At Vanderbilt University, an honours programme intended to accommodate academic giftedness has been denounced as “inherently exclusionary.” Having now been identified as an affront to “equity,” an unforgivable wickedness, the programme is of course being shut down:

Or, His Unbeaten Ass. 

Yesterday, at UC Berkeley, that fiefdom of Our Betters, detransitioner and “former trans kid” Chloe Cole invited students to discuss the realities of sexual transition, a procedure she very much regrets.

However, expressing regret, or doubt of any kind, is apparently an outrage, a wickedness to be punished. And hence the grinning chap seen below, the one expressing himself via the medium of tomato juice:

Today at a @tpusastudents tabling event at UC Berkeley with Chloe Cole and Harrison Tinsley, this individual threw a full bottle of tomato juice all over the TPUSA chapter members, staff, and their table. @Harrisontinz @ChoooCole

VC: @uhneti pic.twitter.com/CTWd4rfpsm

— Turning Point USA (@TPUSA) October 23, 2024

“I’m not touching you,” says he. “I’m grabbing your phone.” 

Update, via the comments:

EmC asks, not unreasonably,

I would guess that if you attempt it, even politely – at least, at Berkeley, that great seat of reason – you risk being assaulted by a spiteful, emotionally incontinent misfit. One clearly accustomed to impunity.

And that’s rather the thing, isn’t it?

If, for instance, I were considering whether to amuse myself by flinging tomato juice over people and over their computers and whatever, while grinning with satisfaction, I’d expect a not insignificant likelihood of consequently being punched in the face. This expectation is important.

The risk of being punched, vigorously, is important. It inhibits quite a lot of recreational malice.

And the assumption of being able to behave badly, malevolently, with impunity, as seen above, and as seen repeatedly and quite vividly here, is not, to my eye, progress.

Readers will, I think, recall Mr Sasha Yates, the cross-dressing high-school sports coach with an interest in teenage girls’ panties.

The chap so loudly championed by ladies of a progressive bent, despite numerous complaints regarding Mr Yates’ inappropriate behaviour.

Progressive ladies who denounced the “hate” and “transphobia” of those expressing concerns, while ensuring that Mr Yates retained his position, and his access to the girls’ changing rooms, where he paraded around in his own bra and panties, much to the girls’ discomfort, and while asking those teenage girls about their underwear and menstrual cycles.

Progressive ladies who merrily elevated themselves with the airing of modish views, their ostentatious displays of compassion and inclusivity, while in effect screwing over the schoolgirls being harassed by a cross-dressing creep.

Girls whose discomfort and polite complaints – their failure to be progressive – rendered them low-status. Beings of no consequence.

In case you’re unsure, Mr Yates is the strapping madam in the denim.

Well, readers, I have news.

Following the renewal of his employment contract, reported previously, Mr Yates has since resigned, citing “ongoing health reasons.” Which, as the ladies at Reduxx reveal, is something of a euphemism, another coy dishonesty:

I’ll spare you the more graphic details, but in one of the feats of erotica seemingly shared with the world, Mr Yates asks the question every parent hopes to hear from someone educating their children:

At risk of sounding stuffy and uptight, it occurs to me that if you’re employed as a sports coach at a school, despite perving on adolescent girls, and your home-made porno videos, in which you smoke meth, can easily be found by parents, and presumably by students, this is not an ideal situation.

And because, clearly, we need more irony, there’s this detail regarding the school district’s original investigation:

Wait for it.

You may now resume your humdrum, non-cross-dressing lives.

Lifted from the comments, here’s an interview with Professor Amy Wax. Topics touched on include academia’s practised unrealism, declining competence, and the seeming irrelevance of whether a thing is true:

The discussion, at 24:45, of who gets to define extremism – and, very much related, The Party Of Shoplifting – is, I think, entertaining and rather on-the-money.

Update, via the comments:

The complaints against Professor Wax were compiled, with some enthusiasm, by the law school’s Dean, Theodore Ruger, who claims to have experienced “lasting trauma” after hearing Wax speak. This, remember, is a supposedly grown man. An intellectual.

Ruger’s improbable assertion echoed those of several students who would have us believe that Wax’s mere presence on campus is “physically and emotionally harming all of us.” And whose list of grievances included one student who resented the expectation that in order to win a debate, she “had to prove herself” – i.e., make a compelling argument – and another who was crushed by the suggestion that affirmative action policies can leave their supposed beneficiaries academically unprepared.

At which point, the word irony springs to mind.

This, then, is the standard at the University of Pennsylvania’s law school. Where tuition is a mere $76,000 a year.

So far as I can see, Professor Wax’s heretical comments – whether on the statistical benefits of bourgeois values, or on cultures of dysfunction, or on “equity” versus competence, or on her own students’ performance disparities and drop-out rates – have yet to be refuted by those trembling with indignation. They have, however, been denounced as “hate speech,” “racist,” “segregationist,” “white supremacy,” etc.

Apparently, among our betters, it is now scandalous to suggest that a way to minimise the risk of poverty and imprisonment is to be diligent and hardworking, charitable and civic minded, and to “eschew substance abuse and crime.”

Again, $76,000 a year.

At which point, it’s perhaps worth repeating this, from an earlier post on those supposedly traumatised by Professor Wax and the fact that she exists:

Hence the bizarrely narrow range of permissible opinions, the unmentionable statistics, and the zeal with which transgressions are punished.

Update 2:

In the comments, ccscientist adds,

And the result is very often disaffection and resentment, which is eagerly redirected, not least by many of Wax’s critics, towards “whiteness,” or “white supremacy,” or “structural racism,” or some other self-flattering conspiracy theory. The resentment may be misdirected, or entirely unearned, but it is exploitable.

It’s also worth remembering that Wax’s comments about performance disparities and drop-out rates among her own students were prompted by Glenn Loury, who had noted, correctly, that such disparities must necessarily result from racial favouritism and wildly varying standards in admissions. A point he explains more fully in the short, and very much recommended, video embedded here.

Wax was essentially confirming Loury’s own reasoning, and stating clearly what Loury had cautiously tip-toed towards. And yet she, unlike he, is demonised and punished for articulating a statistical necessity, an observable fact. As Wax puts it, common knowledge, albeit of a kind studiously ignored by those doing the punishing and puffing out their chests.

As Wax says in the video linked above,

And noticing the knot, the mental contortion, is very much forbidden.

Time to run a finger along academia’s cutting edge:

Book those tickets now, ladies. Time is short and you’ve so much to learn.

You will, needless to say, be taking instruction from “agents of self-knowledge production” who will fearlessly and heroically “expand traditional narratives about madres / mothering as an action, an embodied experience,” and who will be “expanding the terminology of motherhood as it connects to LGBTQIA+ communities, racial identities, gender expressions, surviving oppressions, straddling socio-economic statuses, citizenship, and cultural memory.”

At which point, readers may wonder whether referring to oneself, rather earnestly, as an “agent of self-knowledge production,” as if self-awareness were an area of expertise, actually suggests something other than self-awareness.

Other temptations include “virtual LGBTQ-affirming yoga,” an exploration of “trauma-informed movement,” conducted via Zoom. And for which participants are reminded to “bring your own mat or towel.”

Yes, it’s a “self-empowering learning environment,” in which the big questions will not be shied from:

It’s no use trying to flee. I’ve locked the doors.

While pondering these questions, and the inevitable “intersections of identities,” attendees will be given a precious opportunity to mingle with Professor Sotomayor, along with Dr Ashleigh Strange – a they-person, pictured here – and numerous, equally dazzling “protest organisers, musicians, poets, and drag performers.”

And obviously, when anyone thinks of motherhood, the first thing that comes to mind is the term drag performers. Which is to say, suggestively gyrating men, wearing tights and corsets, and generally being fierce, while demanding your fealty. Your full-throated affirmation of their gyrating, corset-wearing cause.

This, then, is “the expanding terminology of motherhood as it connects to LGBTQIA+ communities.” And nothing screams motherhood quite like a convulsing bald man in a bodystocking.

Above, the embodiment of motherhood.

You will become “AUTHENTICALLY YOU” – authenticity being a recurring theme of the event – by watching peculiar men hurling themselves about while dressed up as women, something they aren’t.

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

And in unrepentant pervert news:

In the pages of the Los Angeles Times, Jade Sasser, an associate professor of Gender and Sexuality Studies at UC Riverside, informs us,

She then asks, somewhat bizarrely,

Bringing another person – specifically, a baby – into a society in which people don’t always agree on every subject is a new and terrifying scenario, apparently. One entirely unprecedented in all of human history.

In an attempt to make this opening question, and its implications, seem less peculiar and contrived, our fretful educator searches out other, likeminded beings:

The purpose of this racial filtering remains a tad mysterious, beyond a modish obligation to bolt race onto every conceivable subject, ideally with implications of victimhood. The nearest we get to an explanation in the article is the claim that “climate emotions like anxiety, fear, and trauma” somehow weigh more heavily on the minds of “marginalised groups.” A purported phenomenon that will “become an increasingly important component of climate justice in the United States.”

Other categories of assumed downtroddenness are mentioned too:

Badges, so many badges. See how they catch the light.

Hold that thought as we dive into the wisdom of these brown and suffering souls:

Readers are welcome to suggest how one might bring someone into existence – a child, say – with their consent. And no, you can’t use a time machine.

Melanie adds,

Such sorrow. Such sweet, pretentious sorrow.

Clue.

Punchline incoming.

Whether the latter is a function of sexual dysmorphia and compulsive pronoun stipulation, or of art school, I leave to the reader.

For some reason, the words natural selection come to mind.

Not having a dad is indeed regrettable. And so, naturally, Elena makes a point of rejecting any potential fathers:

As part of her reasoning for shunning motherhood, and by extension, shunning a stable relationship, Elena also invokes a dread of “really weird weather patterns,” should any arise. Yes, I know. The word reasoning is creaking under the load.

Other interviewees envision a future in which they are free to focus on themselves. Which may strike readers as a mixed blessing.

Further to this, and also via Charlotte Gill, let’s visit the world of politically radical tableware. Specifically,

Because this is what you need to know when taking a class in ceramics:

We funded this.

But remember, universities need more money 😉 pic.twitter.com/gKEbweQsVG

— Charlotte Gill (@CharlotteCGill) July 29, 2024

For those deeply intrigued:

Well, obviously, you can’t just learn how to make plates.

And hey, who wouldn’t want some of that lovely racial awareness? Or, less coyly, practised question-begging and pretentious racial guilt. Or unearned racial resentment, depending on how brown you happen to be. I mean, you can’t just go through life interacting with people as individuals. You have to cultivate a neurotic habit of seeing people as avatars of some supposedly put-upon racial group. Or conversely, as oppressors, as proven by their pallor, their deplorable whiteness.

And a fragrant utopia will surely follow.

The creative titan behind the project – named, inevitably, Working With Whiteness – is Victoria Burgher, a self-styled “artist from a colonising country,” for whom pretentious, and rather invidious, racial agonising has been a path to many grants and awards. Ms Burgher, we’re told,

You see,

And,

Strained metaphors are very in, it seems. Along with teetering piles of assumptions. Also, Bad Whitey. It’s all terribly original. Very daring. Not at all conformist.

It occurs to me, however, that Ms Burgher’s contrived, modish waffle may make a kind of sense if you think of it as an attempt to add social heft to the otherwise pedestrian art that she actually produces.

For instance:

“From The River To The Sea… #2 (2023). Porcelain, cobalt, gold lustre and glaze, 27cm.”

And,

“White But Working On It (2022). Glazed porcelain ceramic badges, 5-6 cm.”

And,

“Whiteness (2018). Ink on bagasse (sugar cane fibre), fabric, pins, 14 x 14 cm.”

It would, I think, explain a few things. As it often does.

Update, via the comments:

Regarding the unattractive objects shown above, and others very much like them, Martin D adds,

A fair question. One worth pondering.

Ms Burgher approvingly cites Ms Robin DiAngelo, the peddler of neurosis mentioned here, the L Ron Hubbard of wokeness, and whose devotees, as we’ve seen, are often wildly unhinged and nakedly malevolent. Which probably tells us much of what we need to know about Ms Burgher and her racial affectations. The mindset she wishes to inflict on others. And by extension, those who succumb.

And so, Ms Burgher makes her unattractive tat, and calls it art, and treads on ceramic eggshells, and calls it performance art, while listing the hallucinatory evils of having pale skin. And while telling those sufficiently credulous that “whiteness is oppression,” the source of all that is wrong, a basis for eternal shame, and that white people should “not behave white.”

You see, we will purge the world of bigotry by embracing wholesale the mental habits of the bigot.

So, yes. Someone quite fucked up.

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

Speaking, as we were, of Clown Quarter academics and their relentless intellectual thrusting, I bring you this:

“Digital media practices” sounds so much more scholarly than, say, tarts who use OnlyFans. Oh, and Instagram. Naturally, this is being done “through an intersectional feminist framework.” One that “centres lived experience.” So lofty stuff, and rigorous to boot.

The researcher behind this colossal undertaking informs us,

Quiet at the back. Don’t make me flick the lights on and off.

As I said, all terribly high-minded. Political, even.

Should any doubt remain,

And as we’ve seen, many times, the Clown Quarter is driven purely by academic enquiry, a ceaseless thirst for knowledge.

Update:

In the comments, Twin Cities Teegan asks, not unreasonably,

Alas, such details, should they exist, are now hidden from view. We are, however, assured,

At risk of being presumptuous, it occurs to me that this theme of minimised intellectual labour may apply more generally. A suspicion not shaken by our scholar’s claims of “challenging patriarchal systems” by sharing nude photos on Instagram. Or by her public ruminations on such topics as “The Gendered Politics of Body Hair,” a feat of rote regurgitation and colossal self-involvement, in which we learn of the crushing oppressions of leg-waxing and eyebrow maintenance.

Readers who wish to probe further into the bush can find our scholar’s inexpert twerking here.

In crushed-by-niche-culture news:

A mere £1,485,400, since you ask. A gnat’s eyelash. For an issue of such fundamental importance to the turning of the world.

Whew. I was getting worried there.

Obviously, activities that are chiefly indulged in by white people – in this case, folk singing – must be deemed suspect and found problematic with great urgency, and then probed for hidden wrongness. At taxpayer expense.

And all this scholarly rigour ain’t cheap:

And – and – a word-association game.

Those interviewed – and subjected to this no-doubt-gruelling test of word-association – included “36 women, 21 men, and 2 non-binary people.” The researchers thereby deduced that “male associations are more prevalent than female ones.” By which they mean, members of their tiny, rather incestuous sample were slightly more likely to mention Bob Dylan than Joan Baez. And to mention “beards” slightly more often than “long dresses with red trim.”

Also, the word guitar was mentioned more often than tin whistles.

It’s Earth-rumbling stuff. Heaving with import.

However, given the puny sample size, the researchers concede that “it is hard to draw conclusions” from their academic toil.

Presumably, this limitation will be more than compensated for with further “systemic reflections” on “various notions of Englishness.” By Higher Beings who wish to “decolonise” folk music, on account of its “white-centricity,” and whose motives and impartiality will therefore be utterly beyond reproach.

Update, via the comments:

Oh, I think it’s understood quite well, thank you. Along with the kinds of people to whom such things most typically appeal.

Except for the “white-centric” bit, obviously.

That will have to go.

And behind this mannered waffle is the weird implication that devotees of folk music are somehow, simply by existing, excluding racial minorities. Shooing them away. Though, again, details on this point are neither obvious nor forthcoming. Still, perhaps we can look forward to an academic interrogation of classic car shows in Nottinghamshire as some heinous bastion of “white-centricity.” Another item on the list of Things That Must Be Decolonised And Morally Corrected.

Different audiences. Not the audience it actually has, mind, the one it attracts, and which is arrived at via choice and musical inclination. No actual barriers to participation are specified, of course. But the audience is nonetheless all wrong, apparently.

Update 2:

Following the quip about British classic car shows as another potential target for pointless academics, commenters svh and asiaseen caution against giving such people ideas:

That’s this photograph here. Do feel free to grip the arms of your chair.

Having covered quite a few of these “decolonisation” efforts, which generally rely on a fig-leaf of widening access and removing barriers, it’s remarkable just how rarely any meaningful obstacle to access is actually mentioned. Typically, the humdrum is depicted as gruelling and somehow agonising, and motes are inflated to the size of boulders.

We were told, for instance, that racial minorities are being “deterred” from visiting the British countryside “due to deep-rooted, complex barriers.” Barriers such as the fact that rock-climbing instructors are usually white. And apparently this unremarkable state of affairs, in a white-majority country, is something that needs fixing.

Though it occurs to me that if a person with brown skin were being deterred from trying rock climbing by the fact that the instructor is likely to be white, then it seems somewhat unlikely that said person is interested in rock climbing to any significant extent. And a person deterred by such things may also want to reflect on their own racial assumptions. But we’re not supposed to mention those, at least not in an unflattering light.

The monstrous yet invisible forces preventing racial minorities from walking down country lanes also include “a lack of culturally appropriate provisions,” though, again, details as to what these culturally appropriate provisions might be, or indeed why they should be provided, seemingly at public expense, remain something of a mystery. Perhaps we should throw a few more millions at clown-shoe academics.

As I said in reply,

And likewise, were I to complain about being prevented from participating in some Korean cultural activity due to the number of Korean people I’d have to encounter while doing it, you might think me dubious in other ways. You might even wonder why I’d moved there in the first place.

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