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Touching Themselves

October 18, 2026 112 Comments

Given ongoing events, and lifted from the comments, a reminder, were one needed, that there are titillated creatures who want to see your homes burn:


Because they’re intellectuals, you know. Enthusiasts of “anticolonialism.”

Update, via the comments:

And I’m just going to leave this here:

“What do you think of Birmingham Cathedral?”

— “It’s shit but it’s a nice place to smoke weed. They’re not my ancestors, I don’t care.”

You cannot coexist with this. https://t.co/82op1dta4q

— iamyesyouareno (@iamyesyouareno) February 2, 2026

For no reason whatsoever.

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

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Ephemera

Friday Ephemera (838)

October 16, 2026 135 Comments

An attempt was made. || Containment breach. || Effortless and briskly. || Mobility solution. || Tom Jones’ Sex Bomb, but sung in the style of the 1500s. || For all your emergency bikini needs. || On the never-never, or the thrill of hire purchase, 1958. || How to straighten crossed eyes. || Relativistic Asteroids, a game about time, light and blowing stuff up. || Toilet-related complication. And the clock is ticking. || Livestreaming location of note. || The thrill of shelving, 1979. || Sudden-onset sitting. || Strange new worlds. || Missing woman. || You want one and you know it. || As one does. || A beginner’s guide to your dynamic vagina. || I do like the pig. || Percentages. || The progressive retail experience, parts 763, 764 and 765. || Whaling fashion, 1834. || And a reminder that true love is a beautiful thing.

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Reheated

Reheated (138)

October 13, 2026 121 Comments

Because some things bear repeating, a few items from the archives:

Damned If You Do.

When your status depends on being impossible to please.

Appearing as a headline guest at Australia’s recent Stella Prize longlist party, “a celebration of women’s writing,” Ms Whittaker felt a need to air her “itching discontent” and to “confront” the “majority white audience” for the sin of pretentious enthusiasm – namely, their enthusiasm for works by people such as herself.

We’re told that being a “coloured” or “Indigenous” writer is fraught with “structural oppression,” on account of being “marginalised” – as when being invited to literary award parties and then swooned over by pretentious pale-skinned lefties.

“Whiteness” and “white men” are particular burdens to Ms Whittaker and her peers, whose suffering – their “collective plight” – is seemingly endless and endlessly fascinating, at least among those for whom such woes are currency.

As Ms Whittaker’s world is one of practised self-involvement, her point is at times unobvious. However, our unhappy poet appears to be annoyed both by “underwhelming responses” to her own writing and by insufficiently convincing displays of approval. All that “endless patronising praise.”

At which point, the words high maintenance spring to mind.

Such is the world of identity politics and playing Browner Than Thou. And if you base your written output and literary persona, and your claim of artistic importance, on being Brown And Therefore Fascinating™ – or as Ms Whittaker puts it, “Blak literature” by “Indigenous creatives” – this will happen.

To complain about pretension – “white fawning” – while in the very same paragraph demanding race-fixated, self-agonised appraisals – “criticism that is responsible for the race of its giver” – is incoherent and faintly ludicrous.

To bemoan woke piety as insincere and unsatisfying, which it is by definition, while simultaneously milking it for all it’s worth and encouraging those same pretensions, is unlikely to evoke much in the way of sympathy.

At least not sympathy that’s sincere. 

The D-Words.

On supposedly racist traffic cameras. Convolutions ensue.

Those presented as victims of injustice, of “racial inequity,” include Mr Rodney Perry, whose photograph accompanies the piece, and who, in a single year, has received eight tickets for speeding and three for running red lights. The article appears not to have had room to include the views of those injured or bereaved by Chicago’s law-breaking motorists, despite an eye-widening spike in accidents, fatalities, and hit-and-run crashes.

Nor, it seems, was there room to consider the possible effect of endless, widespread excuse-making for antisocial behaviour, and its role in making such behaviour more likely, not less.

It seems we’re supposed to believe – emphatically and indignantly – that Mr Perry and Mr Olatunji Oboi Reed, our candidates for victimhood, are being induced to break the law and to drive in ways that are dangerous to others, including repeatedly running red lights, because of “fewer pedestrians and more vacant lots.”

Cyclists and dog walkers are also invoked as possible factors, along with the claim that a black person may have to drive to the nearest grocery store, a feat rarely undertaken by people of pallor, obviously.

And all of this is presented as if the gentlemen’s behaviour, their choices, could only have external causes. Other variables apparently being unworthy of consideration.

And so, Mr Reed, an “activist for racial equity,” expects city officials to “eliminate any racial… disparities in camera ticketing,” while avoiding any mention whatsoever of behaviour and personal responsibility. “The root cause of traffic violence in our society that is disproportionately impacting Black and brown people is structural racism,” says he.

As a result, the default narrative, the woke conceit, is just a little odd. Namely, if black people are being injured or killed as a result of reckless driving, very often by other black people, this is “traffic violence” and “structural racism.” But attempts to enforce the law and reduce the number of such incidents are also “structural racism” and must therefore be done away with.

Our Betters Victorious, And Still Unhappy.

On the not-at-all-spiteful psychology of the well-heeled progressive woman.

The author of the above, Ms Virginia Heffernan, not only has a “pandemic getaway,” which must be nice, but also neighbours sufficiently thoughtful to clear her drive of heavy snow. Inevitably, this induces not gratitude or warm feelings, but fretting and resentment, such that the aforementioned act of kindness is framed, disdainfully, as “aggressive niceness.”

Exactly how Ms Heffernan’s neighbours were being aggressive is unclear, but it seems that we, the reader, are expected to dislike them, quite intensely, on account of their being insufficiently leftist.

As readers may be a little confused by the air of displeasure, I should point out that no history of neighbourly rancour is offered as an excuse – no disputes over hedges or noisy pets. Nothing of that sort is mentioned at all. Ms Heffernan’s neighbours are, it seems, to be frowned upon, indeed despised, in print, in a newspaper they may well read, simply for failing to vote for Mr Biden.

When They Won’t Keep On Saying Just How Special You Are.

On “non-binary” motherhood and making others mouth absurdities.

It’s not unlike someone who’s five foot five insisting that they be perceived by everyone around them as being six foot four. And then getting all tearful and pissy when this doesn’t happen. It’s scarcely less absurd.

You don’t get to control how others perceive you. Emotional blackmail based on demands that others must use fabulist pronouns, even out of earshot, will not change that fact. It may, however, make you look obnoxious and deranged.

‘Every time you refer to me, whether I’m present or not, you first have to clap your hands three times.’

Same vibe.

Even if it were the case that Ms Meghan feels “misgendered” – which would be assuming quite a lot – she has not in fact been “misgendered” by use of the words she and her, or by any recognition of the fact that she’s obviously a woman. She has been referred to accurately, in accord with physical reality. Her mental health problems – any feelings of being “misgendered” – are not the arbiter of what is.

We can see what is.

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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Media Pronouns Or Else

People Not Actually Being Stabbed Most Affected

October 12, 2026 53 Comments

And in always-respect-the-media news, we turn to the Crime pages of the Chicago Tribune:

News of the stabbing had one leader of an advocacy group calling the incident emblematic of how quickly violence can affect the trans community.

Isa Noyola, transgender activist and Director of the Border Butterfly Project, pointed to the wider political climate and lack of violence prevention resources as an overarching reason the situation happened in the first place.

The situation, since you ask, was one in which Mr Kelly Day, a cross-dressing man, aged 32, stabbed to death a fifty-year-old stranger named Larry Young. Such was the vigour of the attack, Mr Young was stabbed no fewer than thirteen times – in the head, neck and shoulder – with the tip of the knife breaking off and remaining embedded in his skull.

Mr Young, the party being stabbed to death, was, one might conclude, rather more directly affected by the incident than some notional trans community.

Mr Young had apparently made some needless and unflattering comment about Mr Day’s non-female status, following which Mr Day became “extremely angry” and a quarrel ensued. Mr Young then pushed Mr Day “before walking away toward a nearby gas station across the street.”

Day followed Young across the street and the pair fought for several moments, prosecutors said. Surveillance video from the gas station showed Day holding a knife, standing over the victim as he lay on the ground and stabbing him thirteen times.

Just to be sure, one assumes.

A suboptimal interaction, certainly, with no parties emerging as entirely fragrant. However, to frame the altercation as an illustration of “how quickly violence can affect the trans community” does seem rather bold. One might say misleading.

Following his fit of indignant stabbiness, Mr Day discarded the knife and fled the scene, before being arrested at Jackson Park Hospital, where he was requesting treatment for a cut on his finger, sustained during his attack of Mr Young, and which he claimed was the result of a cooking mishap.

Predictably, the Chicago Tribune refers to Mr Day, a man, as a woman, using the terms she and her, thereby adding to the confusion.

Via Wesley Yang.

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Ephemera

Friday Ephemera (837)

October 9, 2026 134 Comments

Triumphant scenes. || Following quarrel, audience polled. || Unorthodox pest control. || Organic, low-allergen pet food made from feral camels. || Crooning occurred. || Dachas of note. || CD shopping, HMV, London, 1990s. || Seaside activities of a low-key kind, Margate, 1989. || Mile-high club, budget version. || Bill, as in buffalo. || Beer of sulphuric acid and other inadvisable recipes. || Better than one, they say. || His is bigger. || Blithe Spirit, 1945. || On personal space. || Wheelchair attachment of note. || Lighthouses of the world. || Lippy and legs. || Ladies at large. || A large one, you said. || The Hardiman exoskeleton, 1967. || Nommy-nommy-nom. || College, but enriched. || Fitness scenes. || Oh, and a familiar racial grift is turned on its head. A cost-benefit analysis ensues.

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In which we marvel at the mental contortions of our self-imagined betters.