Terms And Conditions Apply (2)
Comet Melanie Mae – that’s what it says here – is in no way high-maintenance:
My gender changes depending on the day, or week, or even depending on the hour. It also means the pronouns I’m comfortable with can change too.
To avoid a pronoun gaffe, and crushing underfoot the meek and marginalised, you must first check the colour-coded bracelets.
Pink means she/her; yellow means they/them; and blue means he/him.
And because this arrangement isn’t sufficiently complicated, or enough of an imposition on your time and sanity, said bracelets can be combined. It’s fully customisable. So do pay attention.
See also Laurie Penny and her ongoing project of self-description.
Via here.
So do pay attention.
LOL. That.
Well, if someone goes out of their way to make interaction as complicated as possible, with rules and preconditions that can change several times a day, it generally occurs to me that there are better uses of my time.
Posted from Wikipedia without further comment:
[Walter] Mitty is a meek, mild man with a vivid fantasy life. In a few dozen paragraphs, he imagines himself a wartime pilot, an emergency-room surgeon, and a devil-may-care killer. Although the story has humorous elements, there is a darker and more significant message underlying the text, leading to a more tragic interpretation of the Mitty character. Even in his heroic daydreams, Mitty does not triumph, several fantasies being interrupted before the final one sees Mitty dying bravely in front of a firing squad. In the brief snatches of reality that punctuate Mitty’s fantasies, the reader meets well-meaning but insensitive strangers who inadvertently rob Mitty of some of his remaining dignity.
The character’s name has come into more general use to refer to an ineffectual dreamer and appears in several dictionaries. The American Heritage Dictionary defines a Walter Mitty as “an ordinary often ineffectual person who indulges in fantastic daydreams of personal triumphs”
Posted from Wikipedia without further comment
It’s funny how The Quest To Be Interesting can be so very, very tiresome.
crushing underfoot the meek and marginalised
She doesn’t look very meek to me.
She doesn’t look very meek to me.
They rarely do.
It’s no wonder it’s reduced to talking to itself. Everyone else is too terrified.
She’s better looking than I expected. She’s what used to be called a gamine, a concept that took into account the gender fluidity, or rather the teetering between playful ragamuffin and sexually mature woman, that she’s trying to express with her colored bracelets.
I think she wants to be a diversity trainer when she grows up. She’s playing out for the camera the kind of role-playing exercise that “models” how to deal with protected categories. She seems to be role playing the role playing, which is even weirder.
And because this arrangement isn’t sufficiently complicated, or enough of an imposition on your time and sanity…
The argument is that the seemingly complicated rules become simple if you just have empathy, and that even if you get it wrong, empathy makes your apology sincere and immediate.
Empathy in this case means that instead of strangers and co-workers being dealt with according to custom and broadly accepted categorizations, everyone in the room is carrying on a 24-365 improvisation and you have to be on your toes and “yes, and” everything.
And empathy means putting out of your head the possibility that the lectures and the jumping through hoops and the apologies might possibly be the goal of the whole exercise. No, it’s authentic self-invention that we’re privileged to witness from one moment to the next.
She seems to be role playing the role playing, which is even weirder.
The extent to which TikTok seems to be populated by such creatures is quite remarkable. Though I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that a platform that’s ideal for the wearyingly self-absorbed should attract the wearingly self-absorbed.
the possibility that the lectures and the jumping through hoops and the apologies might possibly be the goal of the whole exercise.
That.
It sounds like she’s a woman, always changing her mind and clothes.
[ Hides breakables. ]
…first check the colour coded bracelets.
What happens if someone is colour blind?
Well, if someone goes out of their way to make interaction as complicated as possible, with rules and preconditions that can change several times a day, it generally occurs to me that there are better uses of my time.
Absolutely, but if you make things too easy, by adopting a single set of pronouns, then there is the danger that everyone, courteously, would use them correctly. This would preclude any opportunity for tantrums. If you make it difficult then someone will, at some point, get it wrong and – oh joy! – you’re a victim all over again.
The Walter Mitty analogy is an interesting one. But these people are Anti-Mitties. They don’t fantasise about a life that is more rich, exciting and heroic. Rather they yearn for one in which they are eternally abused underdogs.
See also Laurie Penny and her ongoing project of self-description.
That post made me laugh. 😀
That post made me laugh.
Laurie is often quite funny, albeit for reasons she doesn’t comprehend.
My neopronouns are so fluid that they can change mid-sentence!
My pronouns are “fap” and “durr”. They are pronounced “dwiddle” and “glimble”. That is, unless I feel like they are “4&ert” and “ma7frt//@“ (variable pronunciation but don’t get it wrong or you’ll hear from my solicitor).
The grammar rules that apply to my neopronouns are the standard rules applying to Xhosa.
Thank you for your prompt attention to my needs.
Empathy in this case means that instead of strangers and co-workers being dealt with according to custom and broadly accepted categorizations, everyone in the room is carrying on a 24-365 improvisation and you have to be on your toes…
As noted in the Laurie Penny thread, linked above,
It’s a way to be fascinating, apparently. And quite competitive.
Comet Melanie Mae is satire.
Occam’s Razor
What if my pronouns are STFU, GTFO, and FOAD?
One measure of success for a person used to be how well they assessed their audience and then adapted their message and tone to make communication effective. Yes, indeed, it took some generalization about the audience but it worked. Now when the audience insists you address each person properly according to whatever arcane standard they have adopted personally, communication is rendered useless.
This too shall pass but I doubt it will be a quiet death. At some point there will be a reckoning and it won’t be pretty. Maybe a bigger pandemic, maybe another revolution, maybe the next installment of a world war. I expect to be long dead but I feel for my children.
I truly want to see this person in mortal peril yelling, “Help zem, help zem!” and receiving no aid.
when the audience insists you address each person properly
I partially blame Steve Martin for this because of his stand up bit where he thanks each and every member of the audience individually.
There is only one pronoun the subject is interested in: Me me me me me
It sounds like she’s a woman, always changing her mind and clothes.
I’ve lost track of the number of women I know who are like that, even with regard to standards of evidence and logic in criminal trials.
I know I am repeating myself, but enough of this pronoun horsecrap. For all you made up pronoun twits:
Now get off my lawn, dickweed.
That is all, carry on.
“Well, if someone goes out of their way to make interaction as complicated as possible, with rules and preconditions that can change several times a day, it generally occurs to me that there are better uses of my time.”
This stuff is basically taking trolling into the real world.
“Now when the audience insists you address each person properly according to whatever arcane standard they have adopted personally, communication is rendered useless.”
I keep making the point that pronouns aren’t “yours” to change. That, before we even get to all the gender balderdash, is the fundamental mistake these people are making: it’s a category error. Words you prefer to be known by are called names, and addressing everyone by their own name is completely impractical. Which is why we choose pronouns to refer to others.
Trying to be a good wokeling, I’m struggling with a puzzle. Suppose that yesterday this person was wearing a pink and yellow bracelet, announcing, “You must refer to me as ‘she/they’ in conversations with third parties.” Today this person is wearing a blue bracelet, announcing, “You must refer to me as ‘he’ in conversations with third parties.”
Now the puzzle is, how do I, today, refer to this person in speaking of something this person did yesterday? Do I say, “Yesterday she/they wore a pink and yellow bracelet”, since yesterday’s person was a she/they, or do I say, “Yesterday he wore a pink and yellow bracelet”, since today’s person is a he?
Please help! I wouldn’t want to misgender, um, it.
These people must spend hours in front of a mirror every day trying to figure out how to look more f**ked up than they looked the day before. Mission accomplished this time.
Re: Penseivat “What happens if someone is colour blind?”
You might be on to something here. There is a type of colour blindness Cerebral achromatopsia wherby people can’t perceive colour even though they have no genetic basis for colour blindness. A quote from a recent paper paves the way I think : The color of a surface depends on the wavelength composition of the light entering the eye, but the relation between wavelength composition and the subjective experience of color is far from simple. If this doesn’t meet the requirements of colour fluid, I don’t know what does. Time to exploit this strategic opening.
Enough of this gradual imposition on others with all its drama that must be incrementally one-upped by the next sociopath. I’ll cut right to the chase. In order to pronounce my NAME properly, I am NEVER to be addressed by common pronouns of any kind, you are required to take out a Springfield 1911 .45 ACP and shoot yourself in the left temple. Anything less than that is disrespectful to me and will be reported to the appropriate authorities.
Do I say, “Yesterday she/they wore a pink and yellow bracelet”, since yesterday’s person was a she/they, or do I say, “Yesterday he wore a pink and yellow bracelet”, since today’s person is a he?”
Tie a Yellow Ribbon ’round the Old Oak Tree…
or something.
Enough of this gradual imposition on others…
Related and also featuring “pronouns” this is brilliantly done.
this is brilliantly done.
What show or film is that taken from?
What show or film is that taken from?
American Psycho. Which isn’t entirely inapt.
Thanks, David.
[ Slides large pink fizz along bar. ]
The Victorians knew how to deal with such exemplars of dubious rationality and tenuous sanity.
She’d have been banged up in some drafty looney bin alongside the bloke who thought he was Napoleon and the syphilitic ex. chief barrister.
I suppose TikTok is an improvement. For them of course, not the rest of us.
I suppose TikTok is an improvement.
Based on recent findings from said platform, it’s sometimes difficult to tell whether one is watching a person with quite serious mental health issues, such that one might be wary of, say, leaving children in their care, or a poseur who is merely feigning a quite serious mental health issue in order to indulge their status games and craving for attention.
And which, in itself, doesn’t exactly suggest mental wellbeing.
I was not aware of this until yesterday but apparently TikTok is taking over 10 bedroom and similar mansions charging $900/month/room for these idiots to “influence” together. The first I saw was this link on fb. But if you search YouTube for TikTok Mansions you will find similar douchey behavior. Mostly with the sarcasm and/or irony simply implied by the video’s existence.
I suppose TikTok is an improvement. For them of course, not the rest of us.
If you consider TikTok as Bedlam, and only visit when you’re in the mood to point and laugh at the loonies, it can help. Doesn’t change the fact that this batch of loonies is really just a bunch of boring, empty people trying hard to be interesting by pretending that their mode du jour is a deep and complex reflection of the infinite variety of the Universe, but we can still pretend that they’re just simple loonies.
[Sips large pink fizz, shudders, smiles weakly, thanks barkeep while looking for planter to dump the thing in.]
I truly want to see this person in mortal peril yelling, “Help zem, help zem!” and receiving no aid.
American Psycho. Which isn’t entirely inapt.
for these idiots to “influence” together”
You know, I’m a bit fascinated by the contradiction that “influencing” (play for pay) on Radio or Television is Baaaad, yet play for pay is A-OK on the FaceTwitGramSpacePage.
Instead they followed the droppings of lechers and communists…
I see Daniel’s holiday was shorter than expected.
[ Slides large pink fizz along bar. ]
On a semi-related note, Laurel Hubbard’s appearance at the Olympic Games will surely red pill the normies, as they say, particularly if she deprives a natal woman of a podium finish. This graph is eye-opening. 1984 wasn’t meant to be an instruction manual, but nor were Futurama or South Park.
Futurama
I saw that episode again recently. Still funny. In some ways, more so now than when I first saw it.
particularly if she deprives a natal woman of a podium finish
Which is further proof that I was borned too early, as I was quite good as a male basketball player, save for the fact that I topped out at around 5’11” – shortish for male players, but huge for wymxn players…
Had I played as a transwymony perxon, I coulda been a contender…
(I choose where to put the x’s, so there)
So instead of men’s and women’s sports, we will have men’s sports, divided into the best and the lesser. Those men that can’t compete with the best will claim to be women and compete among themselves, excluding women entirely from competition.
Women can’t even abandon the organized sports and compete among themselves, because men will force their way into those competitions too.
By Georgette, I think xhe’s got it!
Farnsworth, I’ll see that and raise you with the Apple Card version.
Speaking of nothing in particular, the wife and I saw “Our Man Flint” last night, a movie from 1966 that contains:
a) a global warming crisis
b) scientists behind it wanting world domination to bring about a utopia
c) the selection of the right man for the job done through AI.
I had the same feeling watching “Demolition Man” that I was watching a documentary about our present.