From transgender Reddit, a new niche woe. Specifically,

And more specifically,

We’re all learning things today.

Again, learning things.

Ooh. So close.

In subsequent replies, the similarly traumatising terms gock and bussy are also pondered, along with girldick and female penis. And yes, these will be on Friday’s test.

Other commenters suggest a policy of coyness on the subject:

The terrible wrongness of terminological appropriation crops up, as do thoughts as to which terms are most affirming of a gentleman’s state of ladylikeness. Another contributor, a “genderfluid he/she/they,” insists that, as one would obviously defer to a person’s pronouns, one should likewise defer to that person’s preferred terms for their genitals. Because discussing the other person’s genitals is a thing that happens, apparently.

Those unschooled in the world of transgender penis discourse will find much to chew on.

Via Eliza Mondegreen.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Or, And This Is Mommy’s Snatch.

Yes, I’m reading Scary Mommy, where exclamation points abound, and where ladies of a progressive leaning share their political radicalism. In this case, Ms Kate Auletta, the publication’s editor-in-chief, is thrilling us with tales of her domestic nakedness:

It seems, then, that the nudity is not so much shared, a gift to the world, but more something inflicted. Specifically, on the author’s two small boys. I’ll spare you the lengthy description of Ms Auletta’s various physical imperfections – the rolls of excess flesh, the big, sagging bosom, and the whole Fat Upper Pubic Area thing.

I’m assuming she means naked in the changing rooms, though any observance of such boundaries is not made clear.

At which point, sharp-eyed readers may be attempting to reconcile this,

With this:

Come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure what loving one’s body might mean, beyond the obvious off-colour jokes. But apparently, it’s something that one is supposed to proclaim as an accomplishment, a credential of progressivism. I have, however, noted that it tends to be announced by people whose declared triumph in this matter is not altogether convincing, and whose basis for doing so is generally much slimmer than they are.

Still, there are the obligatory noises to be made, and empowerment to invoke:

There we go. Because, clearly, it’s a blow to the Patriarchy, a radical act. A feat of progressive heroism. Not just some incongruous crack and badger. Come up onstage to collect your certificate and enamel badge. Everyone applaud.

That’s quite enough. You can stop now.

No, really. We have everything we need, madam.

So, again, it’s all about empowerment and “body positivity,” you see. Oceans of self-love. Or at least the intermittent appearance of such. Something done “without a care,” except “on most days.”

It must be quite strange to go through life feeling a need to boast in print of some pointed behaviour – specifically, “showing my sons what a real woman’s body… looks like” – as if this feat of not wearing knickers were somehow radical, empowering, and a basis for applause. And to then have to justify this lifestyle affectation in ways that are somewhat contradictory and not particularly convincing. As if no-one would notice. It seems a lot of effort.

When not treating her small boys to the sight of her arse and undercarriage, Ms Auletta offers other educational experiences:

Those lucky, lucky kids. How the time must fly.

Previously in the world of Scary Mommy:

Empowered woman dreams of Donald Trump, has panic attacks.

Empowered woman, user of Xanax, suffers from internalised capitalism.

Another empowered lady and her mood-stabilising medication.

A tale of laundry and resentment.

On auras, emanations, and paranormal parenting.

Empowered woman, who is in no way unhinged, teaches her small children to scream profanities at random people.

There’s more, should you want it, if you poke through the archives.

Update, via the comments:

Regarding the six items linked above, Aitch adds,

Not an unfair question. What with the recurring motif of mood-stabilising drugs, the existential trauma of hearing differing views, the lurid fantasies regarding Mr Trump, or the obsessive thoughts about babies heads spontaneously falling off. To say nothing of how often these preoccupations bedevil ladies who are employed, or have been employed, as public-school educators.

I should add that the links at the end of the post are but a small sample. I can’t monitor Scary Mommy around the clock. And frankly, I wouldn’t care to.

It’s rather like the now-defunct Everyday Feminism, a publication once very popular among the super-woke, with over four million monthly visitors, had an extraordinary number of articles, several every week, on the subject of living with mental illness. From delusions of witchcraft to serious Cluster-B personality disorders.

But among progressive women, there is, I think, a pattern. One that’s fairly hard to miss.

Though doubtless many try.

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.

Attention, comrades. My fellow heroes, titans, thinkers of deep thoughts. It is time to map out the world of tomorrow:

There are no post revolution theatre troops, only post revolution mine troops, comrade. pic.twitter.com/ACIref7r9r

— Hegel Borg™️ (@xxclusionary) June 10, 2024

Because after the revolution, we will need accessible theatre.

Presumably, to take our minds off all the riots and ruin and burning cars. Earlier revolutionary rumblings can be found here and here. Topics covered include the pivotal importance of “artists and visionaries,” and the righteous washing of other people’s bin contents. Thereby enabling us to “eat from a revolutionary and resistance standpoint.”

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