As I expect to be busy over the next few days, some items from the archives.

Something About The Tone.   

Urban Studies lecturer bemoans litter inequality, suggests bulldozing homes nicer than his own.

Our postcode class warrior also thinks that “deprived” and “marginalised” communities can be elevated, made less dysfunctional, by “the provision of services… such as… street cleaners.” Meaning more street cleaners, cleaning more frequently. He links to a report fretting about how to “narrow the gap” in litter, how to, “achieve fairer outcomes in street cleanliness.” But neither he nor the authors of said report explore an obvious factor. The words “drop” and “littering” simply don’t appear anywhere in the report, thereby suggesting that the food-smeared detritus and other unsightly objects just fall from the clouds mysteriously when the locals are asleep.

The report that Mr Matthews cites, supposedly as evidence of unfairness, actually states that council cleaning resources are “skewed towards deprived neighbourhoods” – with councils spending up to five times more on those areas than they spend on cleaning more respectable neighbourhoods. And yet even this is insufficient to overcome the locals’ antisocial behaviour. A regular visit by a council cleaning team, even one equipped with military hardware, won’t compensate for a dysfunctional attitude towards littering among both children and their parents. And fretting about inequalities in litter density is a little odd if you don’t consider how the litter gets there in the first place. 

The Dunning-Kruger Diaries, Part Two. 

Behold the creative outpourings of Ms Angeliki Chiado Tsoli.

The price of happiness. || Postmodern Pong. || Paragliding DJ. || The ideal male body. || Logo of note. || Have you licked your eyes today? || Clearly, his are way stretchier than yours. || The thrill of waxing (or, One Man’s Woes). || Nook-dweller detected. || When autogynephile men get off in ladies’ bathrooms. (Not, needless to say, suitable for work). || And nobody helps. || I’m not entirely sure what’s happening here. || Posh pad. Hit ‘walkthrough’ and turn left. (h/t, Julia) || The joys of public transport, part 4,868. || “It’s time to talk about my pronouns.” Because she’s just so damn fascinating. || The progressive retail experience, parts 440, 441, 442, and 443. || Only recruiting the cream. (h/t, pst314) || A cat’s conscience is at best intermittent. || First contact. || And finally, how Marvel shat the bed – one woman’s point of view. 

Also, I now have a Twitter account.

Maybe the racially neurotic should not be teaching children.

Say, the kinds of people who insist that maintaining discipline in class and ejecting those who seriously misbehave – thereby enabling the rest of the class to have some chance of learning something – is merely “upholding white supremacy,” and so, by implication, very, very bad. The kinds of people who, when their own words are quoted verbatim and they consequently encounter pushback, seemingly for the first time, complain about the stress of being disagreed with.

As we’ve seen many times, when said neuroticism is made modish, statusful, and an institutional obligation, the practical results are not entirely inspiring. With six experiments in racial immunity from discipline, in six different cities, resulting in six surges in violent classroom assaults, up to and including actual riots. And with apologists for the policies doubling-down and subsequently claiming that “African-American boys” are more “physical” and “demonstrative,” and so punching teachers in the face, and groping them, and setting other students’ hair on fire, is how those students “engage in learning.”

And when educators have practised such dishonesties and have learned to perform the required mental contortions, the results can be quite eye-widening. We might, for instance, turn to Dr Albert Stabler, an assistant professor at Appalachian State University, whose thoughts are much aligned with those of our TikTok teacher linked above.

Or, Things That Will Not Be Tolerated On Twitter.  

The thing in question this time is a cartoon, an illustration of an idea. It was shared, briefly, yesterday by biologist and Quillette contributor Colin Wright, and was promptly censored by Twitter’s moderators. Mr Wright has apparently been suspended from said platform until a confession of hateful wrongdoing – as yet unspecified hateful wrongdoing – has been extracted. Given the cartoon’s scandalous properties, I’ll reproduce it below the fold. Do feel free to grip the arms of your chair.

A good nose. || Dinner and a show. || The spread of dumplings. || He does this better than you do. || And she does this better than you do. || Meme density. || Discussing TV. || Temporal anomaly detected. (h/t, Tim) || Speaking, as we were, of Scientific American. || A point is made. || What CPR does. || Paedophile Pride, you say. || And of course we mustn’t forget the terribly put-upon animal-shaggers. || Incoming. (h/t, Perry) || Inevitable, I suppose. || The thrill of houseplants. || Hiring decision of note. || “Gender–affirming surgery,” you say? || In our brave, progressive tomorrow, white devils will be laid off first. || Not commissioned, just a fan. || From charcoal and water. || And finally, for adventurous motorists, another what-if scenario. 

Also, I now have a Twitter account.