Reheated (84)
Because you deserve no less, some items from the archives:
Their Happiness Hurt My Feelings.
When your Zoom-meeting décor is deemed oppressive.
Curiously, given the stated importance of “sensitivity” and being mindful of what things might mean, we aren’t invited to ponder the kind of person who would resent someone else’s wedding photo. And then complain about it. Or whether such neurotic affectations, these unhappy mental habits, are something to be actively encouraged. In the name of progress. At a university.
Let’s visit the pages of Salon, where the delusional hyperventilate.
Readers are invited to take a moment to reflect on Mr Trump’s famously warm and not at all fractious relationship with the mainstream media, which never, ever calls him names. Like “proto-fascist,” for instance. Or when MSNBC’s Niccole Wallace breathlessly announced that the President was genocidal and, for reasons left to the imagination, clearly bent on “exterminating Latinos.” Or when the same broadcaster’s Frank Figliuzzi suggested that Trump’s lowering of flags following a shooting tragedy was actually a coded salute to Adolf Hitler.
Apparently, these things never happened, are not in fact bizarrely routine, and the pundits at CNN, MSNBC, the New York Times, NBC, Salon, etc., are just too terrified and deferential to admit, as Dr Ben-Ghiat puts it, that “they are living in the middle of a fascist, authoritarian takeover.”
But Why Aren’t People Rushing To Buy My Art?
Deep thoughts, shifting paradigms, and heads wrapped in meat.
The guide notes, rather earnestly, that the first attempt, by Mr Carvalho – to envelop his head in bread, string, and assorted meat products – prompted more amusement from the tiny audience than the subsequent repetition of it by Ms Cochrane. This is presented as an invitation to “a fundamental shift in paradigm” and some allegedly profound insight into gender politics. Or, how “different actions are read on different bodies.” Our artistic deep thinkers are seemingly unaware of the concepts of novelty and diminishing returns.
Other feats of head-wrapping are also available.
Er, what?
Actual mad people.
And these things are said out loud, proudly, competitively, by supposedly clever people, as if they weren’t glaringly contrived or neurotic.
Apparently, the super-woke ideal, the kind of person around whom the world should revolve, is someone so petty and embittered that a mere glimpse of someone’s wedding photo, seen in the background during a Zoom meeting, will induce agitation, distress, and an urge to punish. Which is to say, a spiteful, hypersensitive wanker.
Sometimes, the psychology in play is quite telling, and hard to miss.
For those who missed it, and not entirely unrelated:
Teacher of small children is annoyed by norms.
Bring your whole self to work. Wait! Not that self!
The crazy people now have encouragement and support networks.
I’ll just leave this here.
The kind of person who would object to such details – the supposed victim of our insensitivity – would be either calculating and malevolent, or unhinged beyond help, probably both.
Have you, or has anyone you know, been the victim of an insensitive buffet?
Apropos of nothing, robot scientists are at it again.
Help us Ted Kazinsky. You’re our only hope.
I’m just going to leave this here. Because I can.
The mental image of a “family dance party” is, for me, vaguely surreal.
By the way, since the update to Hades’ Star turned the game to utter shit, I’m currently looking for a new game to replace it. I downloaded Infinite Lagrange, but that looks too complicated and time-intensive for the kind of casual play I have in mind.
Suggestions welcome.
The mainstream media can’t die soon enough.
John D, I initially read that as “…to Alfred Hitchcock.” and was even more confused than usual.
Wait. I know what’s happening. The idiotic Autocorrect on my tablet has somehow infected my brain.
Publican! Another, if you please. (And all y’all can just shut up about it being 0800 in my time zone. Right?)
Heh. It’s Salon, so anything is possible. I’m assuming you remember this odyssey into the erotic:
That’s the thing about so much progressive posturing. It’s not just reliably wrong. (In the above, see the section on cuckoldry.) It’s very often deeply weird.
Lately I’ve been having doubts on my ability to discern between ‘lose’ and ‘loose’.
The supposition is insupportable on the face of it.
, been the victim of an insensitive buffet?
Sometimes a cigar is just a burrito, or some such.
The mental image of a “family dance party” is, for me, vaguely surreal.
Isn’t that what killed the Wii?
I’m now trying to picture Beloved Sister-In-Law #1 putting down her large and well-filled glass of wine long enough to cut a rug.
… long enough to cut a rug.
Cue the Chicken Dance to be followed immediately by the Macarena.
Make it stop.
This sure beats student housing.
This sure beats student housing.
It is all fun and games till the NVA regiment comes popping out…
It is all fun and games till the NVA regiment comes popping out…
Yikes! You’re right. Here I thought she had solved the housing shortage problem, when it was a damned commie plot all along.
Too many heads, not enough torches.
Perhaps someone should introduce one of those ‘ammosexuals’ to the Chinese roboticists.
A girl does not quite grasp how life has worked since the dawn of time.
Yeah. I’m guessing that young thing didn’t do all that digging by herself. Especially with just a stick. Especially within the time of a day (same clothes) without getting seriously dirty.
There seems to be a thing with the southeast Asian populace for digging rooms and fish ponds and even swimming pools out of the local muck using just sticks and leaves. Strange. But at least they can tell their boys from their girls. Mostly.
Meanwhile in the UK, a charity is grateful to have Steph as new CEO.
What if one of the two parties has a penis but it’s, like in a jar or something? Hey, it’s a legitimate question for the 21st century.
I have a baculum on a bookshelf. Does that count?
I think we’ll give that one a post of its own. Comments that-a-way.
I don’t think that will pass muster. I suppose the point is that you tried.