Bo and Ben Winegard ponder woke piety and its contradictions: 

Even Woke language for popular consumption is complicated by a quickly changing list of taboo epithets. Is it wrong to say homosexual relationship? Is it all right to say African-American? Will I be berated if I say Mexican-American? These changing prohibitions function well to distinguish elites from hoi polloi because they require devotion, erudition, and the right social acquaintances to understand.

Using arcane language and adhering to constantly changing norms about acceptable epithets are not particularly effective for attracting people from the broader population to one’s cause. In fact, they almost certainly alienate many average, and otherwise sympathetic, Americans, who understandably disdain indecipherable prose and elite superciliousness. Therefore, this signalling function of the Woke faith is actually antithetical to the stated goals of Wokeness (i.e., creating a more just social world—which requires a broad coalition of different classes of people).

Also antithetical to the stated goals of Wokeness is the tendency of its most popular preachers to castigate sinners instead of calmly attempting to persuade them of the justness of the Woke doctrine. Antithetical, but perfectly comprehensible from a signalling perspective. Those who are Woke don’t really want to inhabit an entirely Woke world without the bigoted masses; instead, they want to occupy a world of good and evil, of the just and the wicked, of the high status and the low status, of the elite and hoi polloi. 

As noted here previously, it helps if you think of woke piety as a kind of positional good, a marker of in-group status, jealously defended and forever in peril; and hence the unattractive desperation and crab-bucket dynamic that so often accompany such displays. For the woke, it’s always winter, but never Christmas. As Kristian Niemietz put it, 

Sounding dim and uneducated is now, it seems, something to aspire to and encourage, especially at universities:

A sociolinguist from Stanford University claims the way African-Americans speak leads to discrimination across the board — in the court system, interactions with police, education, and employment. Professor John Rickford says, “Black Vernacular English” is viewed as less “trustworthy, intelligent and well-educated” than so-called standard “white” English, and that “dismantling this construction is part of the fight for racial justice.” Rickford, who is the current president of the Linguistic Society of America, said the “modern-day racialisation of language” — which mandates that African-Americans conform to the white norm — has its roots in slavery.

In other words, bad whitey. Because judging people by what falls from their mouths – its comprehensibility, precision and so forth – is racist and oppressive. And if someone sounds barely literate, and uninterested in being understood by anyone outside of their immediate circle, then you should pretend that this is somehow your fault. It’s the way of the woke.

We’ve been here before, of course, when CUNY’s Dr A. W. Strouse – an enthusiast of “social justice” and whose dissertation is titled Literary Theories of the Foreskin – denounced “bourgeois white teachers” and insisted that correcting errors of spelling and basic grammar can “make students feel bewildered, hurt, or angry,” and should therefore be abandoned.

A conceit that prompted the following:

Yes, another chance to assemble your own pile of links and oddities in the comments. I’ll set the ball rolling with an everyday vexation; a very modern woe; our cash-strapped state broadcaster; a headline of note; and a chap who does this better than you. 

Oh, and via Dicentra, more joys of parenting. 

Why female superheroes shouldn’t hit old ladies.

Yes, it’s the Guardian, a page labelled “Opinion: Women,” where we find Zoe Williams mulling the issues of the day:

The new female Captain Marvel does just that in a film trailer – Superman would never be allowed to stoop so low. What’s going on?

That’s this trailer here, and specifically, this brief scene. 

Apart from… some obligatory superhero amnesia and a bit of kinetic energy, the main thing we see is the Captain punching an old lady.

The punch in question is the most memorable shot of an otherwise unremarkable trailer, and as Marvel Comics enthusiasts may know – and as anyone within reach of a search engine could rapidly discover – the titular heroine is almost certainly not punching an old lady, but punching an alien shapeshifter, a Skrull, disguised as an old lady and up to no good. However, Ms Williams is famed for her struggles with research, even as a concept, a thing one might do, theoretically, and doesn’t seem entirely clear what her own point is. And so we must endure a rambling, barely coherent piece, jumping from Jodie Whittaker’s swearing to Germaine Greer and “gender fluidity,” before arriving at a conclusion. Or at least an approximation of one. Namely, that women being at odds with other women – whether in the form of televised debates between feminists, or female superheroes belting sinister aliens disguised as pensioners – is another facet of the Patriarchy and its relentless Male Gaze.  

You see, gal-on-gal conflicts are,

An open thread, in which to share links and then bicker about them. I’ll start, via Obnoxio, with a Guardian headline circa 2025: 

Related, Francesca is a journalist. If all else fails, you can always poke through the reheated series.

I found myself despising all men.

In the pages of the Guardian, a dissatisfied feminist howls at the Moon:  

Life isn’t going how we thought it would. We’re being left behind and without the financial ability (or housing) to freeze eggs or go it alone, or adopt… The idea that single people in their 30s are all having fun is a lie. We are the have-nots and we are sad. What now?

In response to this mournful noise, the Guardian’s resident agony aunt, Mariella Frostrup, informs us that “society has not yet shape-shifted enough to fully integrate us,” by which she means unhappy feminists, and that “the seismic changes needed to make the world more bearable… aren’t happening fast enough.” The possibility that feminist expectations may not be entirely realistic – and that “despising all men” isn’t necessarily a great way to attract a male partner and live a happy life – are oddly unexplored.

Instead, Ms Frostrup rambles about “social justice” and “universal childcare” as “issues that matter.” Because feminists are so thrusting and empowered that they expect the care of their own children to be organised and paid for by some other sucker.

Somewhat related, this. 

Via Joan.

Female wrestler uses thighs and buttocks to impressive effect. || Mishap of note. || Today’s word is placebo. || Our betters gather. || Vacuum, baby. || One-armed violinist. || Mushroom 11 is a game. || Furong Zhen is a place that exists. || This is one of these. || We are tumbling through the heavens. || How many hamsters would you need to power a typical house? || He is, needless to say, a sociology professor. || Cinema cats. || Chocolate kraken. (h/t, Julia) || Autonomous chairs. || Niche humour. (h/t, Ben) || Oh Waitrose, never change. (h/t, Damian) || Life imitates art. || Add feet to your arse. || “When you domesticate a fox, you don’t make a dog.” || And finally, via Tim, a little project for the weekend.

One for Tim Newman, I think:

My friend Bear identifies as someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder (often erroneously referred to as multiple personality disorder) which is integral to how and why they practice polyamory. They say, “I don’t have any illusion one person could meet all my personalities’ needs. We are very different. Different tastes, different hobbies, different things which make us happy.”

As I’ve said before, readers may wish to ponder why a publication aimed at fierce, empowered feminists – would-be remakers of the world – should presume that much of its readership has quite serious mental health issues. 

Update: 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Tim has some thoughts.

Attention, citizens of South Yorkshire. Report that non-crime incident now.

Insulting comments “will not be tolerated.”

For those who missed it in the comments, behold Guardian World, where all things are possible:

I’m sensing mixed messages.

And so, on one page we’re reminded of some unhappy realities:

Prof Jamie Waterall, Public Health England’s national lead for cardiovascular disease, said: “It’s worrying that so many people are at risk of dying unnecessarily from heart attack and stroke. [But] I was unsurprised … given that we have a population that’s becoming more obese and we have major problems with things like high blood pressure, high cholesterol, alcohol and physical inactivity.” […] 80% of heart attacks and strokes are preventable, he stressed.

To summarise. Hypertension, diabetes, heart disease, gallbladder disease, stroke, osteoarthritis, joint failure, incontinence, sleep apnea, breathing problems, depression, anxiety, and cancer.

I know. Let’s call it “body positivity.”

However, elsewhere in the Guardian, we’re informed – by “an 18-stone woman who refuses to diet,” a self-styled “feminist killjoy” – of much more pressing matters. Specifically, that obesity tends to limit one’s access to a flattering wardrobe, which is a form of oppression; that taking selfies from above, to minimise double chins, is a form of “fatphobia” and therefore oppression; and that restaurants often fail to provide widened, armless, reinforced chairs in order to accommodate their more girthful customers. Which is, obviously, a form of oppression. The oversized author, Virgie Tovar, helpfully instructs the non-obese in how to change their wicked ways.

Presumably, then, we must avoid becoming heavily overweight while acting as though we’re doing it for no reason whatsoever.

I don’t generally care about how big someone is and I manage to get through the day without making gratuitous remarks about other people’s size. But I have noticed a recurring dynamic, whereby someone will get fat and obviously be unhappy about it, while being intensely reactive to even the most cautious acknowledgement of either their size or its effect on their mood and health. And this defensiveness can lead to all kinds of mental contortion and some quite bizarre behaviour. Not least among self-styled “fat activists.”

And so we see endless articles in which activists bemoan their unhappy lot and the seemingly life-ruining difficulties of being obese, while the most practical solution, the one over which they might exert some leverage – losing weight – is either not mentioned at all – as, for instance, here – or is disdained as both a personal affront and a betrayal of The Cause, i.e., of whatever martyrdom drama the activists in question imagine themselves engaged in. As one unhappy lady put it, “Intentional weight loss goes against everything that I stand for.”

And so rather than changing the situation, they choose instead to shout at the rain. And complain about people who take selfies from above so as to avoid double chins. Because the drama must go on.

Via Holborn.