Reheated (130)

That

We seem to live in an age of needlessly created problems, the kinds of problems you’d have to go out of your way to make happen, and absurd pseudo-solutions. Like being expected to deter muggers and public masturbators with a small piece of cardboard.

These are not problems one might generally expect to arise randomly or as a matter of course. They’re the result of a series of unhinged, supposedly progressive policy decisions. By people whose politics has made them both ludicrous and morally perverse.

He pretends to be surprised.

Yes. As so often, it’s all rather disingenuous.

As noted in the original thread, Mr Harper’s sartorial affectations don’t include, say, kilts, which he dismisses as unserious, and which would, you’d think, serve a similar purpose. I mean, if you fancy some air down there. For some reason. 

But a kilt isn’t coded as female. It isn’t generally perceived as ladies’ wear. Instead, Mr Harper is much more interested in the cross-dressing aspect. Which will apparently liberate British women from their grim, downtrodden existence.

Albeit in ways never explained.

Wealthy middle-aged women can’t display, like peacocks, how very much they care about certain problems – and thus increase their status within the herd – if there are no problems.

And the result is not unlike watching someone excitedly sawing two of the legs off of a stool and then being bewildered by the fact it’s become unstable, unattractive, and indeed dangerous.

Curated hump fat?

Hey, if Paul Newman can do pasta sauce…

And there seems to be no end to these weird broken women.

I mean, just sticking with Scary Mommy, one progressive publication, you’re practically tripping over examples of eye-catching neuroticism.

As I said in one of the posts linked immediately above,

Readers may wish to ponder just how often ladies of the left feel a need to list their mental health problems, as if engaged in some kind of competition, while demanding that the rest of us aspire to their greatness, emulate their lifestyles, and do as they say.

And it’s only a matter of time before you get a reference to mood-stabilising medication. If suitably bored, you can do a search for Scary Mommy or Everyday Feminism and the word Xanax, or Klonopin, or some other brand of mood-stabilising drug, and find more entries than you could possibly wish to read. 

It’s practically a signature. This is not, I think, a trivial detail.

And yet they’ll say, “Why did our movie struggle to make money?”

And I’m still processing the idea that it’s possible to be educated expensively at a liberal arts college and yet have no idea, at all, that Homer’s Odyssey is a thing that exists. 

But hey, Hampshire College. 

Or just *drum roll* arrest the criminals.

You’d think. But that wouldn’t be sufficiently progressive. 

And besides, addressing the issue directly and in the most morally obvious way, and scraping the perpetrators into the nearest dungeon or land fill, ideally after they’ve been given a vigorous kicking, might result in “racially insensitive commentary.”

And unlike robbing or stabbing passengers, that’s definitely forbidden.

Tell me you never read it without telling me you never read it.

Ms Nyong’o’s rather misplaced indignation calls to mind the tin-eared complaints regarding the film Master and Commander having no significant female characters. As if all stories must feature female characters with plenty of lines and screen time, preferably being every bit as vigorous as the men, if not more so.

Even stories set in a male-only environment – namely, a British frigate during the Napoleonic Wars. 

Which is a bit like complaining that the long-running Aussie soap opera Prisoner: Cell Block H was told almost entirely from the perspective of women.

As if this were some oversight.