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Reheated (105)

May 13, 2025 141 Comments

For newcomers, some items from the archives: 

Telepathy Not A Thing, Women Hardest Hit.

Empowered feminist exhausted by hiring servants, planning holidays, brushing daughter’s hair.

It’s been said, here at least, that when someone uses the term “emotional labour” unironically, the person doing the mouthing is most likely a bit of a nightmare. Say, the kind of woman who complains about the “emotional labour” of hiring a domestic cleaner. Or the kind who bitches about her husband and his shortcomings in the pages of a national magazine, where friends and colleagues of said husband, and perhaps his own children, can read on with amusement…

The psychological intricacies of Ms Hartley’s preferences regarding bathroom cleaning do not appear to have been expressed directly to Her Loving Other, who, we’re told, “willingly complies to any task I decide to assign to him.” Perhaps he, or one of his friends, will read Harper’s Bazaar, at which point the full scale of her discontent will become apparent. Why Ms Hartley chose not to convey this issue directly is not entirely clear. Though it seems she’s been quite busy publicly cataloguing her husband’s faults – which extend from telepathic inadequacy to a failure to return gift wrap to its usual storage location.

Apocalypse Averted With Collective Juddering.

We will save the planet with jive, quickstep and Viennese waltz.

The Guardian’s leader writer, Susanna Rustin, is very much troubled by thoughts of impending catastrophe and is keen for your routine shopping – for groceries and maybe a pair of shoes – to be replaced, “painlessly,” with forms of “artistic expression and creativity.” Like dance lessons. It would, of course, be “a reordering of society.”

Because “dancing and singing could be part of the solution to the climate emergency.”

Their Happiness Hurt My Feelings.

The intersectional perils of video conferencing. With mad people.

It turns out that the reckless visibility of a wedding photo may be crushing the self-esteem out of the touchily unwed. You see, the mere sight of a photo of someone’s happy day can “crowd out the experiences of people with minoritized social identities,” albeit in ways never quite explained. Other taboos include references to “simple activities like family dance parties,” which are apparently a thing, and “gardening with a spouse.”

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.

Passionate Attachments.

From Salon, wrenching tales of “water bottle separation anxiety.”

What follows is a catalogue of unobvious woe and amateur dramatics. “Activist Manuela Barón” – whose area of activism is left fashionably unspecified – explains how her ancient, battered water bottle had become a “part of” her, and how the loss of it, at airport security, resulted in a swell of emotional activity: “I cried as I went through the scanner and ran off to my gate; I didn’t realise it would be like saying goodbye to an old friend.”

At which point, it occurs to me I may be misusing the word explain.

For those craving more, this is a pretty good place to start.

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Reading time: 2 min
Written by: David
Anthropology Policing Pronouns Or Else

Their Inner Loveliness

May 12, 2025 40 Comments

Some elaboration on a couple of items from Friday’s Ephemera – in which Antifa’s Transgender Enforcement Wing bare their sweet little souls.

The following scenes were filmed by Katie Daviscourt at a University of Washington event on safeguarding women’s sports against mentally ill men:

“It would be so beautiful to see your bodies hanging from the tree”

Trantifa/Antifa members threatened an elderly couple leaving a @Riley_Gaines_ event at the @UW campus. Police had to escort them as the militants followed. Video by @KatieDaviscourt: pic.twitter.com/ZapSmwQo8y

— Andy Ngo (@MrAndyNgo) May 7, 2025

From the same:

“I hope you die behind the wheel you stupid transphobic bitch!”
“You look too much like a trans woman to be transphobic”
*Neck slitting gesture*

Antifa members at @UW threatened a woman walking with a cane after the @Riley_Gaines_ event on women’s sports. pic.twitter.com/MvBXrXkqRf

— Andy Ngo (@MrAndyNgo) May 7, 2025

For daring to film such things, Ms Daviscourt received similar treatment.

In the comments, Min asked, not unreasonably:

Why are the police allowing these freaks to keep on harassing people?

One might think that gangs of masked misfits following elderly and disabled people to their cars, then obstructing their attempts to leave, while generally menacing them and muttering vivid threats, might constitute a breach of the peace, to say the least. Causing fear and alarm is the obvious intention.

And remember, the targets in the videos above – the unimposing, the elderly, the disabled – are chosen deliberately and with glee. Because that’s who they are, these mighty warriors of the Cluster B Tendency. Malevolence is their aphrodisiac, their euphoria. It’s how they feel important. It’s how they process the buzzing noise inside their own heads.

And then there’s the whole throwing faeces thing.

Oh, and note the “I’m not touching anyone – don’t touch me!” line from the big Antifa goon, the one enthusiastically menacing an elderly woman who struggles to walk.

We’ve been here before, of course. And we’ve seen what it means.

Update, via the comments:

EmC quotes this,

Oh, and note the “I’m not touching anyone – don’t touch me!” line from the big Antifa goon, the one enthusiastically menacing an elderly woman who struggles to walk.

And adds,

He needs touching with a baseball bat.

The threat of catastrophic injury would, I suspect, be the only language such creatures are likely to heed. It’s certainly hard to imagine them being swayed by appeals to logic, reciprocation, or basic decency. I see no evidence of a better nature to which one might appeal. I mean, once you’ve chosen to spend your afternoon menacing the elderly and disabled precisely because they’re unlikely to give you the vigorous kicking you deserve, you’re pretty much beyond any negotiation or genteel outreach project.

And should any readers have assumed the choice of targets seen above must be some one-off aberration, by all means think again:

“Don’t fucking touch me!” shrieks the masked young woman, flanked by her masked comrades for intimidation purposes, and while jabbing her finger in the face of a random man and preventing his elderly, disabled mother from crossing the road…

It must be strange to inhabit a social circle in which gratuitously harassing the elderly and disabled, and putting them in fear for their safety, is regarded as a credential and proof of righteousness. To believe that such behaviour makes you look good and will earn you in-group status.

It’s a pretty good measure of just how perverse, and morally demented, the Antifa mindset is.

T’aint politics. It’s pathology.

Previously in the happy-clappy world of Antifa and their Guardian apologists.

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Reading time: 3 min
Written by: David
Ephemera

Friday Ephemera (767)

May 9, 2025 160 Comments

A compendium of near misses. || The thrill of automation. || Taken: The Musical. || Snugger than thou. || Augmented-reality surgery. || The machine uprising, day 10. || Bigger than yours. || How to scare children. || I have a question for the ladies. || Modern slutting woes. || You want one and you know it. || A lot can happen in two weeks. || The airport passenger you’ve always wanted. || A trip to the shops. || He has an all-pink apartment. || The progressive retail experience, parts 628 and 629. || “Don’t expect passing to get rid of your dysphoria.” Related. || You’re threatened by her creativity. || Rather overshadowing the task at hand. || A situation had arisen. || Trans wing of Antifa showing their inner loveliness. || The fangs are the icing on the nightmare cake. || An unorthodox fight scene.

To enable extra commenting options – including @username mentions, upvotes, and live notifications – scroll down to the black ‘Meta’ box at the very bottom of the page and click register. It’s free and quite painless.

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Written by: David
Classic Sentences Free-For-All

And Everything Shall Be Made, Badly, Out Of Wool And Bamboo

May 8, 2025 52 Comments

I paraphrase, of course:

In his 2017 book Prosperity Without Growth, Tim Jackson, an ecological economist at the University of Surrey, called on advanced countries to shift their economies towards local services, such as nursing and teaching, and the development of more rewarding and less resource intensive professions like handicrafts.

I’ll give you a moment to process that one.

“People can flourish without endlessly accumulating more stuff,” Jackson wrote. “Another world is possible.” Yet proposals to abandon economic growth have also been met with scepticism.

Why, yes, I am reading the Guardian. Why do you ask?

Via Mr Worstall.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

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Written by: David
Politics The Thrill Of Endless Noise

Aversions

May 6, 2025 99 Comments

A thread of possible interest:

This is followed by a non-trivial observation:

On this latter point, should an example prove helpful, readers may wish to revisit the unconvincing contrivance of Guardian columnist Zoe Williams – specifically, her scolding of those who’d prefer not to have sociopathic neighbours – say, the kinds of creatures who blast out loud music in the small hours, and who, for entertainment, hurl pets from upstairs windows.

An aversion Ms Williams denounced as a “demonisation of the poor,” a project of “extinction,” in which those who’d rather not have their ornaments rattled by another all-night next-door rave, are “trying to shunt people out of society for not being rich enough.”

According to Zoe, those who’d prefer not to be assailed by thunderous basslines at 4am, or to have their evenings enlivened by small, terrified animals falling from the sky, are merely being cruel, “dehumanising,” and needlessly judgemental. For Zoe, the problem with ‘problem families’ is simply that they’re poor, and nothing whatsoever to do with how they choose to abuse their equally poor neighbours.

In the world of our Guardian columnist, we – by which she means you – should be “unstigmatising,” which is to say, non-judgemental. Passive and accepting, on an indefinite basis. A process via which empathy, or feigned empathy, is shifted from the working-class victim of crime and antisocial behaviour to the working-class perpetrator of crime and antisocial behaviour, on grounds that the thug or criminal is in some way being oppressed and, unlike their neighbours, being made to misbehave.

Needless to say, this prompted some lengthy speculation as to how Ms Williams might react, should she wake one morning to find a family of violent morons moving in next door to her:

Presumably Ms Williams’ own neighbours have little in common with, say, the delightful Stuart Murgatroyd, a father of twelve who has never worked and boasts an extensive criminal record, not least for robbing the elderly in graveyards, and whose attempt to challenge an Anti Social Behaviour Order was cut short at the very last minute due to him being arrested for assaulting the mother of his children, herself a convicted getaway driver, on the steps of the courthouse.

And,

Imagine, if you will, a reality TV show of perhaps a dozen episodes, in which, having been banished from their current council-house digs, the Murgatroyds move in next door to our Guardian columnist and champion of the downtrodden – albeit, until now, from a safe distance. Would we be treated to heart-warming chats across the garden fence, and exchanged cups of sugar, while the families’ respective children – Zoe’s are named Thurston and Harper – have jolly times together?

As a real-world test of Zoe’s scrupulously progressive worldview, her professed concern for the common man, it would, I think, make for instructive viewing.

Update, via the comments:

Connor adds,

It’s always hypocrisy. None of it is real.

Well, the idea that Zoe, who lives far removed from rough council estates, would herself behave in the same way she demands that others do is quite laughable. It’s so transparently unconvincing, so absurd, that you have to wonder how these obvious dishonesties can go unchallenged in her world. Unless, of course, everyone in her world is pretending much the same things.

As I said here, with suitably vivid examples:

Guardian columnists, and progressives in general, don’t seem particularly interested in the functional working class. Their greatest enthusiasm, and their most ambitious contrivance, seems reserved for the feckless and dysfunctional, the pathologically selfish, the incorrigibly criminal. That’s when we get displays of what amounts to a perverse art form.

Part of the reason, I suspect, is that there’s little in-group status to be had in pretending to care about functional people of modest means. Instead, they pretend to care about more exotic demographics. And so, among progressives, we get pretentious compassion for unrepentant and habitual thieves, habitual burglars, habitually criminal drivers. Oh, and dog thieves and armed muggers, obviously.

It seems to me this is the level it typically works on. So, again, pretending.

And let’s not forget Peter Matthews, an Urban Studies lecturer ostensibly offended by “urban inequalities,” and who wants to ensure that more of us live next door to “the poor and marginalised.” Writing in the Guardian, Dr Matthews agonised over litter inequality and the fact that rougher neighbourhoods tend to be strewn with wrappers, cans, and food-smeared detritus. And so, we had lots of fretting about inequalities in litter density, while the question of how the litter gets there remained, rather oddly, of zero interest. With the words drop and littering pointedly not appearing.

Presumably for fear that these practical details might have inegalitarian implications.

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Written by: David
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In which we marvel at the mental contortions of our self-imagined betters.