Lifted from the comments, which you’re reading of course – Just Stop Oil loons encounter rival group Just Stop Pissing Everyone Off:

🚨 | BREAKING: Just Stop Oil protestors have been surrounded by “Just Stop Pissing Everyone Off” protestors – preventing them from marching in the road pic.twitter.com/nyZy7qqbFv

— Politics UK (@PolitlcsUK) July 20, 2023

Update, via the comments:

Note the conceit, aired via bullhorn, that their ‘protests’ – physically obstructing thousands of people, including emergency vehicles, for hours, and doing it over and over again – are “peaceful,” benign, and terribly high-minded.

From here, it looks more like a narcissist’s power game, a kind of recreational sociopathy. I mean, if someone gets their jollies from screwing over random people and watching their victims’ exasperation and pleading – if that’s what makes our mighty warriors feel powerful and important – then the term recreational sociopathy doesn’t seem inapt.

And if someone’s idea of being caring and morally superior is to vandalise an art gallery, or to gleefully pour large quantities of oil across a road – an act morally analogous to sabotaging the brakes on random cars and motorbikes – then some questioning of their motives, and of the kinds of people they are, does seem in order.

Jennifer Lahl and Kallie Fell on “queered” health care:

Ah, but “highly gendered” and “offspring-focussed” health care – for pregnant women and their babies – makes it “challenging” for sexually dysmorphic women who wish to be perceived as men, even while heavily pregnant. In short, “Screw the wellbeing of the baby, the inhibited lactation, and the risk of serious birth defects. Just jack me up on testosterone and refer to me as Sir.”

I paraphrase, of course. But nowhere near as much as one might hope.

Somewhat related, Heather Mac Donald on fads, transgenderism, and defaults:

A phenomenon doubtless familiar to regular readers.

And Noah Carl on the unspeakable:

Feel free to share your own links and snippets, on any subject, in the comments.

I miss the concept of shame. As social correctives go, it was underrated.

Apparently, we’ve arrived at a stage of civilisation in which chunky middle-aged men dress as women and then deliberately piss themselves in public, on camera, as an erotic high, before sharing the recording on social media and awaiting likes. Which is to say, affirmation.

See also, via Stephanie, this. And somewhat related, this item here.

Lifted from the comments, which you’re reading of course. Also, open thread.

And in ladies’ changing room news:

Trying it on is indeed a phrase that comes to mind.

At which point, readers may note how Mr Firico’s professed “non-binary” status doesn’t mean that he’d be content in the men’s changing rooms, as an option, with either being fine, and instead grants, in his mind, an entitlement to violate store policy and the boundaries of women. He’s “not a man,” you see – and by the same logic, if that’s the word, not a woman either – but apparently, that women’s space is his kingdom now. And ladies who’d rather not get undressed near some random male interloper – whether that man is mentally ill or an opportunist pervert – are expected to shut up and comply. Because his identity, or feigned identity, trumps theirs.

It’s all terribly convenient.

Despite his incongruity, Mr Firico doesn’t appear at all curious as to the preferences of any female customers on whom he might be imposing, and his view of the store’s female staff is perhaps best judged by his willingness to ignore their objections while barging into a space not intended for men:

Views as to which party should feel ashamed may, I suspect, differ. And note that any female customers who might feel uncomfortable or degraded by sharing an intimate space with a bearded bedlamite are, again, expected to keep quiet and defer. In this new, inclusive world, there is, it seems, a pecking order.

Despite a subsequent apology by the store’s manager, we’re told that the experience of not getting his own way immediately and entirely without objection was “embarrassing” for Mr Firico, especially as a sales assistant “rolled her eyes.” Readers are invited to say whether hearing of such unspeakable trauma will deprive them of any sleep.

Mr Firico, complete with stunning gown, can be seen here. The clasping of the hands is a lovely touch.

Via ripx4nutmeg.

Come, let us dip a toe in the world of transgender Reddit – specifically, rFTMOver30 – where the sexually dysmorphic hunt for slips-ups, pronoun blunders, and tiny acts of transgression. As you might imagine, things can get quite competitive.

First, a little background on the author of this particular woe:

The struggle involves a devilish innovation in the world of “transphobia”:

This inadvertent favouring of factual accuracy is, it turns out, only the appetiser. The main basis for umbrage is about to become clear.

And so,

There we go. New ground broken. Drinks all round.

After the gathering, when the guests had left, apologies were of course extracted from the author’s partner, along with confessions of wrongdoing, for daring to suggest that no harm was intended. Needless to say, and despite the lengthy confession and profuse apologies, and despite promises to “sit down” with Alison and correct her, the author of the piece is, we’re told, “having trouble moving on.”

You see, if friends come over for a pleasant evening and they don’t immediately consider you a potential mugger of women, or rapist of women, this is oppressive, “invalidating,” and “transphobic.” Such that it feels like “a punch in the gut.” It’s perhaps not the most obvious basis for invoking the unfairness of the world and one’s own endless suffering, but hey. In this competition, contrivance equals bonus points.

Quite what the author’s partner makes of this news – that in order to avoid being “transphobic,” she must consider her transgender lover a potential rapist – is, alas, not divulged.

Readers are invited to ponder the prospect of a dinner party at which, in order to be polite and suitably affirming, you’re obliged to insinuate that the host is rapist material. And to do it convincingly. Rather than, say, compliment the cooking or the décor.

Please update your files and lifestyles accordingly.

Via Eliza Mondegreen.

Update, via the comments: