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:

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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.)