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Basking

Like Encouragement And Gratitude, But Spendable

August 4, 2025 190 Comments

Yes, it’s time to remind patrons that where you are right now is made possible by the kindness of strangers. If you’d like to ensure this place exists a while longer, and remains ad-free, there are three buttons below the fold with which to monetise any love. Debit and credit cards are accepted. If what happens here is of value, this is a chance to show it.

If one-click haste is called for, there’s a QR code in the sidebar, at which you point your phone camera, and my PayPal.Me page can be found here. As requested, there are SubscribeStar and Ko-Fi accounts, via which love may also be monetised, whether as one-off donations or monthly subscriptions. Should you be gripped by an urge to express encouragement via currency, by all means succumb.

Additionally, any Amazon UK shopping done via this link, or via the button in the sidebar, results in a small fee for your host at no extra cost to you.

It’s what keeps this place here.

For newcomers wishing to know more about what’s been going on here for the last eighteen years, in over 3,000 posts and 200,000 comments, the Reheated series is a pretty good place to start – in particular, the end-of-year summaries, which convey the fullest flavour of what it is we do. A sort of blog concentrate. If you like what you find there… well, there’s lots more of that.

Do take a moment to poke through the discussion threads too. The posts are intended as starting points, not full stops, and the comments are where much of the good stuff is waiting to be found. And do please join in.

As always, thanks for the support, the comments, and the company.

Oh, and consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

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Reading time: 1 min
Written by: David
Those Poor Darling Burglars Those Poor Darling Shoplifters

Infinite Forgiveness

August 3, 2025 43 Comments

Lifted from the comments, some thoughts on empathy – or more specifically, ostentatious pseudo-empathy, as practised by so many of Our Progressive Betters. It began with a discussion of this lady here, a triumphant, practised shoplifter, and other, likeminded beings whose proximity might not be desired:

Woman who filmed herself shoplifting from a store and paying only for two small items received over 23,000 likes and more than 1,000 comments cheering her on.

So when chain stores start shutting down and activists cry “racism,” just show them this video. pic.twitter.com/MknZYQyeQI

— I Meme Therefore I Am 🇺🇸 (@ImMeme0) July 5, 2025

And Chow Bag’s subsequent comment,

New hatred unlocked.

The words vile beast did spring to mind. And if you wanted to radically lower your estimation of the human species, she’d be the gal to call. Likewise, I would guess, much of her social media audience, the ones applauding her habits, her predation, and clicking like.

As Wanye Burkett has often illustrated, despising such creatures, wishing them gone and bricked up in a dungeon, is not a result of some failure of empathy, as many progressives would have us believe, but of precisely the opposite. One can understand their feelings, their assumptions, their monstrously selfish worldview, and find it all degenerate, worthy only of disgust. In fact, the more you try to imagine yourself in a similar situation and how you might behave, the more alien and repugnant their behaviour is likely to seem.

Or as Mr Burkett puts it,

If all empathy is supposed to mean is that you just assume everybody has the exact motivations that you do, then the concept is useless. What I’m doing above is what actual empathy looks like. It means seeing things from another person’s point of view. It means considering brains that are different from your own. It means not assuming that everybody is motivated by the same things you are.

Understanding the mental states of others, their motives and assumptions, insofar as one can, doesn’t necessarily result in positive feelings towards them, or identification with them, or lead to a default forgiveness and willingness to excuse their behaviour. Simply put, if your “empathy” results in you being endlessly forgiving, endlessly accommodating, over and over again, then you’re almost certainly doing it wrong.

Or not doing it at all.

In the comments, Nikw211 added,

It’s actually not that difficult to understand the mentality at work.

Indeed. Yet progressives, despite their claims, seem uniquely bad at it. To a degree one might regard as surreal.

And which in turn may explain the progressive dislike, often vehement dislike, of the reality series Cops, mentioned here, which revealed just how different minds can be, and which made the mentality of the criminals – the patterns of malevolence and selfishness – impossible to miss. Thereby making pretentious sympathy and indulgence much more difficult to muster.

If an illustration of progressive empathy is needed, we should perhaps revisit burglary victim and Guardian contributor Anna Spargo-Ryan. A woman whose mental processes are oddly convoluted and, shall we say, not entirely convincing:

Readers may wish to ponder how someone can tell us, vividly and at length, about how distressing the experience of being burgled is – the anger, the shaking, the persistent sleep loss, the sense of violation – and who can simultaneously dismiss that same experience as a minor inconvenience, a mere bagatelle. As if it were “nothing” compared to the imagined woes of the monsters who treated her with utter, unequivocal contempt, by violating her home and thieving her belongings. Monsters who, statistically, have almost certainly done it before and will likely do it again. And who, with practice, will get bolder.

Readers may also wish to ponder the implicit conceit that the burglars… are the real victims and should therefore be spared any meaningful consequence of their own chosen actions, their own sociopathy. Because, apparently, one should sympathise with the people breaking into one’s home and driving off with one’s stuff. In one’s own car.

Perhaps these are skills only available to Guardian columnists.

Readers will also note Ms Spargo-Ryan’s expressed priorities – her preference for being seen by her peers as a “beautiful person,” aglow with progressive empathy and understanding, over the wellbeing of her law-abiding neighbours and other nearby residents, the people being targeted and violated by the same criminal gang that she excuses with great, if weird, enthusiasm. Neighbours and nearby residents to whom no such empathy is extended.

Likewise, as illustrated in subsequent comments, our Guardian columnist’s zeal in blocking and disdaining those who dared to demur from her affectations – and her claim that I, your gracious host, was much worse, much more scary, than the feral creatures who broke into her home in the middle of the night, and into the homes of her neighbours, while brandishing carving knives.

Because I suggested that her infinite forgiveness may not be entirely realistic, or indeed moral.

If another example of progressive empathy and its consequences is required, this one, via Mr Muldoon, seems suitably vivid.

And very much related, this trilogy of posts, which includes scenes that may challenge the progressive empathy reflex and make such affectations harder to sustain.

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Reading time: 4 min
Written by: David
Ephemera

Friday Ephemera (778)

August 1, 2025 133 Comments

Design flaw detected. || r/Deathladders, a collection of unconvincing support apparatus. || Revving and regret. || V8 street bike. || A tale of Lake Cow Bacon: “Broussard insisted that the creatures were naturally tame and their meat was delicious.” || James Bond comic books from India. (h/t, Tacky Raccoons) || Like aerial ballet. || When you bring home a playmate. || Know your saucepan, 1973. || The joys of public transport. || The progressive retail experience, parts 639, 640, 641, 642, and 643. || Sudden-onset upwardsness. || He doesn’t like talking about his personal life. || She’s a masterpiece evolving. || It’s amazing how quickly the day can turn to shit. || Now is not a good time. || Regarding legroom. || For lovers of never-ending drum solos. || Oh, and finally, fashion choices were made.

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Written by: David
Reheated

Reheated (111)

July 29, 2025 132 Comments

For newcomers, some items from the archives:

Any Widening Of The Eyes Will Result In Detention.

Teacher Appreciation Week, but with ludicrous wigs and big rubber tits.

Regarding Mr Look-At-My-Fabulous-Hair-Extensions, I suppose the obvious issue is the self-absorption of our strapping madam, such that he records and then publicly shares classroom videos of himself faffing about with his wig while expecting applause for his feats of fake-hair management. It does rather speak to his priorities and focus. And that’s before we get to the oddly ample fake bosom.

The other issue, I’d say, is the fact that schools have surrendered to cross-dressing men with a rapidity and full-throatedness that is quite remarkable. The place where cross-dressing men should not be – in positions of intimacy with, and authority over, children – is where they seem to find the most gushing welcome and the most ludicrous indulgence. […]

Supposedly, it’s about making the children feel “comfortable.” Though it occurs to me that the [Transgender Pride] flag’s connotations of coerced pretending, fetishistic mutilation and life-shortening hormone abuse – and generally being subordinate to a cross-dressing man with mental health issues – may have other effects. Say, by transforming a classroom from a place of learning into one of cowed pretension, of deference to the untrue.

And then there’s the not insignificant matter of introducing an element of transvestite farce into the classroom, which may result in children being distracted from the task at hand by the perhaps more immediate question of what the strange man in the wig and padded push-up bra sees when he looks in a mirror.

His Heterosexuality Did It.

The crushing terror of “white supremacy” in middle-school maths class.

Quite how those unspecified “white” ideas alter the rules of multiplication, percentages and other simple mathematical operations remains a thing of mystery. Indeed, as so often, the precise nature of this alleged corruption, this all-pervasive and befouling “whiteness” – a term used 157 times – is left to the imagination. Though much is pitched upon that mystery.

Mr Lolkus laments his “positionality” as a structurer of lessons and “knower of… mathematical concepts,” wishing instead to be merely a “community member.” A somewhat fanciful flattening of “hierarchy,” and of values, and an abandonment of the teacher’s customary responsibility.

This is followed by a suggestion that pupils, especially underperforming minority pupils – the party least familiar with the subject matter – should be put in charge of structuring lessons and the broader curriculum. A sure-fire recipe for success. And then there’s the conceit that heroically brown pupils are performing “additional labour” by doing less well in class, or by not doing the work at all.

Explaining Civilisation.

To those seemingly unfamiliar with the concept.

The uninvited newcomers – chiefly, it seems, men of fighting age and all mysteriously unencumbered by identifying documents – are given helpful pointers on the customary use of pavements and pedestrian crossings, and are warned about the hazards of randomly strolling through moving traffic on busy roads. They are also introduced to the novel concepts of avoiding foul language in public and not abusing animals for amusement purposes.

Other teething problems have, it seems, arisen. As the Telegraph reports: “The initiative by Northamptonshire Police followed community and parental complaints over young male asylum seekers loitering near a primary school in the county, including claims of filming.” Not loitering at the gates of primary schools in order to film small children being another cultural subtlety requiring clarification. […]

One of the consequences of massive, indiscriminate immigration – equivalent to the entire population of Sheffield, every year – is that it radically alters the general mood of those on whom this demographic transformation is being imposed. One might, for instance, aspire to the role of gracious host, as it were, of making newcomers feel welcome. But this ideal presupposes an immigration policy that is limited and selective, and in which newcomers have good reason to feel lucky – and grateful.

The graciousness of the locals, the ideal, depends on the notion that the host country is regarded as something special, a desirable thing, something worthy of respect.

But massive, indiscriminate immigration undermines that ideal. If seemingly anyone can walk in and demand goodies, any ill-mannered flotsam of the world, and if they can do so with no discernible sense of gratitude, or any expectation of such, and with no apparent regard for the norms and values of the host society, as if they were unimportant, then the indigenous population may feel they have little reason to be gracious. Indeed, being gracious may be something of a struggle.

I realise that even the idea that the locals might dare to think in such terms – of being the gracious host – is, for some, anathema, a basis for tutting and scolding. But the sense that the value of one’s society – one’s home – is being pissed away, sold off cheap, is not a promising basis for coexistence.

And yet here we are.

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

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

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Reading time: 4 min
Written by: David
Anthropology Politics

Her Values

July 27, 2025 111 Comments

From the pages of Business Insider, more progressive-woman-lifestyle news:

I knew I didn’t want to live in the US anymore. Not only did I feel empowered abroad, but I also felt that the US no longer aligned with my values.

What those values might be will, perhaps, become clear, if only by implication.

I quit my job, divorced my husband, and moved to Italy to retire.

That’s the article’s headline. The star of this drama is Ms Cindy Sheahan, a former real-estate agent. Judging by the tone and triumphant photograph, I’m guessing we’re supposed to regard Ms Sheahan as some kind of inspirational figure. No explanation is offered for Ms Sheahan divorcing her husband, taking half his stuff, and then putting half a planet between her family and herself. There are no mutterings of neglect or infidelity. No hardships of any kind.

The nearest we come to a justification is,

I didn’t want just to walk the dog, play pickleball, and tend a garden. I wanted a bigger life.

And, er, so,

Once I stepped out the door and visited places I had only dreamed of and ate food I had only read about, it was ridiculous to think I was going to go back to my “normal life.”

Again, the whys and wherefores of this radical uprooting remain oddly nebulous. Beyond, that is, the intrigue of unfamiliar food. We are, however, informed,

I wasn’t into the US’s overconsumption. With the divisive political climate and the ridiculous gun culture, there was no way in hell I’d live there after experiencing a more peaceful life in so many other countries.

So says our woman of high progressive principle – the woman who abandoned her husband and family, and her job, seemingly forever, despite promising to return:

My company was kind enough to let me take a sabbatical while I sorted out my world. It turned out to be a mistake for them, because I decided I wasn’t coming back.

Quite what Ms Sheahan’s employers made of this, or indeed her husband and four children, is, alas, not disclosed. Evidently they were deemed of no importance in this tale of progressive empowerment. And so, Ms Sheahan went searching for herself in Cambodia, and in Vietnam. And Laos. And Madagascar. And Turkey and Cyprus. And France and Spain and Portugal and Greece. Indeed, this quest for self – this attempt to find an alignment of values – spanned “nearly fifty countries.”

Before – presumably thwarted – trying Italy:

I moved to [Palermo] in October 2024. I didn’t want to live in the suburbs – though living in the outer areas will always be less expensive and, in some ways, more authentic.

And as you can imagine, Ms Sheahan is so into authenticity.

So, I chose to live in the city centre.

And being so authentic, so attuned to higher matters, her days are now spent eating alone in restaurants:

Eating… when you want to is nice. You can go back to the same restaurant twice… You have no one to apologise to or explain yourself to.

Oh, and grocery shopping. Specifically,

tomatoes, eggplants, zucchini, sun-dried tomatoes,

Ah, the inexhaustible romance of buying tomatoes. It’s all about personal growth, you see:

I feel like I outgrew a lot of people and places in the US.

For some reason, the abandoned husband and four distant children come to mind.

Don’t get me wrong, I desperately miss my friends and family, especially my kids.

Ah.

But they’re all able to travel,

So screw those guys. Madam has tomatoes to buy.

If the above sounds vaguely familiar, you may be thinking of this.

Via Dicentra.

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