The perils of identity politics, summarised in two-step Twitter form:

First: 

And then, 13 minutes later: 

There’s quite a lot going wrong in this 30-second video. (h/t, Damian) // She limbo-skates way better than you do. // Beef blunts. // Eye boogers explained. // One for granny, I think. // Nesting box of note. // Peacock feathers magnified. // Ping pong run. // Hairless guinea pig. // At last, an under-desk hammock. // Expensive smartphone versus 400-ton hydraulic press. Horror show ensues. // Mishap. // Murals. // It’s a Messerschmitt. // Long takes and storytelling. // We’re still speaking Shakespeare. // He carves pencils way better than you do. // Deadpool titles. // Does not compute. // Doomsday seed vault, Norway. // Nanny state index. // Fifth Avenue, 1905. // It all happens after dark, baby. // And finally, feel the pain of men trapped and abandoned in shopping mall hell.

In the pages of Everyday Feminism, creative colossus Katherine Garcia is attempting to justify her suboptimal life choices and their suboptimal consequences:

I am – and always have been – a daydreamer. There is proof of this in my school records, which contain copious notes from teachers, commenting on the disproportionate amount of time I spent looking out the window, compared to the amount of time I spent paying attention to their lectures. And to this day, I dread anything that gets in the way of my daydreaming.

Hey, I didn’t say she was doing it well. But in short, Ms Garcia regards work outside of her creative endeavours as “very distracting,” chiefly because,  

it doesn’t allow me to zone out like I need to in order to reach the level of mental creativity so necessary to my well-being.

A delicate flower in a cruel world.

My creativity has been criticised because it’s viewed as unnecessary, distracting, disrupting, and a waste of time.

Well, in part I suppose that depends on whether or not that creativity and extensive daydreaming – all that zoning out – pays the bills.

I know from experience that it’s damn near impossible to think straight, let alone get anything done, while worrying about how you’re going to pay your bills on an empty stomach.

Ah. Apparently, “society” is deterring life’s daydreamers from “pursuing creative fields – like fine art, film-making, writing, music, and dance.” And there’s an inexcusable “failure to acknowledge the contributions made by creative people in all sectors of society,” which makes said daydreamers feel guilty and inadequate, which is terribly oppressive.

Coming from a low-income family, it seemed more beneficial to pursue a career in business – something that would bring more immediate rewards that I could then transfer over to my family.

Not a trivial point. In financial terms, the lifetime return on an arts degree is very often negative and there’s something to be said for practicality, especially if your background is a modest one. Social mobility presupposes a certain realism, a pragmatism, and making choices accordingly – say, with regard to the costs and benefits of tertiary education, which is for most an expensive one-time opportunity. Perhaps now is a good time to glance at Ms Garcia’s biography:  

Katherine Garcia… is a recent college graduate with a BA in Radio, TV and Film, and soon-to-be graduate school student pursuing a Masters in Women and Gender Studies.

As I was saying, pragmatism. Ms Garcia, however, is determined to find fault elsewhere: 

Heather Mac Donald pokes at the ongoing rot of academia: 

Earlier this week, several dozen Emory students barged into the school’s administration building to demand protection from “Trump 2016” slogans that had been written in chalk on campus walkways. Acting out a by-now standardised psychodrama of oppression and vulnerability, the students claimed that seeing Trump’s name on the sidewalk confirmed that they were “unsafe” at Emory. College sophomore Jonathan Peraza led the allegedly traumatised students in a chant: “You are not listening! Come speak to us, we are in pain!” As the Emory protesters entered the administration building, they drew on the Communist Manifesto to express their pitiable plight: “It is our duty to fight for our freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love each other and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains.”

Oddly, the chalk marks made by certain other groups did not induce similar fits of theatrical weeping. 

Glenn Reynolds on the same: 

When students at Emory University — annual cost of attendance, $63,058 per year — act so foolishly, and worse, are indulged by those who are supposed to supply adult guidance, it gives the appearance that higher education is largely a waste of societal resources. That’s not a good place to be, right now. 

Meanwhile, at the University of Virginia: 

Students are petitioning for the immediate removal of a conservative student representative who refused to vote in favour of a university-funded group for illegal immigrants.

The student in question dared to use the “offensive” and “xenophobic” factual description of illegal immigrants as, er, illegal. And so he must be punished.

And at Harvard: 

In a class I attended earlier this semester, a large portion of the first meeting was devoted to compiling a list of rules for class discussion. A student contended that as a woman, she would be unable to sit across from a student who declared that he was strongly against abortion, and the other students in the seminar vigorously defended this declaration.

Sitting across a room from someone with whom she disagrees is something that she, as an empowered modern woman, an intellectual, simply cannot do.

And at San Francisco State University, the latest thing, apparently, is identitarian hair policing.* 

Feel free to share your own links and snippets in the comments. It’s what these posts are for. *Added via the comments, thanks to RY. 

As I’m busy elsewhere, I’m afraid you’ll have to throw together your own pile of links in the comments. After nine years of Fridays I’m sure you know what to do. Indulge yourselves. I’ll set the ball rolling with an attempt to melt pennies with sunlight, some self-tightening trainers, a submarine surfacing in the Arctic Circle, the magnetic suit buttons you’ve always wanted but could only dream of, and an impressive display by Mr Smooth. 

Play nicely. I’ll be checking in later.