Today is this blog’s birthday. Fourteen bloody years. And the damn thing’s still here. Just sayin’.

Oh, and you may want a moment to process this.  

Consider this an open thread, in which to share links and bicker.

In the Los Angeles Times, a tale of high roads not taken:  

Oh, heck no. The Trumpites next door to our pandemic getaway, who seem as devoted to the ex-president as you can get without being Q fans, just ploughed our driveway without being asked and did a great job.

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.

Of course, on some level, I realise I owe them thanks,

On some level, says she.

I’m not ready to knock on the door with a covered dish yet.

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.

I also can’t give my neighbours absolution; it’s not mine to give. Free driveway work, as nice as it is, is just not the same currency as justice and truth.

Absolution, indeed. What a grandiose creature she is. And so, instead of the customary thanks, Ms Heffernan extends to her neighbours – via the medium of a newspaper column intended to shame them – an ultimatum of sorts:

Unforeseen consequences. || My money’s on the little guy. || He made his own. || New neighbours detected || Forming spheres. || Fun with sand, some rubbing. || Electro-pop. (h/t, Dr Westerhaus) || Today’s word is suboptimal. || She’s an educator, you know. || Modernity is a hell of a thing. || See also. || Screams stopping abruptly, a thread. || Reverse your videos. Or pretty much any video. || “Very disturbed people.” || Branding, baby. || Being woke, she is of course enraged. || Eye-catching, yes, but a bugger to dust. || A collection of found paper aeroplanes. (h/t, Things) || Today’s other words are lubricant and pen torch. || A love like no other. || Clouds. || And finally, some behavioural correction.

Via pst314 in the comments, a tale of crime and punishment. Well, crime, anyway:

A man who was carjacked at gunpoint while he shovelled out a parking space in [West Town, Chicago] on Tuesday night is refusing to press charges in the case, according to Chicago police. The victim “felt sorry for them” and felt that the four people Chicago police found riding around in his freshly-hijacked Lexus have had a rough life, according to a source. He also reportedly told investigators that the hijackers probably just needed a car.

They just needed a car, while already in a car – specifically, a tan Ford Fusion. So, a second, more statusful car was needed, along with anything else of value the victim happened to have. The use to which this additional vehicle might be put does not appear to have troubled our big-hearted Lexus owner, who wishes us to know how forgiving he is, how gushing with compassion.

No charges will be filed against any of them in connection with the matter because the victim refused to prosecute, police confirmed Wednesday morning. [One of the carjackers,] John Daniels of the South Shore neighbourhood, is being detained on an outstanding warrant in a different matter.

But of course. Not the first brush with the law, then, and almost certainly not the last. Carjackers, most of whom menace their victims with firearms and/or knives, having some of the highest rates of recidivism, close to 80%, and with the stolen vehicles frequently being used to commit other serious crimes, including robbery and, very often, drive-by shootings.

And so, because of this clown’s self-imagined altruism – which is to say, his preening and moral cowardice – the armed carjackers will learn a perverse lesson about violating the law-abiding, at gunpoint, and getting away with it. They will be emboldened further and incentivised to see others as mere prey, people from whom things can be taken. And their next victims, whether of carjacking or something else, something worse, will not have figured in this man’s lofty theatre of forgiveness.

In the clown-shoe world of San Francisco public schools, honking ensues:

The director of the district’s arts department told local ABC7 news that a decision has been made to change the name of their department, “VAPA,” which is short for visual and performing arts. The new name will be SFUSD Arts Department. “We are prioritising antiracist arts instruction in our work,” the director, Sam Bass, told the network.

I’ll give you a moment to process the notion of “antiracist arts instruction” and how one might prioritise this feat over more mundane matters. Say, encouraging competence. To say nothing of students of the visual and performing arts who apparently struggle with the words visual, performing and arts.

“The use of so many acronyms within the educational field often tends to alienate those who may not speak English to understand the acronym.”

At which point, readers unmoved by wokeness may be inclined to point out that a way to overcome alienation – here, it seems, a euphemism for ignorance – is via students learning things, perhaps even words. Which is, I gather, what takes place in schools, theoretically, even those in San Francisco.

However, the fretful and enlightened educators wish us to know that unremarkable terms that are not “proactively chosen” by minority students – including departmental acronyms – are “damaging” and “oppressive,” and actually a symptom of “white supremacy culture” and “white supremacy thinking.” Albeit in ways not entirely obvious, and in an environment where the imagined feelings of non-white students, or those who claim to speak on their behalf, seemingly trump those of everyone else.

And if a punchline seems in order:

It was not clear whether SFUSD was also considered a racist acronym.

Via Darleen.

For those in search of a lockdown project, how to make toilet-paper moonshine.

“I’m going to be turning toilet paper into drinkable alcohol.”

Via Elephants Gerald. Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker. 

According to the student activists, to disagree with any part of their agenda is to admit to racism.

Christopher F Rufo on the pantomime politics of spoiled children: 

Keep in mind that [The United Nations International School] is the school of choice for the world’s elites, teaching the children of diplomats and leading figures in international banking, finance, technology, and business at a cost of up to $44,000 a year. The school’s political climate was already thoroughly liberal and progressive… The dynamics at this bastion of elite progressivism reveal something important about the American political environment. The children of the most privileged people on the planet have donned the mantle of oppression to satisfy their moral narcissism and to exercise power over their elders. The adults, crippled with anxiety about any threat to their status, immediately bow to anonymous teenagers leading an online mob.

Needless to say, the well-heeled youngsters have eagerly embraced the buzzwords of woke status, such that “intersectionality” trips off the tongue, and standards and expectations are to be “decolonised.” The school must, we’re informed, “revolutionise the curriculum.”

Judging by the various demands and hyperbolical Instagram posts, it seems we’re expected to believe that the wealthy and statusful are paying $44,000 a year to have their own children abused by “oppressors,” that any kind of “disparity” is proof of bigotry, and that having one’s phonetically unobvious name mispronounced, even once, is “thinly-veiled racism” and a form of “racial trauma.” A trauma inflicted by “the white man’s mouth.”

Faced with an upsurge of opportunist theatre – and asked whether he is, as claimed, a “racist” and an “oppressor” – the school’s director, Dan Brenner, has shown all of the probity and spine one might expect. And so, the supposedly downtrodden Mao-lings behave more like aristocracy, with expectations of deference and impunity, as if they were entirely unaccustomed to be being told no. 

Via Nikw211, who adds,

If this is how, as children and adolescents, they are capable of treating people whose names they know, whose faces they recognise, and who they interact with on a regular basis, just imagine the kind of crude, stunted stuff that will have to pass for something like empathy when they inevitably move into the ranks of elite influencers in business and politics.

And they will have learned so much from ‘progressive’ educators.

There’s a story here, I think. (h/t, Damian) || Knick-knack of note. || You know you want to. (h/t, Holborn) || Manly feats, a possible series. || Papercraft computers. Build your own and impress your friends. (h/t, Things) || Fun with cardboard. || Fun with cardboard 2. || Boom. || What’s behind the belly button? || It’s a Toshiba. || Temples in snow. || Super-metals, metallic glass. || 1960s Los Angeles. || Roland is the one of the right. || Always read the label. || In romance news. || Chords and scales visualised. || Cat storage solution. || If you like wine, look away now. || The teeth are a nice touch. || Attention, heterosexuals. || A historical dictionary of science fiction. || And finally, his voice is deeper than yours.

“There were so many students who came into the school with no preparation for the conversation about race or racism. They knew nothing about white privilege and white supremacy,” social policy professor Amy Hillier said.

It’s a dental school, by the way. For dentists.  

It occurs to me that if you’re brandishing the terms “white privilege” and “white supremacy,” and invoking “implicit bias” as if it weren’t laughable woo, such that the indoctrinated must “come to understand” foregone conclusions, it doesn’t sound much like a conversation. More a series of begged questions, whereby some people can be deemed guilty or complicit by virtue of their skin colour.

And yet, if you plan to be a dentist and attend the University of Pennsylvania School of Dental Medicine, it seems you must first submit to condescension and insults, and accusations of being either a bigot or an enabler of bigotry, based solely on unchangeable aspects of your appearance. Because apparently you can’t do dentistry without the weird political woo of dogmatic parasites who’ve managed to insert themselves into yet another sphere of life.

For newcomers and the forgetful, two items from the archives:

The Blurting. 

A leftist compulsion is pondered.

A more subtle and common example occurred in January, when the family headed out to a Burns Night dinner at a restaurant adjacent to the university. Before the food appeared, we were treated to a brief poetry reading courtesy of a local academic. I was tempted to roll my eyes at the prospect, but he did get the crowd in good spirits. Until a poem about food and good company was somehow given, as he put it, “a political edge.” And so, we endured a contrived reference to Brexit – implicitly very bad – and a pointed nod across the ocean to a certain president, who we were encouraged to imagine naked.

At the time, I was struck by the presumption – the belief that everyone present would naturally agree - that opposition to Brexit and a disdain of Trump were things we, the customers, would without doubt have in common… The subtext was hard to miss: “This is a fashionable restaurant and its customers, being fashionable, will obviously hold left-of-centre views, especially regarding Brexit and Trump, both of which they should disdain and wish to be seen disdaining by their left-of-centre peers.” And when you’re out to enjoy a fancy meal with friends and family, this is an odd sentiment to encounter from someone you don’t know and whose ostensible job is to make you feel welcome.

Trust Me, I’m A Witchdoctor. 

Guardian columnist denounces Western medicine as “outdated,” champions use of bush dung.