer performs a thrilling and ambitious piece titled Wall Melody, in which he “explores” the theme of commitment by holding down one note on a child’s musical toy, while accompanied by an unspecified power tool, operated elsewhere by persons unknown, for reasons unclear.
Editor of leftist publication encounters tradesman.
And note that the plumber’s reticence on political matters – i.e., his professionalism and good manners – is viewed by Resnikoff as suspect.
Not one of us.
This, lest we forget, is the kind of effete meltdown that Mr Resnikoff felt important to share publicly with his peers, in order to establish his ‘progressive’ credentials.
If I may paraphrase the dynamic: “I feared that, despite his civility and professionalism, this broad-shouldered prole might at any moment sense my disdain for his kind, rise up in a rage, and then strangle me with his big, unmoisturised hands.”
Yes, I exaggerate, though not by much.
For those craving more, this is a pretty good place to start.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
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