From the comments, some items you may have missed. We’ll kick things off with some kicking off, care of commenter Mr Farnsworth M Muldoon:

Curious how when you hear of yet another educator being intolerant, childish, or wildly unhinged, you don’t need to ask what their politics might be.

Speaking of unhinged:

When you get your news from Vanity Fair.

Found via Flappr.

And with near-telepathic simultaneity:

You see, Twitter has “fully assumed the role of a far-right platform.” “It is,” says The Atlantic, “accurate to call [Elon Musk] a far-right activist.”

Remember, dear readers, always respect the media.

Oh, and because I do like quoting myself, we revisited the moral pretensions of Guardian columnist Zoe Williams:

See? If you poke about, you never know what you’ll find.

Speaking, as we were, of the Guardian’s imperious opinionator Polly Toynbee, madam’s latest outpouring finds her reflecting – if that’s quite the right word – on the burden of her own elevated status. The woes, as it were, of the upper-and-upper-middle-class socialist:

Wait for it.

Update, via the comments:

We’re also told that, as a child, Dear Polly “envied” her much poorer friends, with their “cheerful,” noisy, and rather small dwellings, which had “ever-open front doors.” Though, alas,

As a way to conjure gravitas and fish for sympathy, it’s a bold approach.

The point of the piece quoted above, a long and rambling extract from Ms Toynbee’s forthcoming memoir, is far from clear – as is Polly’s way. However, the gist seems to be that class is a terrible, terrible thing, and that our author, a descendant of the Ninth Earl of Carlisle, and whose life is cushioned by multiple homes, here and overseas, and a well-into-six-figure income, is every bit as much a victim of it. What with her fretting so much.

For brevity’s sake, I’ll attempt to paraphrase: ‘I have never known, and will never know, anything approaching poverty. My lack of diligence, or indeed competence, has never been a significant setback, on account of my class and privilege. Therefore, you should listen to me and do exactly as I say.’

Again, bold. Must be that “painful self-awareness.”

In the comments, further thoughts occur.

Update 2:

Regarding Polly’s purported envy of the humble and downtrodden, Mike D asks,

Which reminded me of the reliably ludicrous George Monbiot, a man who agonises over the “isolating” effects of disposable income, double glazing, and TV remote controls, and who believes that we – thee and me – should imitate the peasants of southern Ethiopia, where homes are made of leaves and packing cases, and where, despite Stone Age sanitation and alarming child mortality, “the fields crackle with laughter.”

For Dear Polly, mingling with the working class is somewhat similar, I should think.

Oh, and Mr Monbiot, lest we forget, was schooled at Stowe, an imposing boarding school in Buckinghamshire, where annual fees are a mere £36,000.

At which point, readers may discern the makings of a pattern.

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

For devotees of the farcical and grotesque, a spot of history:

In the following video, quoted above, Professor James O’Flannery concludes his lively, somewhat unorthodox three-part lecture series on the Chinese Revolution. Or, to borrow one of his chapter headings, Our Turn Fuck Up World.

Needless to say, given the subject matter, some dark turns are taken. Notable moments include an explanation of the inevitability of sociopathy in communism; the pivotal role of hysterically self-righteous adolescents; and a lesson in demented street signage. Readers may also detect some, shall we say, contemporary resonance. And do watch to the end.

Parts one and two.

The professor’s lectures on the French and Russian Revolutions, the latter in three parts, are also recommended.

How drunk you should be while watching them is entirely your own business.

Not ideal, really. || Niche dissonance detected. || Incoming. || Incoming 2. || Oh no, not the inevitable, again. || Shadow lag. || How to repel women, part 2. Previously. || Some pleasing trash removal. || Sexual display. || The progressive retail experience, parts 475, 476, 477, 478, and 479. || Quick test, no prep, no phoning a friend. || Leo lives in Portland. || On those vertical lines seen in nuclear explosion test footage. || Three of these are wrong, clearly. || Clackety-clack. || How to clean windows. || “Walking into random houses” for shits and giggles. What could possibly go wrong? And what has already gone wrong? || Today’s word is gaming. || Today’s other word is shenis. || She was affirmed. || And finally, further to this, another thread of adventures in UI design.

Should you be tempted, you can follow me on Twitter.

For newcomers and the nostalgic, some items from the archives:

Clown Quarter Contagion.

At Birmingham University, making white staff “feel uncomfortable” is a goal.

Not Boldly, Then.

On politically-corrected space exploration.

Your Failure To Enthuse Is Violence, Apparently.

Roy G Guzmán is oppressed by the “violence” of people not liking his poetry.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

In the comments, pst314 shares an uplifting, utopian spectacle for Portland’s commuters.

What’s striking about such scenes, I think, is the eye-widening selfishness on display. Other passengers, other people, including children, are seemingly of no importance. Except, perhaps, as obstacles, or targets. And yet we’re told, often and at length, that those who repeatedly indulge in antisocial and criminal behaviour are creatures deserving of indulgence, and with whom we should empathise. As if the favour would ever be returned.

If you’ve watched the reality series Cops or Live PD, pathological selfishness is very much a staple, a defining attribute of the assorted misfits and predators. I remember one lengthy pursuit of thieves who’d robbed a store at gunpoint, terrorised its owner, and then fled the scene in a stolen car, and whose bid to escape did costly damage to other people’s property, and caused other road users to veer and crash, resulting in serious injury.

When finally apprehended, the thieves, themselves unharmed, were entirely unconcerned by the horror and destruction left in their wake, or the fact that it was all but miraculous that no-one had been killed. Instead, they were loudly indignant, as if they were the victims of the drama, heatedly objecting to the discomfort of handcuffs, and demanding to know why their phones had been confiscated. While, within earshot, injured children were being rushed to hospital.

It’s curious how those who find endless opportunities to declare their own altruism and compassion, and thereby signal their elevated status, are very often determined to excuse selfishness of a sociopathic kind and to perform remarkable contortions while doing so.

Such that, having been burgled, for instance – in the middle of the night, by people armed with carving knives – one should apparently sympathise with the bipedal vermin breaking into one’s home and driving off with one’s stuff – in one’s own car. And then, via incoherent prose in a national newspaper, fret about their wellbeing. Burglars being so deserving of our forbearance and goodwill, you see.

If readers are left somewhat puzzled by the piece in question, by Guardian contributor Anna Spargo-Ryan, this is understandable. Consistency doesn’t appear to be a priority, or indeed an option. What matters, it seems, is that Ms Spargo-Ryan is hailed by her progressive peers as a “beautiful person,” oozing, as she is, with infinite compassion. Albeit not so much for other local residents, also robbed in the night, most likely by the same criminal gang, and whose expectations of justice are deemed terribly proletarian and unsophisticated.

But then, ostentatious displays of sympathy for criminals – rather than for their numerous victims, and future victims – are much more statusful. And hey, that’s what matters.

As seen in the links above, the mental convolutions can be quite bizarre. If another illustration is needed, see also this stern moral lecture from the pages of Vice, in which we’re told, emphatically, that the people we should dislike and disdain, and indeed fear, are the ones who don’t feel entitled to rob us, or beat us insensible, or burn down our homes.

The burger commercial we deserve. || I believe this is what’s known as booty. || “The aesthetics of the scrotum is little explored.” || Regarding lyrics. Somewhat related. || The Nostromo aesthetic. The videos about Kubrick are also worth a peek. || Slappy face. || Suboptimal road surface. || Communing with asphalt. || It’s a sport like any other. || Pulitzer Prize. || I did not know they do that. || Do you like what you see? || Snug manoeuvre. || Never, you say. || She wanted “water and a cigarette.” || Choose wisely. || And what instrument do you play? || Today’s word is pursuit. || Pronouns, obviously. || Her pronouns, however, are way more complicated, so I guess she wins. || The perils of imported Monster Munch. || Feathered creature hears things. || And finally, in uplifting news, the wonders that make-up can do.

Should you be tempted, you can follow me on Twitter.

For newcomers and the nostalgic, some items from the archives:

Those Aboriginal Telescopes.

On tongue-bathing the primitive.

A Stupefying Vanity.

On “social justice” and other pernicious academic fuzzwords.

Shamelessly, He Quotes Himself.

On Portland’s mentally uniform radicals, and their malevolence.

Lifted from the comments, a small but telling thing:

“I’ve not done anything wrong.” Why has this become so normal? pic.twitter.com/GKHzIozlRj

— Ian Miles Cheong (@stillgray) May 7, 2023

Regarding which, sH2 replied,

Well, indeed. We do seem to be witnessing an upsurge in such sly provocations, and almost always from the same kinds of people with the same kinds of views – an eerie uniformity. And so, Narcissistic Glitter Bint can invade someone’s personal space and shower them, and their children, with some substance – in this case, glitter – and do it repeatedly, against their wishes, while saying, rather triumphantly, “I’m not touching him.”

The dynamic is basically, “You, unlike me, have some self-restraint, which gives me an advantage, therefore I shall test it and see how far I can go.” It’s the psychology of a child unaccustomed to consequences.

Left uncorrected, it’s a psychology that can quickly become quite vile. As seen, for instance, here.

Update, some variations on a theme:

In the comments, we mentioned the videos of Chris Elston (“Billboard Chris”), filmed at Portland State University, in which students who disagree with him – our supposed intellectuals of tomorrow – feel entitled to harass and threaten, and to throw water on him, and to steal his phone and other belongings.

This related video, embedded below, is ostensibly less dramatic, but in some ways more instructive. The charming songbird seen early in the video, and in those above, is Chrissa Mae Kalal, a student, adjunct employee, and self-styled “trans refugee from West Virginia.” Schooled in the role of persecuted saint, Mr Kalal – formerly Chris Burney – spends an awful lot of his time disrupting and physically blocking other people’s conversations – say, around three minutes in, by repeatedly shoving his bike at the legs of the participants while looking enormously self-satisfied – and generally harassing them in a gratuitous and fairly creepy way.

As one does when one is a Higher Being and stipulator of pronouns.

Note too the equally divine creature in the pink mask, who, around six minutes in, also seems unhappy about strangers having a polite conversation.

This brave woman at Portland State University ended up in tears, afraid of the backlash she’ll get for agreeing with us.

She doesn’t know what’s going to happen to her, and says sharing these views in university will get her a bad grade.

She has to fear for her future for… pic.twitter.com/aC58mIoW4X

— Billboard Chris 🇨🇦🇺🇸 (@BillboardChris) May 9, 2023

It’s worth noting that the man with the bicycle, the lovely Chrissa, and his masked accomplice – the one circling the conversation and ‘accidentally’ barging into its participants, repeatedly – are trying to intimidate the young woman in the video. And judging by her nervousness, and the need for continual looks over the shoulder, they’re doing a fairly good job of it.

Needless to say, what you’re seeing is pathological – one might say malevolent – and yet, for some, it’s a marker of woke status, a progressive ideal. And the behaviour above isn’t the result of some fit of temper or a one-off aberration. It isn’t done reluctantly or under duress. It’s practised and calculated. It reveals a sadistic ingenuity.

Hence the grinning and the self-satisfaction.

You want one and you know it. || When the neighbours drop by. || Visitors of a different kind. || Dating decisions. || I gather this is what goes on in ladies’ fitting rooms. || A suitably ill-tempered guide to the Russian Revolution and its consequences – part 1, part 2, part 3. || Just like the knights of old. || Buffet nibbles. || His clicky nails. || Skillz. || It comes with a curing kit. || “Can I get it Tuesday?” she asked. Full video here. (h/t, pst314) || Disco clam. || Dance moves. || Martian wheels, stretchy metal. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || Emotional journey. || Mystery solved. || Control panel of note. || The progressive retail experience, parts 472, 473, and 474. || A project for the weekend. || How to feel old. || Insufficiently aloft. || Indoor bees. || And finally, today’s word is subgenre.

Should you be tempted, you can follow me on Twitter.