Friday Ephemera (727)
She must’ve been able to see the beginning of space and time. || The smooth jazz noodling is the icing on the cake. || Incoming. || Suboptimal situation. || New “fatphobic” thing detected. || I believe the preferred term is selling ass. || The thrill of German syntax. || Good news, bad news. || Hiding underground. || A lot can happen in 28 seconds. || She hopes this clarifies things. || Demon cat. || Mr Achacoso is a psychiatric nurse. || Walk towards the light. || Those rope-burn woes. || “The woman is just one of 140 people being investigated for making ‘harmful comments’ towards the rapists.” || Armpit charms. || On the pitfalls of pitch correction software. || Policing at its finest. || Some punching required. || Chesterton’s cone. || And finally, well, um, I’m just going to leave this here.
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“The content of their character” condemns them.
It does rather suggest that it’s time to move house.
It occurs to me that in, shall we say, simpler times, the parents of such children could, on occasion, have been summoned to at least squeeze grudging apologies out of their misbehaving offspring. Whereas now, the suspicion would be that the parents – or rather, the parent – would be every bit as feral, only bigger and more aggressive.
In an earlier, better, time the parents of such children would have been instructed to move.
Moving away from such verminous beings – assuming one has the means – does seem to be the practical option, at least for those on the receiving end. But retreating from the feral doesn’t seem… morally adequate. If anyone should be obliged to move, to find somewhere else to live, the ferals themselves should be the ones in retreat.
We could even build homes for them, adapted to suit their interests.
Trump ad of note.
Ouch.
…it is fairly evident from that clip where that couple’s priorities are…
See the difference?
What they said, the husband with his head buried in a tablet or phone doesn’t see her millisecond glance to her right, hears his wife blurt out and looks to his left to see her start to scoop up the dog, so rather than react to her distress he is supposed to look in another direction than where the problem seems to be because she is unable to communicate a threat?
Rather like being told to check the rear view mirror to avoid a head on crash.
Marketing genius: make toy trains pink to get girls interested.
(Via Gary Gygax and the early history of Dungeons and Dragons.)
I have action-figure needs?
Indeed.
On the other hand, prior campaigns’ debates took place in September and October, not June. This suggests that some Democrats wanted to get the train wreck out of the way so they could move forward with a replacement candidate.
Sad ending, probably because it didn’t have a smiling face made of human skin needed for its affirmation.
Won’t someone think of our transhuman overlords?
I have questions.
I’m assuming it means the clothes are removable.
No, wait. That’s not helping, is it?
I believe there is a smaller, cheaper, less detailed version with clothing as part of the moulded plastic figure. Thus, the removable clothing denotes luxury and indulgence.
No, wait.
Canterbury? Seems more like a Portland thing.
Enumclaw.
That was my first thought Some people (men and women) do have that problem.
[ Hears cracking sound. Uses neck the way God intended. Ahh, the pussy whip ]
Cat lady couture.
Not until she says “Look, he’s right there” does he use his neck the way God intended and pivot it around to where she’s looking.
I don’t know why she didn’t blurt out “BEAR,” but she might have been tongue-tied in her panic,
Oooh, the plausible deniability game. I’ll play. Maybe he, like my uncle Stan, has had the discs fused in his upper back and is incapable of using his neck in the way God intended. To add insult to injury, she may well have misgendered the bear.
How soon we forget its glorious dawn (note the number of views).
I see the memes are underway.
Ahh, the pussy whip
Sooner or later, everyone comes around to patriarchy.
It’s for posture. Not like anyone buys books anymore.
I see the memes are underway.
The Aussies have fun watching.
Huh? I have in fact known men who, under stress, can become quite inarticulate. (But then, I have also known some others who were pretty much always so.)
One for the ladies. Politeness or gaslighting?
On a field trip going down a narrow road in a flatbed truck with benches on each side, I saw a big palm frond coming up. I yelled “duck” and put my hand on the shoulder of the guy next to me, who ducked. But our wildlife biologist lifted his head up to see the duck and was almost knocked off the truck. ahhahah.
The wheels are falling off, and I’m trying to understand why the Dems are surprised at what happened.
When you have a media/academia monopoly, unfavorable facts = notions to be dispelled. And framing it as an abstract concern about the man’s age rather than with the his visible senility.
The thrill of German syntax.
“The woman is just one of 140 people being investigated for making ‘harmful comments’ towards the rapists.”
It’s almost as if the philosophies of anti-Hate and anti-racism were designed to propagandize the compliance and submission of a conquered people towards a conquering army.
Breaking: J K Rowling refuses to budge for demonic exorcism:
Update:
But Jordan Peterson described the rhetoric of these bullying, fake-victim, “woke” fanatics as “the chattering buzz of ideologically possessed demons”.
From Ace regarding the (apparently successful…maybe) Tractor Supply Company boycott:
https://ace.mu.nu/archives/410311.php
Trust . . . but verify.
Just contra that article, English is not descended from German, though the two are clearly closely related. Technically they’re both descended from the common proto Germanic tongue.
“Dear Americans, my European mind has started to comprehend.”
One for the ladies. Politeness or gaslighting?
Good question asked in that post. How the hell is that honking giant bloke in a frock “unsafe” when the smaller female beats feet out of the small box they are about to be stuck in together for a bit? Dude, just because you’ve popped some pills, put on some lippie and eyeliner, and donned a dress doesn’t change the fact that you look like you could snap the neck of the average female without even trying hard.
Dude isn’t made “unsafe” by that woman’s actions. He got his feelings hurt is all. Waahh. Happens to all of us. Most of the world’s humans have no expectation that everyone else on the planet is put there to make them feel good about themselves.
It increases the odds that he’s a creep, because he’s attempting deception from the off, and those AGPs are vicious pieces of work. “Unsafe” my left elbow.
Don’t use my desire to live and let live against me.
It seems to me the problem is that a lone woman in a lift, or in any space where help may not be immediate, has no practical way of differentiating a dysmorphic or autogynephile man who may pose no heightened danger from one who does.
I’m sure there are dysmorphic men who wish to live as women, who don’t regard themselves as any particular danger, to anyone, and who would very much prefer to go about their business with a minimum of fuss.
But, taken statistically, as a group, dysmorphic and autogynephile men are very likely to have other psychological issues, including serious and dangerous personality disorders, are more likely to be sex offenders, about five times more likely, and much more prone to paedophilic inclinations. And to therefore pose a heightened risk to both women and children.
As a society, we used to understand this, albeit in ways not always well defined. But now we must pretend otherwise. And women, it seems, must pretend most of all.
And speaking of Glastonbury.
Truly, we live in an age of wonders.
I’ll just leave this here.
Feel-good crime drama.
Provocation can cause that desire to decline or vanish.
Those who make demands upon us are announcing that they are indeed dangerous and should be treated accordingly.
Well, slightly good: You know he won’t spend nearly as long in prison as he should. To make me feel truly good, show me a violent criminal getting shot.
I’m generally a fan of politeness, and I’ve no urge to be gratuitously mean to the dysmorphic. But to pretend, as the series of adverts does, that there are no conflicting concerns, no basis for caution or demurral, is just that – a pretence.
And telling people that they are obliged to pretend – to become unrealistic – doesn’t strike me as particularly well-meaning.
But half the fun is collecting the memes yourself.
Mugging victim beats mugger to death with wooden leg: “It was not my intention to do anything more than frighten him off, but unhappily for us all he died.”
Not sure the expiring of a mugger counts as an unhappy event.
Such a potch on the tukis the’ll give him, the goniff!
Which is more and better suited than what NYPD would do . . .
I am happy to be able to have the time this morning to catch up with the Ephemera and the banquet of comments. Yesterday had me leaving the house early to get to my job site for the day, which was this place, Charlie’s Bunion.