Hatin’ On Them People

Wow.  How about this for a headline?

Keynote speaker at Bob Jones University diversity conference says Muslims should be ‘locked up’

Just kidding.  Here’s the actual headline:

Keynote speaker at Harvard diversity conference says Christians should be ‘locked up’

Read the rest, if you feel like it.  Then load up yer favorite gun and a couple hundred rounds of ammo, and head out to the range.  That’s what I’m going to do, later.

Fuck ’em.

Perils Of Uniqueness

At his recent wedding, Idris Elba is reported to have said, “There’s no point in trying to fit in when you were born to stand out.”  And while that’s true, there’s also that Australian(?) saying that “The tall flower will always be the first to be cropped.”

In rants passim, I’ve railed against the follies of architectural folly, wherein the ego of the architect takes over the aesthetic sensibilities of the building, making it a tall flower in the neighborhood.  Making the building an extremely personal statement, therefore, is all very well, as long as you acknowledge the fact that your taste isn’t for everybody — with all its concomitant perils.  Here’s an example:

The asking price of a property that appeared on TV’s Grand Designs has been slashed by almost £1million in just six months.
The owners Bram and Lisa Vis have taken the drastic step after the ultra-modern property with six bedrooms failed to sell.
The huge 7,200 square foot house is set within 2.2 acres of land with an additional 3.8 acres of private beach, along with a heated swimming pool and a jacuzzi.
The luxury home on the Isle of Wight was completed in 2014, and featured on Channel 4’s Grand Designs the following year.

The key word is this: “ultra-modern”.  Here are a couple-three pics:

Because of all this, and despite having matchless coastal views:

And despite having had nationwide, even worldwide exposure on TV, we have this unfortunate outcome:

The significant reduction has seen the asking price drop from £3.95million in autumn last year to £2.99million today and means the couple are selling the property for less than the project cost to complete.

I have to admit, even if I had the money, there is no way I would even consider this modernist carbuncle — and clearly I am not alone in this judgement, hence the lack of interest in the market.  Furthermore, there’s a life lesson to be learned from this sorry tale.

Go ahead and indulge your ego by all means.  Just be aware that “standing out” (especially in the extreme, as in the above house’s style) may not always result in a favorable outcome.

Down The Toilet

Every so often I get a Red Curtain Of Blood (RCOB) descending over my eyes that is so massive and so intense that I frighten small AND large children.  Well, it’s a damn good thing that there were no children around when I read this  little suggestion:

Janet Street-Porter argues that Notre-Dame shouldn’t be rebuilt… – and that the money should go to ‘more worthy causes’

And what, exactly, are these “worthy causes” of which she speaks?  You know  what they are, but let her tell you herself:

‘If you go less than 10 miles to the suburbs in Paris, large parts – they’ve had some money poured into them but it’s a problem the government can’t solve.
‘People are living in poverty, illegally, there’s drug dealing, gang warfare, and parts of Paris that the police won’t go to.
‘So where are these billionaires, why aren’t they coughing up for that? What about all the poor people in Calais? Where’s all the money to help them?’

Right there is the liberal mindset.   After admitting that Gummint has poured money — not “some”, by the way, but countless millions — and the problem is still insoluble, Our Girl Janet wants wealthy individuals to pour still MOAR MONEY (their own money, duh) into the festering garbage dumps at Calais and the banlieus  surrounding Paris, despite the repeated failure of state money to solve the problems.

Trotskyist bitch.  Take from the rich, and pour it down a shithole, just so you  can feel better that Something Has Been Done.  Marxism in a nutshell:  intentions are more important than outcomes.

And by the way, Janet, you rancid old tart, it’s not about the money, nor even about the French:  it’s about a priceless part of Western heritage and culture (I know, all the stuff that Marxists hate).  And the truth of my statement is that it’s not only the French who visit Notre-Dame Cathedral in their millions each year, but people from all over the world.  Good grief, when I was there a few years ago, I never heard a single word of French spoken among the teeming crowds who were braving a bitterly cold and rainy day to visit the place.

And good for the French billionaires who’ve stepped up to the (collection) plate and pledged hundreds of millions of dollars towards the rebuild.  Civic spirit, generosity, and respect for a nation’s heritage and culture are always to be commended

Lastly, I should also point out that were it not for France’s iniquitous and punitive income- and wealth taxes, said billionaires would have been able to give even more  of their own money towards the project.  But let’s not quibble about a few hundred million here or there, right?

Another RCOB?

Oh, why not:

Conservative French politicians expressed concern Thursday about the prospect of modern architecture being added to Notre-Dame cathedral after the government invited design proposals for a new roof and spire.
Politicians from France’s right-wing Republicans and far-right National Rally (RN) party called on the government to restore the cathedral exactly as it was before the devastating fire broke out on Monday evening.
French President Emmanuel Macron has set a five-year target for the reconstruction to be completed and has said ‘an element of modern architecture could be imagined.’

Of course  it could be imagined… in FrogPres Macron’s own tiny little Tranzi-modernist brain.  Amongst normal-thinking people, however, it would be a disgusting insult.

Towards the end of the linked article, there’s this thought:

One of the most controversial additions to Paris in recent times was the glass pyramid built in front of the Louvre palace in central Paris.
Hated by many Parisians when it was unveiled by Chinese-American architect I. M. Pei, it has celebrated its 30th birthday and has become an attraction in its own right.

I remember standing outside the Louvre in (I think) 2005, chatting to an older French man who’d stepped outside for a cigarette.  I pointed at the pyramid and asked him what he and his friends thought of it.  He snorted.

“I tell you, mon ami,” he said, “if those Arab terrorists had flown an airliner into this  foul thing [cette chose répugnante], in France they would have been considered heroes and not terrorists.”

Here’s another take.

And from Michael Brendan Dougherty comes this exquisite sentiment:

“I promise right now. If you try to rebuild it as a ‘secular’ Notre Dame, reflecting the political priorities of 2019, I will do my damndest to see that the next fire takes it all down. I won’t come alone.”

Sign me up, Mike.

And Another Institution Burns To The Ground

Hardly had the smoke dissipated from the Notre Dame fire when this catastrophe befell us:

Classical masterpieces, orchestral prowess and sense of occasion have come to define the Proms over the years.
But purists may raise an eyebrow this time around – as the BBC plan to feature hip hop and break dancing.
This year, the concert series will include ‘The Breaks’ – a prom designed to ‘honour the global phenomenon of hip hop and breakbeat culture’. The concert – on September 6 – is likely to spark criticism from traditionalists.
But yesterday, Proms director David Pickard insisted the time was ripe for it as the divisions between musical genres are ‘being broken down’.
He said: ‘I think the Proms needs to reflect what is happening to music in 2019. DJing and concertos for turntables are now part of the classical world.’ But he warned the BBC would not ‘necessarily’ edit foul language if it is there in ‘a good artistic context’.

As an exercise in “artistic context”, I’d like to tie this little modernist milquetoast to a chair and beat him with heavy chains.

FFS, we don’t need more exposure to modern music — it assails our ears in shops, restaurants, malls, from passing teenagers’ inadequate headphones as they walk by us in the street, and from stereo speakers more valuable than the cars which encase them as they stand next to us at the traffic light.  And it is not repeat NOT “part of the classical world”, unless your idea of “classical” includes lyrics which refer to women as bitches and whores in every other line, and four times during the chorus.  It’s fucking jungle music — all beat and little melody — and if someone takes offense at the word “jungle”, I invite you to visit any part of the African wilderness and listen to the kind of music that is performed there, and explain to me the difference.  And now this swill is going to be featured at the Proms… and isn’t that  special?

What the Proms used to give the public was exposure to some of the greatest music ever created, music of exquisite beauty, unparalleled technical expertise and sophistication born of an unmatched cultural heritage — and boy, are we ever in need of more of that, these days.  Instead, we’re going to hear “songs” from some asswipe called N’Jiggy featuring overpowering bass, over-loud drums and underwhelming artistic value other than (you heard it here first) a few “sampled” fragments of Beethoven’s Ninth scatted around like diamonds in a pigsty.

Fuck that, I’m going to the range.  I may or may not affix a picture of David Pickard to the target.

What’s In A Name?

It’s a good thing that the Bard is no longer with us, or else his question might instead read:  “WTF is it with all these stupid names?” 

I’m not just talking about nicknames, where anything goes (e.g. Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino from Jersey Shores  — note:  unless you’re in the Mafia, the word “The” in your name is an infallible indicator of douchebaggery, see below).  Mostly, they’re a play on names — “Elizabeth” becomes “Biffy” and “Edward” becomes “Ned” — or else, in the case of men, they’re affectionate insults:  Booger, Shitbrain, Nostrils, Hairball etc.

First names, especially in the Afro-American community, seem to be in a tacit competition for grotesquery — Jamarcus, Al’iyaa, D’Ante, Shaniquita etc. — but even amongst the Lily-Whites, things have been getting out of hand.  Try to see how many variations you find, just in the ancient and beautiful name “Brittany”, for example;  I ran out of inspiration at six, after — I swear — “Bryttenee”.  (Rough guess is that neither of her parents are in possession of a PhD.)

The latest seems to be inside the rapper fraternity (not the brightest bulbs in the make-up mirror to begin with) who have names like Offset, The Weeknd [sic], 50 Cent and (my favorite name) 6ix9ine, and more.

In the old days — say, in the 1970s — first names actually meant something.  Girls were named after flowers (Rose, Daisy, Alison, Lily etc.), for example, and old names actually had a heritage (“Gwendolyn” means “beloved”).  My own name, Kim, was not even a name, but a title  (“Chieftain” in early Anglo-Saxon) which is why it can apply to both men and women.

These new naming “conventions” (if one could call them that) drive me scatty — literally, I sometimes feel like flinging poo off the balcony at random passersby — because they seem to be just random groupings of letters out of a Scrabble set;  but at the same time, I’m not suggesting some kind of control over name selection.  Just remember that it took the French until the 1970s to drop their restriction on first names — you could have any first name you wanted, provided that it was on the State-approved list of first names — and I’m certainly not supporting that silliness.

Know, however, that naming your little precious Tre’esha Taniqua will have an effect on her future career prospects.  And if all she knows is Ebonics, the “glass ceiling” will turn to concrete unless she becomes a groupie in 6ix9ine’s retinue.  Not that I care.  Someone  has to do that kind of work.