Issues Of Earth-Rumbling Import
Meanwhile, at Boston University, enormous thoughts are being had:
The she in question is Professor Megan Elias.
Oh, and she’s talking about food.
Obviously.
The question “what is queer food?” is, we’re told by Professor Elias, “a question that’s coming up a lot lately.” If only among academics desperate for an angle, an excuse for claiming a salary and wasting other people’s time. Academics much like Professor Elias.
Welcome to the bleeding edge of human mental activity.
Quite how one can write “an illustrated guide to queer food,” complete with recipes, as Professor Ilias has, while simultaneously being unable to define what such a thing is, should it exist, is a question I leave to the reader.
Specifics of the professor’s course content are, as one might imagine, a little sketchy, beyond the obligatory claims of things being “disrupted” and “interrogated,” albeit in ways not altogether clear, or indeed convincing.
We are, however, informed that the credulous and self-absorbed will be invited to ponder what they might eat on a first date – because that’s totally worth those annual fees of $90,000 – and “how [their] food choice is representing [their] gender identity.” Which is a thing that food should do, apparently.
Oh, and the aforementioned,
On grounds that being, say, “polyamorous” – i.e., a neurotic slag – may, in ways unexplained, determine how much you like lasagne or carrots.
Such is the sophistication of our times.
Those so inclined, and with nothing better to do, are welcome to reflect on yesterday’s dinner, or this morning’s breakfast, and then explain to the rest of the class how those foodstuffs “represent” your “gender identity.”
I’ll award points for contrivance.
Readers may recall our adventures in “queered” history, which is like history, but less so. And, as above, much more self-involved.
This blog is kept afloat by the tip jar buttons below.
The amount of useless research in academia is staggering.
John Bolton once said “You could lose the top 10 floors of the U.N. Secretariat building and it wouldn’t make a bit of a difference”.
The same applies to nearly all universities today.
Absent reading this blog post, my first guess would have been “food calculated to offend normal people”. Or maybe “ways of eating that violate every norm of propriety and public health”.
And somehow, these people are managing to ruin a generation. Boggles the mind, really.
But are they being ‘de-colonised’?
Obviously the colors of the foods of every meal must represent the colors of the rainbow, or ROY G BIV.
“Queer” is, of course, not about sex, but about the Revolution. I had no idea it had run out of low-hanging fruit and moved on to such oddities.
Next up: the queering of electric outlets, or the mixolydian scale, or possibly A = 440Hz. All topics worthy of Problematization. Can’t wait!
BREAKING: Anti-Khamenei Iranians are clashing with pro-Hamas white liberal women. You quite literally cannot make this up.
ESR replies to an arrogant Harvard grifter:
Not only that, the Harvard University Official Smart Person misrepresents Asimov’s Foundation series.
That was a thing of beauty. I’m glad he’s on our side.
One might consider that this kind of scam is the university equivalent of Somali “daycare”.
No “might” about it: Universities are now mostly grift.
What odds Prof. Elias’ dissertation includes the word “autoethnography”?
Going to need a minute…
It’s the fact that the premise, the justification, is so contrived and threadbare, so laughably insubstantial. This, it seems, is as good as it gets.
For $90,000 a year.
For gays, I presume it involves a lot of kale and soy bean. One must, after all, fit into those fabulous pants.
For lesbians, doritos and oreos appear to dominate.
Over the last decade, I’ve ceased donating to my alma maters. The idea of my money being wasted on those administratively bloated bastions of woke idiocy is too hard to bear.
I’m still trying to work out how yesterday’s homity pie, or the pizza from the day before, was “representing” my “gender identity.”
Going to need a more powerful computer.
Not entirely unrelated, tales of erotic mollusc-gobbling.
Again, it’s the sheer flimsiness of the pretence. The realisation that this is what you can get away with. Without being laughed out of the room.
Erotic Mollusc is the name of my next band.
Or maybe Mussel Beach.
Enormous nerve.
Well, yes. The signature arrogance of a bubble inhabitant.
Note that in her self-promoting video, linked in the post, our professor’s opening statement – about “what is queer food?” being “a question that’s coming up a lot lately” – is not entirely plausible. One might even call it a lie.
And this is the standard on offer. This is deemed good enough.