For all entertainment and cultural consumption:

I hate to break it to you, but everyone is “problematic.” Human beings are flawed. If they weren’t, literature and art would not exist. You’ve been duped by an ideology that will happily rob you of all joy and complexity in life and art. https://t.co/kLY3CGmnMo

— Joseph Massey (@jmasseypoet) May 3, 2026

Imagine the hours of fun. All that tutting and disapproval.

Update, via the comments:

The urge to achieve purity in such matters is, I think, a little odd. I look at my own bookshelves and I’ve long since become accustomed to reading things by authors whose political opinions – insofar as they’re known to me and insofar as I’d care to find out – may not be entirely congenial. Given the progressive dominance of cultural production, that’s kind of difficult to avoid.

Ditto TV and cinema.

And if madam feels a need to pre-emptively vet authors for ideological congeniality on every issue before investing time in their work, I’m guessing she may extend much the same filtering to friends, of whom similar conformity is presumably expected, and possibly family too. Which doesn’t strike me as a recipe for a happy life. Or one in which new things may be found out.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Because you look starved of culture, I bring you the formidable figure of rap sensation Dajua Blanding, known to her admirers as Dank Demoss:

What’s her rap name? pic.twitter.com/OvrfklCc0R

— TaraBull (@TaraBull) April 26, 2026

Bonus points if you spotted the location of madam’s phone.

Keen-eyed readers may recognise Ms Demoss from her previous adventures in enormousness. Which seem to consist largely of harassing Lyft drivers fearful for their suspension.

For those erotically intrigued – and with a taste for what I can only describe as front arse cheeks – glamour shots are available.

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

The time is upon us when I rashly appeal to the better nature of my patrons, with a reminder that this establishment is made possible by the kindness of strangers. If you’d like to ensure this place exists a while longer and remains ad-free, there are three buttons below the fold with which to monetise any love. Debit and credit cards are accepted. If what happens here is of value, this is a chance to show it.

If one-click haste is called for, there’s a QR code in the sidebar, at which you point your phone camera, and my PayPal.Me page can be found here. There are also SubscribeStar and Ko-Fi accounts, via which love may be monetised, whether as one-off donations or monthly subscriptions. Should you be gripped by an urge to express encouragement via currency, by all means succumb.

Additionally, any Amazon UK shopping done via this link, or via the button in the sidebar, results in a small fee for your host at no extra cost to you.

Sordid business, I grant you, but it’s what keeps this place here.

For newcomers wishing to know more about what’s been going on here for nineteen chuffing years, in over 3,500 posts and hundreds of thousands of comments, the Reheated series is a pretty good place to start – in particular, the end-of-year-summaries, which convey the fullest flavour of what it is we do. A sort of blog concentrate. If you like what you find there… well, there’s lots more of that.

Do take a moment to poke through the discussion threads too. The posts are intended as starting points, not full stops, and the comments are where much of the good stuff is waiting to be found. And do please join in.

As always, thanks for the support, the comments, and the company.

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

Lifted from the comments, which you’re reading of course, Christopher Rufo spies more dolts and liars in dumb academia:

And yet, none of these post-colonial theorists want to “decolonize” electricity, antibiotics, and other oppressive constructs of the Western world, in order to return to the authentic indigenous ways of the darkened teepee and dying from a small scratch on the leg. https://t.co/iL4cwZIqrr

— Christopher F. Rufo ⚔️ (@christopherrufo) April 17, 2026

Note that the first words uttered by Noah Romero, our Assistant Professor of Native American and Indigenous Studies, are hilariously untrue. Note too his framing of his own efforts – all that “undoing, dislodging, subverting” – as an “eradicative project,” one intended to purge Western civilisation of its, well, civilisation.

And presumably, by implication, to purge it of people like thee and me. Those who might protest. But remember, we’ve been assured that the term decolonise is “misinterpreted” by those who dare to look unimpressed, and that it is, despite appearances, entirely benign, used by higher beings with the most fragrant of intentions.

In entirely unrelated news, Hampshire College, where Mr Romero peddles his claptrap, among his fellow educators – sorry, fellow “activists” – is closing down permanently at the end of this year. Due to debt, accreditation issues, and steeply declining enrolment.

Whether this impending closure will impact Mr Romero’s primitivist fantasies of remaking the world, by dislodging and subverting things, or prompt any reflection on his life choices more generally, is a question I leave to the reader.

Conceivably, the world may soon be denied Mr Romero’s “projects that examine the anti-colonial pedagogies found in minority-led punk, skateboarding, and unschooling subcultures.”

I’ll give you a moment to bite down on your fist in sorrow.

But fear not, very similar noises, mouthed by eerily similar idiots, can be found elsewhere. More easily, and often, than one might wish.

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

I thought that might get your attention.

And now, in the interests of raising awareness and fostering sensitivity, in the name of visibility, I bring you the travails of the modern cross-dressing man:

You’ve heard of foot fet!sh but are you prepared for transgender toe dysphoria pic.twitter.com/kIuJTGsjxV

— Exulansic (@TTExulansic) April 12, 2026

You see, that second toe “feels like a man toe to me.”

Oh, and the sound of his pee. That also induces feelings of dysphoria. Which I suppose one might rephrase as awareness of the pretence. The attempt to falsify and deceive. So as to venture where one shouldn’t:

Possibly on account of being a mentally ill man getting his kicks, his affirmation jollies, in the women’s toilets.

Previously: When your feet aren’t being affirmed as non-binary.

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