I know, I know. I’ve been starving you of culture and refinement.

Allow me to correct that scandalous oversight:

The Western Europe you were talking about? 🫪😁

Two million euros spent on a dance performance by naked black people. “The Belgian government spent two million euros on an event aimed at protesting the era of colonization.” pic.twitter.com/lBXQ0Y4m1B

— Rusich 🇷🇺🇸🇪🇳🇴 (@Rusich7777) July 27, 2026

“I like it very much,” says one lady in the audience.

I knew you’d be intrigued.

The piece in question – by Davi Pontes and Wallace Ferreira, titled Repertório N.3, and performed during Ostend’s publicly funded Dansand! festival in 2025 – is, as I’m sure you spotted, a triumph of the political and profound.

Not only is the liveliness above “challenging and resisting the violence and oppression that black bodies face,” it’s a “brave elaboration of a queer black (self)-defense against physical and discursive violence,” and a “piece of queer Black Brazilian anti-colonial resistance.”

But you knew that, of course.

More specifically,

And then the aesthetic stuff really kicks in.

And what’s more,

It’s all deeply emotional. Very moving.

Reminds me of a club I was dragged to back in the Nineties.

Armed with a deep and radical knowledge of “postcolonial, gender and race studies,” and via the medium of nude side-shuffling, the performers are “finding new ways to represent the experiences of minorities.” Should any readers endowed with brownness care to elaborate on this point, preferably while dressed, by all means do.

For those of you craving more, highlights of another performance, from the ImPulsTanz Festival 2024, can be found here. Given the, um, nature of the piece, I’ve had to choose a screengrab with some care.

No, don’t thank me. All part of the service.

Update, via the comments:

As so often, questions are raised not by the mediocrities and grifters doing the, um, performing, but rather by the audience. The people who turn up and watch, as if they were beholding something of enormous importance, a feat of “anti-colonial resistance.”

As if “the experience of minorities” were somehow being epitomised – and defended against “discursive violence” – by two tiresome queens stomping about in the nude.

Daniel Ream quips,

While Dicentra adds,

The performance and its rather strained justifications do seem tailored to the kind of racial neuroticism favoured by progressives. Their hang-ups and affectations. An apparently inexhaustible resource to be exploited.

Please update your files and lifestyles accordingly:

Elite opinions change fashion faster than elite wardrobes.

When you express a luxury belief, you are communicating your level of education, your income, and your sociopolitical sympathies. It is an expression of what the sociologist Pierre Bourdieu called cultural capital.

You… pic.twitter.com/1UgebJRJT1

— Rob Henderson (@robkhenderson) July 23, 2026

Mr Rob Henderson, speaking above and in this longer interview, has been mentioned here before.

The role of status-seeking in political opinionating, whereby a person’s professed beliefs function as a kind of social jewellery, the latest must-have, has cropped up here quite frequently over the years. Along with the inadvertent social gaffes that can arise if you’re not particularly interested in whether your views are perceived as suitably modish and high-status:

Oh, and this came to mind – on the unhappy siting of adverts – lots of adverts – for assisted suicide:

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

A car is reported stolen. Police arrive. Liveliness ensues:

Bodycam footage has just been released of police visiting an American campus last year following the report of a car theft.

Unfortunately for them, the first person they meet is a cross-dressing student, who throws repeated and aggressive tantrums over his gender identity. pic.twitter.com/ividCN5VkI

— ripx4nutmeg (@ripx4nutmeg) July 18, 2026

Needless to say, the situation does not improve.

Readers may wish to imagine being a student or campus employee who, like the police officer, fails to discern by some telepathic means the expected fabulist pronouns, and who, as a result, is faced with similar behaviour. All that lovely shrieking and bedlamite lunging.

Behaviour emboldened, one assumes, by each new act of deference.

A YouTube version of the above can be found here.

Update, via the comments:

In the original thread on X, what struck me was the number of people claiming that the police officer was being needlessly aggressive and provocative – unlike our bewigged vision of loveliness – and that the use of pepper spray was “not fair.” “They could have just walked away,” says one.

Just walked away. As if you should be allowed to lunge at a police officer with impunity, and refuse to obey the law, with impunity, and be aggressive and disruptive to a psychotic degree – again, with impunity – provided you’re cross-dressing at the time.

The people saying these things don’t appear interested – at all – in the students and staff who will also be subject to this bedlamite’s tantrums and bullying. Seemingly at random, at the drop of a hat. Over and over again. As if the meltdown theatre seen above weren’t practised, a way to dominate others.

Again, behaviour emboldened by each new act of deference.

Oh, and I suppose I should ask the ladies here whether they feel an urge to invite Mr Jarrett Preston Vick – the chap shrieking more than seems strictly necessary – into their changing rooms, public toilets and so forth.

Answers on a postcard, please.

Update 2:

Commenter Aitch adds,

Well, quite. Again, imagine the possibilities should anyone object to Mr Vick’s intrusion in, say, ladies’ toilets or changing rooms.

There’s plenty more to ponder in those eight minutes. It’s hard to miss the repeated shifting from male bravado – clenched fists, lunging, “Just fucking try it,” etc – to girly shrieking, bag clutching and feigned helplessness – to literally stamping like a toddler. The words erratic and surreal scarcely cover it.

And then there are the repeated attempts by Mr Vick to frame his own behaviour as the fault of someone else. They pushed his buttons, etc. As if he shouldn’t be expected to exert any self-restraint in any situation. And all while refusing every opportunity to de-escalate the exchange by doing as he’s told.

This is someone who seems very much accustomed to exemptions and deference – presumably, from people who are fearful of similar domineering meltdowns. This perverse immunity from normal expectations of behaviour, and normal moral consequences, has been touched on here several times, with suitably vivid and rather sinister illustrations.

And I tend to think that such behaviour can only be corrected, however briefly and at least to some extent, when it collides with something harder, something that does not defer.

Update 3:

A summary, set to music:

The mother of all misgendering meltdowns deserves a wicked beat 🎶🤡

Sing along everyone… “Sheeeeeeee! Sheeeeeeee!”#Crazy pic.twitter.com/nMke5VhYRN

— MrMenno 🇳🇱🏳️‍🌈🎶 (@MrMennoTweets) July 22, 2026

Captures the dynamic.

Via Pst314 in the comments, a tale of suboptimal decisions:

Says the cross-dressing man in the floral pinafore.

This American man, pretending to be a woman, fled the US for the Netherlands for “asylum.”

Now he regrets it because of all the Muslim migrants who violently target him.

You can’t make this stuff up.pic.twitter.com/MBizjmHa3A

— Libs of TikTok (@libsoftiktok) July 14, 2026

Our cross-dressing chap, whose name is not disclosed, fled some unspecified oppression in Mr Trump’s America and sought asylum in the Netherlands. As one does.

And so, our cross-dressing man now finds himself in the country’s primary asylum reception centre, sited in the village of Ter Apel, and where his fellow seekers of asylum – chiefly, Muhammadan gentlemen from Morocco and Algeria – are an actual danger, not an imagined one.

“There’s a bunch [of migrants] who think that queer people should be beaten,” says he. “It is too dangerous to walk from here to the grocery store because of the people who live in the camp.”

Sufficiently so, it seems, for the Red Cross and other aid agencies to have withdrawn from the encampment due to the violence, arson, numerous stabbings, and so forth.

A longer video, from Dutch PowNews, can be found here.

Readers will note the displays of the raised middle finger, a universal indicator of warm feelings and good intentions.

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

It occurs to me that if you’re running a “trans-owned LGBTQIA+ bookshop and coffee shop” – “queer books, queer haircuts, queer coffee” – yes, queer coffee – and your patrons have to be reminded, via “guidelines displayed on each table,” of how to behave like even minimally civilised people, then you may want to seek out a better class of patron.

From said guidelines:

That’s before we get to the bits about “violent, abusive, and disruptive behaviour” and, inevitably, “crisis support.” And yet, despite the somewhat concerning reminders about violence and basic hygiene, what caught my eye was the bit about taking your craft projects home with you when you leave.

Yes, today’s word is littering. Why do you ask?

For those of you intrigued – and I can feel the hum of excitement in the room – temptations include Sad Dyke Poetry Night – two hours of mournful lesbians, first Friday of every month – “open to all emotions and all identities” – plus lots of talks about mental health, and Queer Yarn, an evening of “fibre craft” every other Saturday afternoon.

There’s also a Queer Art Takeover, in which suitably queer artists are invited to “rent a shelf” to display their creative outpourings and general queerness. And those best-selling pronoun pins are now back in stock.

Oh, and Palestinian cola drinks. Obviously.

Update, via the comments:

Commenter [+] quotes this,

And adds,

Quite. And presumably every one of those bullet points – complete with its own big pink heart – tells a story about the venue’s clientele. Some incident or other. After all, you’d only need to announce this rather bizarre list of rules if you already have a significant number of customers who are enormously selfish and self-absorbed, prone to littering and violence and psychological crises, and whose personal hygiene falls far short of what one might hope.

The fact that the rules are there – printed up on every table – tells us quite a lot. More than intended, I venture. One might even infer some correlation of selfish and antisocial behaviour with the supposedly radical “identities” being professed. For instance.

Previously in the laugh-a-minute world of ostentatiously “queer” venues.