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.
To attempt to answer, I do think, that like any disease or contagion, transgenderism will burn itself out and I believe we have already passed ‘peak trans’… (My son and his mates laugh at transvestite men and take pictures of them which they share with each other on WhatsApp. And no, I’m not going to stop him. He knows a lie when he sees one tottering towards him in a dress and fake tits).
A compendium of such perversity can be found here:
I suspect I’m not alone in finding these creatures… morally revolting.
They equate “harmless” with “moral”.
I go farther and refuse to regard them as fellow Americans.
Tamara Lich has entered the chat.
“The government is thoroughly corrupt and out of control and we should give them carte blanche to incarcerate and execute people” isn’t a good look.
Daniel Penny would like a word.
Band name or first album?
“alpha male”
I’d have gone with chunky lesbian cliché. But hey, we live in an age of wonders.
Band name.
Jordan Peterson points out that being a man means being a little dangerous. If you are a helpless wimp, unable to defend your family and yourself, you are not a “good” person, just a weak person.
Illinois gov pritzker in a speech in Maine jumped on the Trump is Hitler bandwagon. Because winning a fair election is JUST LIKE the takeover of Germany by Hitler after he murdered 7000 of the opposition. So now we have Dems freaking out about the judge arrested for helping an illegal criminal escape ICE and urging more judges to do this. They are actively promoting crime. What a good look (not).
For the hardcore left, harmlessness and helplessness are just another set of tactics for destroying social cohesion.
Well, practised impotence doesn’t exactly scream heroic manliness. Or even self-respect. One incident I recall from a couple of decades ago, and which still elicits a twinge of regret, involved my not doing anything when, with help, I could have:
As I said, a twinge of regret.