By Popular Demand
An open thread. In which to share links and bicker.
Oh, and via Dicentra, and in a shocking turn of events, here’s an intersectional feminist – pronouns she/her/hers – telling you what to do:
As you might imagine, she has some further thoughts.
She assumes that 1 “white people” follow her twitter feed and, 2 care what she says. Dubious on both counts.
I am white, never heard of her, and don’t care.
I am white, never heard of her, and don’t care.
I see. So you admit you are an unwoke patriarchal misogynist racist.
Razorfist on Venezuela (language NSFW): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52DRLOVB2w8
I’ve studiously avoided the Oscars for years … I have better things to do than listen to a 3 hour leftwing harangue … sticking wooden matches under my finger nails then lighting them is oodles more tempting.
Unable to avoid all news (like the tribute to Carol Burnett by Billy Porter) I heard that the best picture award to Green Book had contemporary segregationists upset all over Twitter.
Now that happens to be the only one of the nominated movies I’ve seen. I went to it without a clue of who was in it or what it was about.
And it was a great film! I was thoroughly engaged and not even ONE cgi special effect!
I don’t know how there are claims it is somehow “pro-Trump” or that it panders to “white fragility”. I saw nothing of the sort. Indeed, the sometimes casualness of, and take-it-for-granted, racism against the character of Dr. Shirley is startling. Here’s a Southern Gentleman of Palor who just welcomed the Shirley Trio to perform, shook Shirley’s hand, introduced him proudly around the reception in Shirley’s honor and when Shirley headed towards the men’s room, tried to insist his relieve himself outside in a ramshackle outhouse.
How is that pandering to white fragility? Indeed, Tony Lip is no “white savior” but is crude, insulated and racist. The film doesn’t shirk in it’s portrayal of a guy who was more petty hood than maitre d’.
This is what identity politics does…beat down any narrative that people can learn from each other regardless of deep-seated prejudices.
(like the tribute to Carol Burnett by Billy Porter)
Lol. I didn’t even have to look. I knew what you were referring to.
Further to the intersectional knitting drama, mentioned recently, Vox has joined the pile-on, giving the Gratuitous Scolding Community another chance to air its pieties.
I forget where I saw it but I was quite taken with a particular neologism for our current generation of handheld touchscreen devices:
fondleslabs.
fondleslabs.
Oh, absolutely. It’s a mix of ergonomics and something less tangible, desirability. As I’ve said before, you can find more evidence of aesthetic attention in an upmarket phone – its design and UI animations – than in my local contemporary art galleries, where the idea of sensual pleasure has been all but abandoned.
people that develop this sort of attitude, this solipsistic narcissism, are those who either never or very rarely engaged in objective endeavors.
Well, it’s certainly not uncommon to find these attitudes among people employed in areas where being wrong repeatedly has no obvious consequences. A comparably pathological unrealism expressed in the world of surgery or engineering would most likely be revealed and entail some kind of career penalty. But in the enclaves of Angry Studies and the media, not so much. I can’t offhand think of how being repeatedly, even hilariously wrong has impeded the careers and in-group standing of, say, Polly Toynbee or Owen Jones. And Dr Ben Pitcher, mentioned here, is still being paid for being laughably wrong-headed.
And so, for instance, Laurie Penny can tell her young and credulous readers to “fuck money” and wage “war” on capitalism – an attitude unlikely to appeal to potential employers – knowing full well that she will never face the consequences of such adolescent posturing. Likewise, the race-hustling mediocrities who teach minority students that grammar and spelling are racist, and therefore to be rejected, and who urge students to tell potential employers “fuck you.” And who do all this knowing that, by the time the bill comes due and the consequences of such attitudes become difficult to ignore, they will have moved on to the next batch of suckers.
As so often, the dynamic is parasitic.
Fondleslab was, I think, the Register. Back before it became quite so “woke” itself that it fired Tim Worstall as a guest writer. But they still have Simon Travaglia’s BOFH, so that’s something.
I like the term, use it myself for the latest incarnation of iPad that I use. An apt description.
Fondleslab was, I think, the Register.
A few years ago, I noticed, belatedly, the trend for device unboxing videos. In which people would film themselves unboxing some expensive new purchase. The sight of someone slowly and lovingly unpeeling the protective film from a phone display – and oohing with delight – took on almost pornographic connotations.
I heard that the best picture award to Green Book had contemporary segregationists upset all over Twitter.
Apparently cute little zoot-suited Spike Lee threw a fit right in the hall. Who’s in charge, anyway?
(Contemporary segregationists is perfect, by the way. I’m so old I remember back about thirteen years when “all the same under the skin” was in. That promptly flipped to “celebrate diversity”. Now it’s: love/hate diversity and auto-racism, their’s and your own! Who’s in charge, anyway?)
The best use for a fondleslab is to use it as an amusement or interactive learning device (as well as studying pictures of swimsuits) while watching TV, especially during the witterings of the BBC.
“I’ve studiously avoided the Oscars for years”
I got to the point a long time ago where I automatically assume that any movie nominated for one of the “big” awards (I don’t count the technical stuff) is probably terrible. There are a number of films that I’ve actually heard good things about, word-of-mouth, but just can’t be bothered with because all the Academical fawning over them strongly indicates eventual disappointment.
Anyway, they’ve been making talkies for almost 90 years now. Nobody’s ever going to watch them all, so any new ones had better be pretty damn compelling to grab my attention. I mean – believe it or not – I’ve still never seen Casablanca. So what, precisely, makes Woke Minority Wxmyn vs. The Patriarchy more worthy of my time than rectifying that oversight?
Absolutely sod-all, that’s what.
Anyway, they’ve been making talkies for almost 90 years now.
There are some great silent films as well. Wings, the Chaplin stuff, the Harold Lloyd stuff.
I was wondering why I heard nothing from the Oscars (I haven’t watched in decades either) regarding They Shall Not Grow Old. According to wiki…
A likely story…
This is tediously long, but it’s a fascinating study of a woman quite literally going insane: http://old.lithub.com/mia-the-liberal-men-we-love/
Well at least she had company getting there…
You can all stop looking. This lady has found the originator of toxic masculinity. 18th c Dandies, hang your head in shame!
https://mobile.twitter.com/_alexrowland/status/1100074018458218497
Right little potty-mouth, isn’t she? Mind you, she has a (minor) point about men’s clothing: Brummell did help to change the fashion from ornate to simple. (Though the French Revolution had more of an effect: women’s clothing changed even more than men’s, in some ways.) However, he also made it possible for comparatively poor men to appear middle-class, and most women actually envy men because they rarely have to worry about what to wear on a variety of formal occasions.
As for Brummell being the inventor of ‘toxic masculinity’, Ms Rowland massively fails to make her case, particularly since she never quite manages to define what ‘toxic masculinity’ might be, other than cat-calling women in the street. And really, I don’t think one can blame that on Mr Brummell. She seems to think that if men could wear flamboyant clothes, they’d become un-toxic (or something); but I don’t think that 18th-century men, however gorgeous their garments, were less…toxic (whatever that means) than their 19th-century equivalents.
Summary: the argument is moronic.
She seems a charming and delightful person:
https://twitter.com/suchnerve/status/1100112577273778177
Amy Butcher is an award-winning essayist and author…
Evidently, this is the sort of thing that will win you writing awards. I realize she must be really good, because I’ve read this passage four times and I still can’t make heads or tails of it:
Seriously — can somebody diagram this for me?
Their behavior. Riiiight.
So these men who’ve stood beside you for years, through sickness and health, for better or worse, are suddenly misbehaving. Not that the men’s behavior has changed at all, mind you. Rather, they’re all on the hook because they have…
To borrow a phrase from our gracious host: one can’t help but notice the word “wrongly” doing a lot of heavy lifting in this sentence. I mean, just five paragraphs earlier she herself writes: “He didn’t find palatable my rage, the anger I felt for Trump, for the men and women who voted for him…”
Still, I like that the essay has a happy ending: thousands of men freed from a life of hysterical outrage and misery, and thousands of women free to knit genitalia-themed garments until they die of neglect, and are eaten by their cats. That’s a proper “happily ever after” if ever I saw one.
Sue, that twatter thread was nauseating. Being possibly the farthest thing from a fashion expert that exists, it strikes me BOTH the “before” and “after” images were representing insanely rich people. I would think the vast majority of men and women wore largely functional outfits, and still today a huge proportion of men choose clothing based on a combination of functionality and comfort.
Her comment that men simply don’t understand the plight of women in this regard is particularly galling, as she studiously ignores the fact that the only people who will punish a man for wearing precisely what he likes are potential romantic interests. Well, and his mother.
Her comment that men simply don’t understand the plight of women in this regard is particularly galling, as she studiously ignores the fact that the only people who will punish a man for wearing precisely what he likes are potential romantic interests. Well, and his mother.
I was struck by the lack of reciprococity in her attitude. So men who are desperately short of physical attention and validation should be more empathetic towards women who are constantly being bombarded with people telling them how hot they are — OK, seems reasonable. But then she never so much as hints that women should be more empathetic towards validation-starved men; and I suspect that, if you suggested this to a group of feminists, the screams of “Male entitlement!” would be loud enough to make you permanently deaf.
today a huge proportion of men choose clothing based on a combination of functionality and comfort.
I am a middle aged man whose once-dark hair and eyebrows have faded and largely abandoned me, so that what remains is a grey, washed out, slightly jowly face on top of the paunchy body of a 9-5 desk jockey.
Thank God for well fitting suits, crisp shirts and ties with strong colours!
If I have Beau Brummell to thank for this, then I will raise a glass to him later.
When I see my work colleagues of a certain age affecting open-neck chic, or the smart casual look, I feel the urge to tell them that a suit, shirt and tie is their friend!
I have found that older women I have worked with have especially strong views on the matter.
When I go into battle, I put on a good suit. Cufflinks, pocket square, and necktie may be chosen based on the nature of the battle, and that’s more than enough ornamentation for me. The suit is equal parts uniform and armor, and does well to lend me the authority I need to convince elected officials to do what’s necessary. As a positive side effect, I have good evidence to lend credence to the cliche about a woman loving a man in uniform.
When I go home, I put on a pair of jeans that are as faded and thinning as James’ (no, not that James) once-dark hair. A t-shirt and perhaps a flannel button-up or fleece pullover complete the ahn-sahm. I sincerely hope that Alexandra doesn’t shed a tear for me, as I cannot insist forcefully enough that geeky t-shirts, faded jeans, and warm pullovers are really all I need, high fashion be damned.
Never mind the idea of “a whole culture where men are *aching* just to BE SEEN, to feel cute or special or unique…” is patently absurd. Sure, there’s a sub-culture of Brooklyn hipsters desperate to be noticed, but they’re hardly representative of the wide world outside their enclave. Men just want to be valued, same as everybody in every era. Most find value in their deeds, in what they contribute to their families, their friends, their neighborhoods. Those who *ache* just to BE SEEN and feel cute are pitiable creatures who should probably seek to be valued for something deeper than their fashion sense.
But no — I should probably just sit down and shut up, and let the “bespoke seamstress and writer under the stern supervision of her feline quality control manager” who grew up on a sailboat in the Bahamas lecture me some more about how powerless and miserable I am because of the power of Jermyn Street.
And on the same general topic, ‘toxic masculinity’, here’s an interesting snippet I read just this morning:
“It was coined in the mythopoetic men’s movement of the 1980s and ’90s, motivated in part as a reaction to second-wave feminism. Through male-only workshops, wilderness retreats, and drumming circles, this movement promoted a masculine spirituality to rescue what it referred to as the “deep masculine”— a protective, “warrior” masculinity—from toxic masculinity. Men’s aggression and frustration was, according to the movement, the result of a society that feminized boys by denying them the necessary rites and rituals to realize their true selves as men.”
(From The Atlantic.)
So feminism got the term from… MRAs!
(From The Atlantic.)
Caveat emptor.
Don’t tell me it isn’t hilarious that a bunch of blokes in a drumming circle getting in touch with their Jungian archetypes invented a concept adored by feminists the world over.
. . . a bunch of blokes in a drumming circle . . .
Ah, yes.
“I love my community and my neighbors, and I would be honored to have your voice and your vote in my campaign.”
Of course she would though I think the neighbours bit is stretching it somewhat……
Damn whiteys and their *shuffles deck* giving money to charity
https://twitter.com/davidlammy/status/1100807931233226752?s=21
Damn whiteys and their *shuffles deck* giving money to charity
Well in some cases, and I think this is one of them, this is true. African countries that are more marginally successful would likely do better without white people’s “help”. Plenty of wealthy black folk around to do that. Regarding aid in general, it will never happen but I’d really like to see these people concentrate on getting just ONE miserable turd world country up and running instead of spreading the effort across the planet. If such were to happen, I would not be surprised if the target country was worse off than all the other ones after a few years.
Well in some cases, and I think this is one of them, this is true.
Oh I agree. That’s very much the message of Dambisa Moyo’s ‘Dead Aid’. Lammy doesn’t care about that, or Africans though. He’s just a thick opportunistic gramdstander wanting to feel good about himself while doing sweet FA. Aid is why Robert Mugabe has a net worth of over $1Bn.
Oh I agree. That’s very much the message of Dambisa Moyo’s ‘Dead Aid’. Lammy doesn’t care about that, or Africans though. He’s just a thick opportunistic gramdstander wanting to feel good about himself while doing sweet FA. Aid is why Robert Mugabe has a net worth of over $1Bn.
Agree. Also in regard to ‘Dead Aid’ from a religious perspective there’s Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert’s ‘When Helping Hurts’.