Lifted from the comments, which you’re reading of course, Christopher Rufo spies more dolts and liars in dumb academia:

And yet, none of these post-colonial theorists want to “decolonize” electricity, antibiotics, and other oppressive constructs of the Western world, in order to return to the authentic indigenous ways of the darkened teepee and dying from a small scratch on the leg. https://t.co/iL4cwZIqrr

— Christopher F. Rufo ⚔️ (@christopherrufo) April 17, 2026

Note that the first words uttered by Noah Romero, our Assistant Professor of Native American and Indigenous Studies, are hilariously untrue. Note too his framing of his own efforts – all that “undoing, dislodging, subverting” – as an “eradicative project,” one intended to purge Western civilisation of its, well, civilisation.

And presumably, by implication, to purge it of people like thee and me. Those who might protest. But remember, we’ve been assured that the term decolonise is “misinterpreted” by those who dare to look unimpressed, and that it is, despite appearances, entirely benign, used by higher beings with the most fragrant of intentions.

In entirely unrelated news, Hampshire College, where Mr Romero peddles his claptrap, among his fellow educators – sorry, fellow “activists” – is closing down permanently at the end of this year. Due to debt, accreditation issues, and steeply declining enrolment.

Whether this impending closure will impact Mr Romero’s primitivist fantasies of remaking the world, by dislodging and subverting things, or prompt any reflection on his life choices more generally, is a question I leave to the reader.

Conceivably, the world may soon be denied Mr Romero’s “projects that examine the anti-colonial pedagogies found in minority-led punk, skateboarding, and unschooling subcultures.”

I’ll give you a moment to bite down on your fist in sorrow.

But fear not, very similar noises, mouthed by eerily similar idiots, can be found elsewhere. More easily, and often, than one might wish.

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

The cabinets, in fairness, were fully transformed. || Engine trouble. || Timesaver. || Moves in sync with your, er, pedalling motion. || More than is strictly necessary. || The machine uprising, day 13. || Drivers, look away now. || Not reading the room. || Merry England. || Mouth and trousers. || How all women walk down corridors. || And then he deployed the wiper fluid. || Where to be at a concert. (h/t, Things) || Super Snack Busy. || Ballpoint. || Parklife. || Triplets, Sellotape, and scientific parenting. || I’m impressed by the size. || Prosthesis. || Pleasing the customer. || For when you want to play Pong, but really, really slowly. || Men Who Churn Out Romantic Novels, 1970. || Newcomerliness. || The super-deadly soap stairs. || A game about flinging. || First day. || And finally, some nimble fingering.

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On a musical theme, some items from the archives.

Don’t Oppress My People With Your White-Ass Folk Music.

Sheffield academics spend £1.5M to “decolonise” folk singing.

Little Harmony, Plenty Colon.

Decolonise Choir is all about healing and coexistence. No white devils allowed.

Have You Tried Less Tiresome Music?

On rap, the ‘N’ word, and dumb academia.

For those craving more, this is a pretty good place to start.

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

I thought that might get your attention.

And now, in the interests of raising awareness and fostering sensitivity, in the name of visibility, I bring you the travails of the modern cross-dressing man:

You’ve heard of foot fet!sh but are you prepared for transgender toe dysphoria pic.twitter.com/kIuJTGsjxV

— Exulansic (@TTExulansic) April 12, 2026

You see, that second toe “feels like a man toe to me.”

Oh, and the sound of his pee. That also induces feelings of dysphoria. Which I suppose one might rephrase as awareness of the pretence. The attempt to falsify and deceive. So as to venture where one shouldn’t:

Possibly on account of being a mentally ill man getting his kicks, his affirmation jollies, in the women’s toilets.

Previously: When your feet aren’t being affirmed as non-binary.

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

Not ball, rock. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || On bats and regurgitation. || Tidy, yes, but tricky to remove. || In case of fire. || Nommy-nommy-nom. || Nommy-nommy-nom 2. || So how was your day? || Wiggling. || When they do this, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to break their ankles. || Alum. || Last days of the Cavendish Hotel, 1962. || Yes, but does he look girly, girly? || I quite like the idea of Delusion Visibility Day. || She wants to talk about her manhood. || Door policy. || For enthusiasts of toilet plunging. || Kiddie pool pervert meets police. || The progressive retail experience, parts 716, 717, 718, 719 and 720. || Companion, at height. || Suboptimal scenario. || Chernobyl fungus. || Not our finest offering. || Expensive stuff. || Hyphen needed. || And finally, they’re anti-fatigue lasers.

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