Safety measures. || Incoming. || She has a red mullet. || More beating needed. || His are bigger than yours. || The thrill of competitive bed-making. || Bin men fortified with beef and tea. || On fish and chips. || Today’s word is clientele. || He’s creating a persona that embodies who he is. || I know you’re distressed and in pain, but let’s talk about me and my pronouns. || “They need to get him.” || Next to Godliness, I’m told. || Test question 17b. || The tools at hand. || Two-mile-wide glass domes and other abandoned megaprojects. || Electric car charging stations, Chicago, 1916. (h/t, Things) || Only seventh? || Setting an example for the kids. || The thrill of crabs. || Inevitable. || The laws of physics are indeed mysterious. || And finally, when the flash is not your friend.

If tempted, you can follow me on X / Twitter.

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Incoming plot twist:

I’ll give you a moment to steady yourselves. What with the shock and all.

Ms Xahra Saleem, formerly Yvonne Maina, is a co-founder of the activist group All Black Lives Bristol, and was hailed by Rife magazine as one of Bristol’s “most influential under-30s.” Ms Saleem’s merry band of megaphone-waving statue-topplers have been the subject of endless gushing and deferential commentary, with the local university subsequently promising to “decolonise” All Of The Oppressive Things.

Discarded placards and assorted detritus from the group’s protests were fondled reverentially by staff of the local museum and stored for later worship as holy artefacts.

Ms Saleem’s trajectory of righteousness will, one assumes, also be a subject of study by tomorrow’s progressive devotees:

To borrow from Father Ted, the money was just resting in her account.

Those general lifestyle expenses included Uber taxi rides totalling £5,800, spent in a mere eleven months, and a remarkable amount of hairstyling. Readers may wish to ponder the degree to which disparities in life outcomes, which so animate Ms Saleem’s organisation, may be explained by Ms Saleem’s own frivolous spending choices and the mindset they imply.

At which point, as you’d imagine, some awkwardness ensued:

No laughing at the back.

Subsequently quizzed on her prodigious appropriation of other people’s money, Ms Saleem explained,

And, somewhat belatedly, apologies were offered.

Dramatic pause.

Ms Saleem can be seen here, suitably shrouded in piety, shortly before being sentenced to two and a half years in prison.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Emil Kirkegaard on schooling and intelligence, and their limited relationship:

And speaking of education:

The specifications for said installation are quite detailed, including soundproofing, wall handles, and knee pads. For safety and comfort, one assumes.

Heather Mac Donald on progressive evasions and the consequent cultivation of anti-white sentiment:

We’ve been here before, of course. More than once.

Helen Joyce on the perversity of wokeness:

And finally, a thread on what happens when, in the name fostering progress and sensitivity, the police start hiring the sexually dysmorphic.

Apparently, these be-wigged individuals are bringing tolerance and understanding by harassing people manically, and repeatedly lying, and stalking women and sending them headless birds, and strangling people, and attacking a woman with a hammer. Oh, and hoarding explosives, obviously.

If that isn’t sufficiently bizarre, I do have more.

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

It prevents chafing. || Child relocation device. || At last, the chairs of Star Trek. Previously, the chairs of Doctor Who, and the chairs of Blake’s 7. || Seasonal, yes, but possibly a bit much. || The bouncy guy must have a job title. || Agreeable rubbing. || Girly girl, with parenting skills, and all the usual girl problems. || The thrill of spider anatomy. || Our betters opine. || Puppet show. || Prototype. || More display shelves of note. Previously and related. || Trimming with lasers. || When your customers are classy. || Hipster conkers. || Hatchlings. || He kinda likes it. || Not, I suspect, from Krypton. || Tiresome kink detected. || You want one and you know it. || When you want the full-face experience. || And finally, a short film about low-gravity living – One Revolution Per Minute.

If tempted, you can follow me on X / Twitter.

To register with the blog and thereby enable extra commenting options – including @username mentions and live notifications – scroll down to the black ‘Meta’ box at the very bottom of the page. It’s free and quite painless.

Are you ready for a “genderqueer planet”? Of course you are. And obviously, you have questions.

Thank goodness a teacher walks among us, a guide to what lies ahead. Meet Laura (formerly Lawrence) Jacobs, a man who describes himself as “trans and genderqueer-identified, kinky and non-monogamous,” and as a “lesbian” with “multiple intersecting identities.” And – because the universe has a sense of humour – a psychotherapist.

Above, Mr Jacobs and his lingerie.

When not offering his expertise to prostitutes and “unicorns,” and devotees of polyamory and nipple clamps, Mr Jacobs shares his feverish visions with those less enlightened:

It’s all terribly exciting:

Get ready for flowerplasty https://t.co/gj5MQlgsUG

— Σ𝕏ulansic 🦎 (@TTExulansic) October 25, 2023

Readers with a taste for “empowered acts of self-creation,” and an unstable sense of self, will find much to chew on. The promise of wonders as yet unimagined. Because those bizarre, prosthetic pseudo-genitals will be “valid and valued.” And crowds will surely come.

Though given the limitations of current technology, as illustrated vividly here, you may have to wait a while.

Still, while you look forward to all those below-the-belt upgrades, you could always book a Zoom session and whet that appetite. You see, Mr Jacobs is more than a mere psychotherapist. He’s a full-on guru, practically a messiah:

Yes, those repeatedly mutilated novelty genitals – the ones that, if you squint, look like flowers or abstract sculpture – will light the way.

Batteries not included.

Scrolling through X, formerly Twitter, two items caught my eye. The first, from the publication laughingly referred to as Scientific American, where we are told, in no uncertain terms:

I’ll give you a minute to process that. Let it roll around your mind. And do note the loaded, rather question-begging word inequity.

The second item, some terribly modern sporting news:

A trans-identified male student seized the title of "Fastest Sophomore Girl" at a cross country championship in Maine this past weekend.

Soren Stark-Chessa, who beat the female racers by 90 seconds, previously ranked 172nd in the Freshman Boys category.https://t.co/xiwRuPJI2J

— REDUXX (@ReduxxMag) October 23, 2023

In videos of the race, several spectators can be heard shouting, not without cause, “Way to cheat, bro.”

In sports that are dependent on skills other than speed, endurance, and raw power – say, archery or shooting – the difference in peak male and female performance may be negligible. But where such things are decisive – as in most sports – to not concede the obvious requires a feat of ideological contortion – a kind of learned stupidity.

And as seen by the inclusion and near-inevitable triumph of Mr Stark-Chessa, our “Fastest Sophomore Girl,” pretending at an Olympic level is very much in fashion.

See also:

As performance coach Steve Magness notes here,

And cheating, as seen above, would presumably become an applauded norm. Or a heckled farce. I suppose it could go either way:

But hey, pride.

It turns out that those inherent biological differences are quite important. In terms of elite sprinting and endurance running, they result in a male advantage of around ten or twelve percent. Ditto cycling, swimming, high-jumping, skating, and many other sports, where performance differences by sex range from around five percent to, in long-jumping, around twenty.

For elite male and female weightlifters – in the same weight class – the difference in performance is around thirty percent. It’s also worth noting that men have greater grip strength than similarly trained women, about sixty percent more, and have vastly greater punching ability – more than double.

As Mr Magness adds here,

But as we’ve seen – and seen quite vividly – we mustn’t expect too much from the current, scrupulously woke, editor-in-chief of Scientific American.

Updated via the comments.

And then acting all surprised. Via the comments, a conundrum for our times:

Hire or fire? 🔥 pic.twitter.com/6RdKKS4heF

— 🌈 Tess T. Eccles-Brown, PhD (@TTEcclesBrown) October 21, 2023

In the comments, Jen replies,

The above does seem to be yet another variation of, “I’ve chosen to send a round-the-clock provocative, anti-social message. Why are people noticing my round-the-clock provocative, anti-social message?”

And when someone, a supposed adult, goes out of their way to announce that they have the mindset of a resentful, unhappy teenager, it seems wise to register that message and to respond accordingly. Say, by hiring someone else.

From deep in the archives, this came to mind:

The archived post, linked above, prompted a long and lively discussion in which we noticed the number of Observer readers who feel that Mr Clark and other body-modification enthusiasts are entitled to be hired regardless of how they present themselves to an employer (and to that employer’s customers). As if contrarian choices should never have real-world consequences of an unflattering kind. As if actively choosing to make one’s chances of employment slimmer and more perilous were a thing to be both applauded and rewarded.

Update, via the comments:

Regarding our aggrieved FedEx employee, sk60 adds,

To which, Old Glyn replies, drily,

It might, I think, be amusing to watch the FedEx HR department trying to devise coherent rules as to which employees are allowed to wear such items, and which aren’t, based on the employee’s melanin levels and sexual inclinations. And then having to factor in whether any given customer, of any hue and/or inclination, might find such items equally charming when being handed their parcels.

Readers may also wish to ponder the apparent need to share such adornment dramas with the world, with random strangers, via social media. As if one were the subject of a gripping documentary series. Or a reality-TV star, albeit on a budget. And so, our supposedly downtrodden exhibitionist boasts of defying his employer in a TikTok video that can easily be found by said employer.

Which prompts the thought that, for some, the need for drama and attention, and contrived victimhood, may trump the more mundane need for employment, at least for a while. And should our hero’s employment consequently be discontinued, we can presumably look forward to more videos professing new heights of martyrdom.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Plot twist. || “She literally rolled her eyes at me.” || I’ll just leave this here, I think. || Clowns and collisions. || Living space. || “I wish you guys didn’t do this.” Or, the progressive retail experience, parts 508, 509, 510, and 511. || Press conference scenes. || Super excited. || Sporting commentary of note. || Your new bedroom companion. || Imagine being this tiresome and needy. || Nommy-nommy-nom. || Not entirely unfair. || “I really like your fur.” || Life-form readings. || Someone at the door, darling. || I do hope you brought your categorisation card. || I know, you have questions. || Man is confused. || Choices were made. See also. || When you’re being made an accessory to their arousal. || Related. || Smack dat ass. || Front-row seat. || And finally, for those of you in search of the latest thing.

If intrigued, you can follow me on X / Twitter.

To register with the blog and thereby enable extra commenting options – including @username mentions and live notifications – scroll down to the black ‘Meta’ box at the very bottom of the page. It’s free and quite painless.

And in lofty academic news:

Because victimhood is currency and status, and therefore terribly competitive.

The particulars of that “interconnected nature” are, sadly, not disclosed. Instead, the word “intersectionality” is deployed as some self-explanatory justification, both for the expansion of the museum and, one assumes, the additional funding.

The Museum of Sexist Objects is, it seems, a triumph in every possible way, according to those paid to curate its wonders, and to generally look busy while nobody cares. With Ferris State history professor Tracy Busch adding that the museum “has accomplished its vision by increasing awareness of the damage that sexism causes to not only women and girls, but also to men and the LGBTQ+ community.” Though, again, specifics on these points are not articulated.

Other priorities, however, are made clear:

Objects deemed sexist and reprehensible – sorry, “artefacts of intolerance” – include a child’s ironing playset, a set of false eyelashes, a joke sign about beer being better than women, a glamour calendar featuring pneumatic ladies in minimal lingerie, a “Hillary Sucks” poster, and, bizarrely, a signed publicity photograph of Dr Condoleezza Rice.

Other morally corrupting artefacts include a Condoleezza Rice promotional bobble-head doll – “Condi 2008” – which is somehow sexist and oppressive, unlike the near-identical promotional bobble-head dolls of male politicians.

Oh, and a 1997 novelty foodstuff by the name of Pasta Boobs.

Needless to say, the corresponding novelty pasta for ladies’ hen parties – shaped as you’d imagine – was not deemed worthy of inclusion.

Readers who feel an urge to tut about such things, and to generally disapprove, can do so, thanks to the museum’s website, which can be found here.

Come, let us turn to the pages of Men’s Health, where Zachary Zane, a “sex writer, author, and ethical Boyslut,” answers “pressing sex questions with thorough, actionable advice.”

“Boyslut,” by the way, is,

Not just open, but very, very open.

You see,

Hundreds of people. Of all genders. Hold that thought.

Now, on to the meat of things – the problem faced by Men’s Health reader, Small and Scared:

For the sake of those with delicate sensibilities, I’ll spare you much of the subsequent reply, which concerns insecurities, dodgy surgeries, and “a world obsessed with penis size.” However, the following did catch the eye.

Says Mr Zane,

At which point, readers may note a curious, rather mannered choice of language, an odd asymmetry. Throughout the piece, men are referred to as, well, men; while women – the sex equipped with vulvas and such – are acknowledged as “a person with a vulva,” or “vulva-owners,” or as some disembodied “vulva,” on which sex is performed.

As if one were being intimate only with an abstracted set of genitals, and not with the woman of whom those genitals are a part.

Whether women so described are likely to be grateful for this phrasing, and instantly aroused by such erotic poetry, I leave to others. Though I’m now wondering whether the publication in which the above appears should be renamed Prostate-Havers’ Health, or Beings With Penis Health. Something along those lines. Or would that be silly?

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.