No Shit, She-Lock

You have to be utterly self-absorbed and narcissistic to post something like this:

Apparently some things are too much, even for the French, and I can see why.  Fucking hell, I’ve seen more demure clothing on the midnight shift during Fleet Week.  From now on, every new edition of the dictionary will feature this woman’s picture under “Trashy”, and rightly so.

And of course, every bloody barracks-room lawyer is going to whine that the Louvre’s rules (note the capitalization, idiot) technically allow any outfits, even one like hers inside the building.  Yeah, fine, and I’m quite aware that the museum isn’t a church too.

But:  let’s hear it for the Louvre guard who didn’t want the priceless works of art inside his building sullied by this whore I mean “influencer”.  (Oh yeah, she has X thousand “followers” and groupies, so that excuses everything.  Not.)

Of course, she is Australian so it’s understandable that she would have no class, manners or sense of decorum, but that just makes me all the more satisfied that someone would actually step up and say, “Non!”

There should be more of that.  A lot more.

Kicking Down Fences

I read this article via Insty a few days back, and it’s stayed with me ever since because it’s becoming an increasingly-familiar feeling:

Would you feel comfortable wearing a MAGA hat? Or would you worry you might get assaulted?

The Democrats are now embracing “democratic socialism.” Their activists are dressing up in hoods and masks and terrorizing citizens.

But we’re not supposed to complain about it. It’s getting dangerous to speak your mind. Dangerous to your career, and even to your safety.

I worry about how free America still will be in six years because the Democrats… they’ve got an agenda. They want to narrow the range of acceptable opinions. To cow us, restrict us, make us scared to speak. From day to day, Americans are getting bullied, browbeaten, and herded like sheep. The Democrats are driving us into the narrow, reeking pen of political correctness. Its fences are constantly moving, and in only one direction. They are closing in on us.

Here’s what worries me about this.  I don’t worry about being assaulted for wearing some kind of “offensive” clothing.  I don’t worry that my car will be keyed because I have an NRA/TSRA decal on the back window.  I don’t worry about being screamed at or spat upon because of [insert Lefty outrage here].

I don’t worry about any of that.  I worry about how I’ll react to any of the above.

I don’t want to beat the shit out of some snotty punk screaming insults into my face, or break someone’s hand when they’ve just keyed my car.  And if some Pantifa asswipe comes at me with a bike lock or pickax handle, I sure as hell don’t want to shoot the little prick in the face.

But I might well do any or all of that — and then have to face the legal consequences.

It’s all very well to say, “Oh, but you were in the right:  you were justified in responding to [whatever just happened to you].”  I might be in the right, but there will still be a mountain of legal crap to be endured, lawyer’s fees and all that nonsense.  It’s like having a car accident when the other guy ran the red light:  he’s in the wrong, but you’re still the one with a wrecked car.

That said:  I think these little Lefty shits need to face up to something:  it’s all very well to play these little games, but I don’t think they realize that our patience may be great, but it’s not limitless.

It’s only a question of time.

But in the meantime, I find excuses not to go to Austin, even though I have close friends there I want to visit, because Austin TX is Loony Lefty Central.  I sometimes worry about that NRA sticker getting me a bad Uber review from a passenger (I’m a  “five-star” driver, which has its privileges).  I worry about some SJW waiter spitting in my food after overhearing my dinner-table conversation.  And those are just the things that trouble me off the top of my head.

As the linked article suggests, they and all the other little micro-terrorisms are all fences.  And I’m starting to resent them.  Greatly.

Hate Speech

…or as it used to be called in the Gude Ole Daze, invective, seems to have been cowed by Political Correctness because Feewings are more important than truth, or even humor.  Take this little passage from Taki’s Magazine, for instance, in describing the travails of CanuckiPM Zoolander:

As the telegenic fist-puppet of the global elite, Justin Trudeau does everything his string-pullers tell him to do: He pretends that Muslims are human, that trannies are women, that white people need to be eliminated, and that women never lie about rape.
Earlier this year, Trudeau threw his support behind the castration-crazy witch hunt known as #MeToo, a vanity project in which women receive love, cash, interview requests, and the sweet taste of revenge by boasting that they were sexually assaulted by powerful men. He called it “a movement whose time has come”:

“Sexual harassment is a systemic problem. It is unacceptable. When women speak up, it is our duty to listen to them and to believe them.”

Yeah, that’s going to be problematic for the boyish man whom many suspect is the bastard love child of Fidel Castro and Trudeau’s schlong-gobbling whore of a mother.

There’s so much fine invective here, it’s difficult to know where to start:  hell, the “telegenic fist-puppet” quip alone is worth the price of admission.  But it’s the description of Margaret Trudeau where the Invective Parade gets the brass band going, and I howled with laughter when I read it.

Lest anyone think that part’s libelous, I should point out that La Margaret’s lack of morals was not only well-known but documented, having had affairs with, by her own admission, more than one of the Rolling Stones during one of their tours of The Great White Space, as well as with other famous people.  And the affection towards Commie politicians shown by Her Groupieness makes the “love child” barb not only possible, but highly likely.  And let’s be honest:  she “let it all hang out” (literally) on more than one occasion:

Read more

Reaping The Whirlwind

I am always irritated when women don’t want men to treat them with chivalry because “we’re maintaining the patriarchy” or some such bullshit.  You know what I’m talking about:  “I’m quite capable of opening the door myself!” and so on.

I’m similarly irritated by stupid laws which seem to take the side of criminals — such as when a thug is injured while being prevented from causing mayhem, and the person who injured him is treated as  a criminal by the police.

Here’s what happens when you have a confluence of the above two circumstances:

A fashion executive attacked by an unwell 6ft man on a busy Tube carriage has slammed two men who moved seats and left her to defend herself.
Tamara Cincik was kicked and threatened while travelling to a business meeting in central London yesterday.
The mother-of-one told MailOnline, children were crying as the agitated man squared up to her and started violently attacking her in the middle of the carriage.

The fashion CEO is keen to stress she does not blame this man, who she believes needs medical help but said the incident was ‘terrifying’.
Instead she is upset that two men she describes as ‘white and middle class’ chose not to help and moved to another carriage.
‘I remain more angry with those white middle class men who left me to it. As fathers, husbands and sons they should be ashamed of themselves.’ 

But, but, but… you’re a career grrrl, a successful woman and (I bet) a feminist.  Why should you have to rely on a man to help you?  “Oh help me, white knight!” when you’ve probably bought into the whole “men are pigs” and “patriarchy” narrative?

Why should anyone help you?  The two (British) men certainly didn’t:  they didn’t want to get involved because they were frightened — frightened by the crazy guy, and probably indoctrinated against doing anything themselves, and leaving it to the authorities to handle the situation.  Except, of course, that there was no authority figure to run to.  If one of the Brit men had found some balls and beaten the crap out of the crazy guy, he’d probably have been arrested and be facing charges right now.

Well, somebody did come to this woman’s assistance in the end — only he wasn’t a Brit, he was from a culture more old-fashioned than that:

‘An Eastern European man who had seen the guy on the platform had worked his way down the train as he felt that man was dangerous and he got to me when the train stopped.’

This is what happens when government and the culture degrades and infantilizes men.  And you know what?  I’m not surprised, and nor should anyone be.

Offensive Names

Here’s a headline which stopped me in my tracks:

Princess Michael of Kent IS still expected to attend Prince Harry and Meghan’s wedding – following controversial claims she named her two black sheep Venus and Serena

Here’s my question, and it has nothing to do with wedding invitations: are Venus and Serena Williams Black? If so, who could possibly object to someone naming their (black) pets after two well-known Black athletes?

The latter question is rhetorical, or rather, it should be. The sad fact is that in today’s hyper-sensitive world, the simple act of naming one’s pet after someone may be sufficient cause for social ostracism. I could perhaps understand the opprobrium if said Princess had called her two black sheep “Nigger” and “Jigaboo” because Black people seem intent on giving other people the power to offend them by using outdated epithets — but this wasn’t the case, here.

In the interests of full disclosure, I should point out that I once owned a pitch-black cat whom I named “Othello”, and another cat whom I named “Rhona Barrett” because she had a big nose and, duh, the names were appropriate. I also had a snow-white cat named “Pig-Pen” because he was always rolling in the dirt and looked scruffy, and once had two ginger cats named “Rusty” and “Ginger” — and in today’s world, if I’d named them “Harry” and “Carrot-Top” I’d probably be accused of a hate crime towards redheads. I’ve never owned a Siamese cat, but if I did and called him “Chop Suey” or something like that, no doubt there’d be calls for my crucifixion (despite my atheism).

And returning to the Princess above: I can think of many words to describe the Williams sisters, but I have to say that “sheep-like” is not one of them. To anyone who’s ever watched them demolish their hapless opponents on the tennis court, “wolf-like” would be more appropriate — unless by making a lupine allusion, I’d be guilty of denigrating their femininity somehow.

Do you see how stupid this all is? And FFS: can’t we all just lighten up a little?

I’m unlikely ever to own a pet again; but if I do, I’m almost certainly going to name it something offensive, just because. Animal types and suggested names in Comments, please. (The more offensive, the better.)