Reheated (104)
For newcomers, some items from the archives:
Perhaps The Cardboard Has Magical Properties.
It’s a San Francisco vibe, so doing the obvious is out of the question.
By issuing little cards, they’re creating “new social norms.” To supposedly address the problem of having created other “new social norms” in which punishing criminals is deemed unjust, racist, and terribly old-fashioned.
But hey, if you’re travelling to work on a BART train and some deranged creep starts masturbating against your leg, or pissing on the floor, or you find yourself standing next to yet another knife fight, or overdose, or commuter mugging – and no-one else does anything, or dares to do anything, except watch impotently and demoralised – because even noticing such things is racist – at least you’ll have a little card to clutch. Apparently that’s something.
The thrills of modern gym membership.
You see, in the progressive pecking order, the fantasies of sexually dysmorphic men – and the preferences of male sex offenders – are of much greater importance than any “discomfort” felt by the women and girls on whom the former groups choose to impose themselves. Women and girls whose role, it seems, is merely to understand and tacitly affirm. To be reluctant accessories to some strange man’s psychodrama, while remaining free of judgement. Which is frowned upon.
Because the modern, not-at-all-insane response to repeated acts of indecency and sexual intimidation – by a predatory man in the women’s changing rooms – is to ask him not to keep waving his erection at women and children. On grounds that what he’s waving could somehow be a lady’s penis. Such is the sophistication of our times.
On fabulist “identities,” and malice with impunity.
The risk of being punched, vigorously, is important. It inhibits quite a lot of recreational malice.
It’s Trivial When The Victim Is Someone Who Isn’t Me.
Canadian socialist podcaster solves problem of all crime, everywhere.
Perhaps it would be ungentlemanly to wish on dear Nora some first-hand experience of the crimes she so merrily diminishes when inflicted on someone else, someone who isn’t her. Though it is, I think, tempting.
Behold ye this snapshot of progressive innovation.
For those craving more, The Year Reheated is a pretty good place to start.
With progressives it’s always about pretending.
There does seem to be an awful lot of make-believe.
Fair’s fair.
Seeing as how many here are scifi fans, I bring you news of a new show sure to delight.
A small sample here. Be sure to tune in! It has boffo reviews and won a Teddy!
Well, if you could manage to shove it down the assailant’s throat you could cause a fortuitous “I can’t breathe” condition.
Socialism, we are told, is all about “sharing” and “equitable distribution”.
It is thus essential that Nora receive an equitable share of all the crime.
Education is one of the things that “must” be socialized. And what could be more educating that to be robbed, beaten, terrorized, stripped of one’s property, and wind up in a hospital’s trauma unit?
Canadian socialist, it seems.
Is it even possible to win a Teddy without being “transgressive” and vile?
It looks suspiciously like “queer women of colour” is the narrative. The sole reason for its existence. And, I dare say, the sole reason for any mannered applause.
Safer to live where people don’t vote for this far-left crap.
How about encouraging such people to move elsewhere?
Not just the voters:
car theft: perhaps obvious but some victims get shot just for shits and giggles. also cars stolen with child inside.
it is interesting that the same demographic (single lib women) who demanded safe spaces now protect man who violate those spaces. consistency not a strong trait
From the magic cardboard post:
And passenger safety, along with any residual expectations of civilised behaviour, is such a small price to pay.
The word ‘coercive’ seems to fit in there.
‘Australian acting royalty’
That seems a bit redundant these days.
Science, answering the hitherto unknown.
As the sun rose and I pondered what the day would bring, that wasn’t on my list.
Maybe it’s Maybelline…
Didn’t work in Regina (the city that rhymes with fun).
Two delightful demographics meet: Violent urban blacks and immigrants food vendors who don’t give a damn about such basic rules as keeping the hot food hot and the cold food cold.
One more time:
Other forms of corrective physicality are of course available.
Old Chicago joke about rhyming street names: Melvina, Paulina, and Lunt.
I’ll let myself out now before David can ignite my coat.
🔥🔥🔥
Sadly, this is Canada and the slogan was part of an official tourist board campaign.
[ Returns with fireproof coat and anti-hamster-urine face shield. ]
Perhaps if we lock them in a room together to sort things out . . .
Not sure if ‘sadly’ is the word.
I AM FULL OF STRAWBERRIES, BLACKBERRIES, YOGHURT AND CREAM.
[ Opens window, listens to church bells, birdsong. ]
I marvel at this attitude about “well, you got insurance to cover it, what’s the big deal?” from the portside loons who lose their composure if they see a red baseball hat.
There is both intangible and intangible losses even if insurance “covers it.” No, if the car that was stolen was a ten y/o Hyundai Elantra, you’re NOT getting a brand new Toyota 4-runner. And while waiting for the insurance company to process your loss (you’ve already spent time jumping through hoops to get the proper documentation to them) you’re having to rent a car (more paperwork) probably on your own dime.
I said over and over again last January after Pacific Palisades burned to the ground, that it would take months or years (if at all) the victims would get their homes rebuilt.
Here we are, 3 months past the fire and out of about 7,000 homes destroyed, only a handful of permits have been pulled.
But inSUrAnCe! they cried!
Smallish Bees’ comment comes to mind.
As the sun rose and I pondered what the day would bring, that wasn’t on my list.
Nor mine, but you have to admit, that when compared to The Science™! and Indigenous Ways of Knowings™ that have been featured within these very pages, at least this is information that is useful. For example, a Norwegian Forest Cat parks on your favorite pillow, you won’t have to hie off to the cleaners to get the remains of the last visit to the litter box off.
Sadly, this is Canada and the slogan was part of an official tourist board campaign.
Adjusting for the time delay to cross the prairies, it’s evidently a year that’s after the sexual revolution of the last century, which prioritized sexual candor, taboo-breaking, epater-ing les bourgeois; but a year that’s before the historical revision that wondered if all that candor and taboo-breaking was just an excuse for the men of that time to treat women more callously than their fathers ever would.
The poor chump who’s being blamed for approving all this smut unfortunately even looks like a central casting town booster who thought he was being rather naughty and rakish, but in a way that would get him approval.
Their crisis management PR should have been that it was a miscategorized release of LGBT Month material intended to create an inclusive and inviting environment where all kinds of Reginas would be on show proudly and without stigma.
Leftists are enemies of civilization–and should be treated as such.
It’s not the city’s first experience with bad tourism promotions. This parody video, Experience Regina, came out in 2008 at a time when it was even more difficult to recognize parody. Make sure to watch the embedded video in the link. It’s hilarious.
The video struck a nerve at the time with Regina’s citizens who suffer an inferiority complex compared to the City of Saskatoon, known as the “Paris of the Prairies.”
The most ridiculous phrase in the Glorious Now! has to be ‘her penis’.
Angry, aggresively willful, ignorance.
Tomato tomahto.,
Burglary tourism groups with hidden cameras wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card. But here we are.
Form a line gents.
Only to make her the target of a Pythonesque fish-slapping dance.
“They by necessity focus on only the superficial, the downstream outcomes, because every single one of them is written by somebody with politics that prevent them from telling the truth about their causes.”
—Wanye Burkett, again.
See make-believe above.
Interesting euphemism for a cat’s anus.
7/10 would use
Is this… real?
Le vomi de chat sur un lit de boules de poils sur haricot du Heinz.
Though it might sound better in French there is probably some English name like Rumpy Voles and Clangers the traditional Sunday meal after a rousing game of Jigger-ma-hoop.
Sometimes the old ways are the best.
Well, it’s hard to see this supposedly progressive approach as entailing any actual, you know, progress. It looks more like evasion, cowardice and decline. And so, rather than enforcing laws and arresting the numerous muggers, gropers and public masturbators, passengers are to be left clutching a little card while hoping for the best. And while desperately trying to avoid seeming in any way racist.
And again, this alleged feat of progress, in which the criminal is emboldened, and in which passengers are required to sacrifice any residual expectations of civilised behaviour, does not strike me as an obvious improvement.
Note the word courage.