At Carleton University’s School of Journalism and Communication, a panel of journalists and media professionals declare their priorities. 

The full two-and-a-half-hour video, which begins with a land acknowledgement and rumblings about “settlers” and their “racial guilt,” and “white supremacist colonial mindsets which we have internalised both collectively and individually,” can be endured here. 

Following this lengthy declaration of innate racial wrongness, the panellists begin to ruminate on “how best to confront the corrosive force of online hate targeted at journalists.” Being a journalist on Twitter, where the public can talk back, sometimes bluntly, is equated with surviving in an active warzone and other “hostile physical environments,” with women, the majority of the panel, apparently hardest hit. Journalists, we’re told, are “exposed to danger in the digital world” and consequently suffer high rates of “anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic distress.” As a result of being mocked or disagreed with on Twitter. “We don’t want our journalists to be killed,” says Catherine Tait, the president and CEO of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.

Pianist of note. || How bats pee. || Cocaine Bear, a film. || Build quality. || “Anality and Listening.” Is your anus “mystical and obscured,” or is it “(self) structuring at the more ontological level”? || All things considered, it’s not that bad. || 25 years ago, “4,756,940 pieces of Lego” were lost at sea. (h/t, Things) || When you hire dysmorphic men to be police officers, a thread. || Previously. || “Ask for explicit permission,” she says. Just imagine being that cow. || “Where did wokeness come from?” A podcast. || The progressive retail experience, parts 447, 448, and 449. || Whale heart. || Forbidden love. || A.I. generates a 1987 Radio Shack catalogue. || Incoming. || Seventeenth-century castle for sale. With its own island, obviously. || And finally, with family, she used a dog-clicker.

Update, via Dr Westerhaus: “The flowers are dying.“

Janice Fiamengo pokes through the outpourings of Sophie Lewis: 

Ms Lewis and her fever dreams have of course been mentioned here before: 

With the season of jollity and gift-giving bearing down upon us, like the giant boulder in Raiders of the Lost Ark, patrons are reminded that any Amazon UK shopping done via this link, or for Amazon US via this link, or via the buttons in the sidebar, results in a small fee for your host at no extra cost to you. 

By all means shop wildly and in bulk.

I’m just going to leave this here, I think: 

Other questions generated by means of Queer Theorising include, “Do I think I’m having sex with my dogs when they kiss my face?” Apparently, for Dr Rudy, a Professor of Women’s Studies, being licked by a dog is difficult to distinguish from kissing grandma on the cheek or being lost in a full-on erotic fever. And thus, we’re told, “The line between ‘animal lover’ and zoophile is not only thin, it is non-existent.” 

Previously in the land of Queer Theory. 

And of course this rather eye-widening example.

Also, open thread.