Dire Consequences

…in this case, what happens when you elect a Socialist asshole vegan from New Jersey [some overlap]  to Congress:

Sen. Cory Booker said in an interview published Tuesday that the continuation of meat-eating will destroy the planet.

“We will destroy our planet unless we start figuring out a better way forward when it comes to our climate change and our environment,” he added.
Despite his apocalyptic claims, Mr. Booker cautioned that he doesn’t want to ban meat-eating or even preach to people.

Of course  you don’t, you lying fuckwit.  You’re a Socialist:  your kind has a collective orgasm by banning stuff and preaching to people because — wait for it — you know better than we do what’s good for us (and in this case, the planet).  And vegans are even worse.

Go choke on a celery stick, Spartacus, and the sooner the better.

Bite Me

I hit a link at some website, and encountered this:

Simple response:  Never mind “No thanks” — it’s “fuck off and die” , because I don’t pay for bullshit.  I last went to the National Review Online website independently (as opposed to following a link) back in, I think, 2009 (before they fired the brilliant John Derbyshire).  They’re a bunch of pantywaist wannabe-conservative NeverTrumpers, and with the possible exception of the late Charles Krauthammer, I wouldn’t shake hands with any of them if I were being paid to do so.  William F. Buckley would have thrown the lot of them out in the 1970s, when NR was a magazine worth reading.  At least the magazine had a little edge when Ann Coulter and John Derbyshire were staff writers, but with their firings, NRO soon turned into a soggy vanilla pudding laced with diarrhea.

The poxy fucking rag needs to fold up its tents and disappear, and the sooner the better.

I’m Special

If there’s anything that’s guaranteed to piss me off (other than all legislation proposed by socialists), it’s when some asswipe thinks that rules don’t apply to them because, well… because.

I’m not talking about regulations or laws, by the way;  I’m talking about rules of an establishment, or of a gathering:  that sort.  Nothing pisses me off much more than when a restaurant has a dress code, and some dickhead arrives in a t-short and shorts demanding to be seated — and nothing cheers me more than when he is told by said restaurant’s management to fuck off (politely or, preferably, rudely).

Here’s a case in point:

A bride was faced with the awkward task of asking guests to leave her wedding after they brought their children along — even though she had explicitly warned that it was a child-free event in the invitation.
The anonymous woman posted her story on Reddit this week, recalling the drama that unfolded when a family friend and her husband brought their unwelcome toddler and infant to her big day.
Though she tried to handle it tactfully, the exchange soon grew heated and she asked the couple to leave — a decision that thousands of Redditors have now defended, telling her she was well within her rights.

Of course she was.  I wonder what makes someone think, when they see on the invitation that children are not welcome, that “Oh well… I’m going to take my kids anyway!”

What did they think would happen?

And then, when asked to leave, “the exchange soon grew heated” ?  So now you get all aggro when confronted about your appalling lack of manners?

Here’s another one:

A mother has come under scrutiny after a video of her raging at a dog handler for not allowing her daughter to pet a service dog went viral.
In the altercation filmed on December 19, Megan Stoff was with a golden retriever, Nala, in a busy Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania shopping mall, when a mother and her young daughter approached them.
Asking if her daughter could pet the working pooch, Megan and a co-worker told the mother ‘no’, as petting a service dog can interfere with its training.
Allegedly, just minutes later, after walking away the woman returned in a rage and began shouting at Megan and her co-workers.
The mother says: ‘That was definitely very rude how she talked to me.
‘Firstly you should have a sign [saying not to touch the dog], and secondly she should not have said “no”, she could’ve said “sorry the dog is in training”, that would’ve been nicer.’
Megan tells the woman to walk away, and points out Nala’s vest has the words ‘Please do not pet me I’m working’ written on both sides of it, along with ‘Do not touch’ and ‘Do not pet’.
She adds that it’s illegal to ‘harass a service dog’.
Expressing her contempt at the manner in which she was told ‘no’, the mother soon realizes she’s being filmed and tensions escalate further when she threatens to call her lawyer.

Once again:  despite a clearly-posted rule, some asshole decides that the rules don’t apply to her — and then, when the transgression (and lack of manners) is pointed out to her, she loses her shit.

All because her lickle itty-bitty kiddie wasn’t allowed to pet a dog.  And don’t get me started on the calling-in-the-lawyers part.  Were I the dog trainer and been threatened with lawyers, I’d have called in the cops and had the bitch arrested — and pressed charges — because, duh, it’s illegal to interfere with a service dog, and the silly woman should be called on her idiocy and lack of manners.

There was a custom back in my favorite era (VIctorian / Edwardian times) when a lack of manners would occasion being thrashed with a riding-crop or cane, in public, by the person being offended.  Along with so many other institutions of the time, I want to see this one brought back.

As I Said

Longtime Readers will know of my loathing for modernist architecture — the squared-off, ugly and unfriendly style which resembles nothing as much as large cubes of concrete stacked on top of each other.  Specifically, my ire has been directed towards the brutalist works of Swiss designer Le Corbusier who, if there is any justice in the world, is spending eternity revolving slowly on a spit in a room where the temperature has been set to “Broil”.

But lest anyone think I’m just being petulant about this asshole, allow me to point you to an older article by Theodore Dalrymple, who lays out Le Corbusier’s works and his philosophy about society.  Here’s an excerpt:

I spoke of the horrors of Le Corbusier’s favorite material, reinforced concrete, which does not age gracefully but instead crumbles, stains, and decays. A single one of his buildings, or one inspired by him, could ruin the harmony of an entire townscape, I insisted. A Corbusian building is incompatible with anything except itself.


Le Corbusier wanted architecture to be the same the world over because he believed that there was a “correct” way to build and that only he knew what it was.

A terminal inhumanity—what one might almost call “ahumanity”—characterizes Le Corbusier’s thought and writing, notwithstanding his declarations of fraternity with mankind. This manifests itself in several ways, including in his thousands of architectural photos and drawings, in which it is rare indeed that a human figure ever appears, and then always as a kind of distant ant, unfortunately spoiling an otherwise immaculate, Platonic townscape. Thanks to his high-rise buildings, Le Corbusier says, 95 percent of the city surface shall become parkland—and he then shows a picture of a wooded park without a single human figure present. Presumably, the humans will be where they should be, out of sight and out of mind (the architect’s mind, anyway), in their machines for living in (as he so charmingly termed houses), sitting on machines for sitting on (as he defined chairs).
This ahumanity explains Le Corbusier’s often-expressed hatred of streets and love of roads. Roads were impressive thoroughfares for rushing along at the highest possible speed (he had an obsession with fast cars and airplanes), which therefore had a defined purpose and gave rise to no disorderly human interactions. The street, by contrast, was unpredictable, incalculable, and deeply social. Le Corbusier wanted to be to the city what pasteurization is to cheese.

The only possible reaction to this monstrous philosophy should be horror.  That is hasn’t been, and instead has fostered a long line of copycat architects and town planners, is the reason Le Corbusier should be roasting.

Earlier on, Dalrymple compares Le Corbusier to Lenin in his malevolence towards humanity in general;  I would say that while Lenin killed more actual people, Le Corbusier has  destroyed the souls of more cities and the spirits of the people who live and work in them.

It says much about UNESCO that seventeen of his buildings have been designated World Heritage Sites by that foul organization.  Here’s one, by way of illustration:

Pass me the dynamite, Sheldon.

And speaking of dynamite, I should save a little for the Huffington Post  if for no other reason than because of their breathless lionization of this monster.  Not that anyone should ever read anything in HuffPo, but should you want to see more architectural monstrosities, said article contains lots of examples of his work, all of which should make you recoil in horror.  I couldn’t bear to publish more than one;  they’re not so discriminating, the poxy little Marxists.  Huffpo marvels at Le Corbusier’s influence on the modern world;  so do I, but I regard it more in the same perspective as that of the Black Plague on the medieval period.


Somebody note the date:  I agree almost completely with The Atlantic magazine, at least as far as this article is concerned (thankee, Insty), and I urge you to read it all, if you have the time:

Restaurants are so loud because architects don’t design them to be quiet.  Much of this shift in design boils down to changing conceptions of what makes a space seem upscale or luxurious, as well as evolving trends in food service.  Right now, high-end surfaces connote luxury, such as the slate and wood of restaurants including The Osprey in Brooklyn or Atomix in Manhattan.
This trend is not limited to New York.  According to Architectural Digest, mid-century modern and minimalism are both here to stay.  That means sparse, modern decor;  high, exposed ceilings; and almost no soft goods, such as curtains, upholstery, or carpets.  These [minimalist] design features are a feast for the eyes, but a nightmare for the ears.  No soft goods and tall ceilings mean nothing is absorbing sound energy, and a room full of hard surfaces serves as a big sonic mirror, reflecting sound around the room.

Now add over-loud “background” music to the clamor as well as noisy patronss (Americans are a loud-spoken bunch at the best of times), and it’s enough to make me order soup just so I can drink it through a straw while holding my hands over my ears.

I’ve bitched about this trend in the past, but mostly to complain about the music selection (tinny pop pablum or bass-heavy rap/R&B).  But last week I had breakfast with Doc Russia in some new (and overpriced) breakfast place, and in a room which contained maybe six paying customers (out of over fifty seats), the noise was so bad (hard surfaces plus loud music) that I longed for my shooting lids.

Come to think of it, I think I’ll start carrying my ear protection with me when I go out from now on, and put them on if the place is too noisy.  My lids are noise-sensitive (with the little volume adjustment thingies on the side) so they are perfectly adequate for conversation.  I will, however, shout loudly at the waiter when ordering my food;  what the fuck, the restaurant clearly doesn’t mind excessive noise, right?

I’m sounding a little flippant about this, but I’m not joking at all.  As it is, my tinnitus makes hearing occasionally difficult, but impossibly-so in a loud environment.

Don’t get me started on “mid-century modern and minimalism; sparse, modern decor; high, exposed ceilings; stainless-steel tabletops, slate-tile floors, and exposed ductwork; and sparse and sleek [decor], with hardwood floors and colorful Danish chairs with tapered legs seated beside long, light-colored wood tables”.  A less inviting scenario for a meal I can’t even begin to imagine.  And please:  don’t give me that crap about how hard surfaces are easier to clean and to keep clean:  that’s putting the needs of the business ahead of those of its customers, which mistake should cause the business to fail quickly — but sadly, that doesn’t seem to be the case here, I suspect because we’ve just become accustomed to the clamor.

The article has it right:

The result is a loud space that renders speech unintelligible.  Now that it’s so commonplace, the din of a loud restaurant is unavoidable.  That’s bad for your health—and worse for the staff who works there.  But it also degrades the thing that eating out is meant to [engender]:  a shared social experience that rejuvenates, rather than harms, its participants.

Considering that I go out to eat with friends or family where the primary motivation is social — conversation and companionship — and the food (no matter how fine) a distant second, it should come as no surprise that over time, I have become less and less likely to eat out.

In fact, strike the above thought about taking hearing protection when going out.  In future, I’ll walk into the restaurant and if the clamor is overpowering, I’ll just tell the restaurateur:   “Sorry, but your place is too noisy.  I’m going somewhere quieter.”  And please note that I’m not talking about a restaurant full of people having a good time:  that’s a different situation altogether.  But if the place is noisy because everyone has to scream to make themselves heard over the cacophonous ambiance, then it’s elsewhere I’ll be going.

If enough people follow my example, then maybe — just maybe — we can reverse this bullshit trend whereby function doesn’t just follow form;  it throws it to the floor and suffocates it, noisily.

And by the way:  fuck “mid-century” and “minimalism”.

Censors And Their Censoring Ways

Aaaaaargh FFS I’m just about to explode with rage over here.  Why?  Because the Language Police are out in force, trying to circumscribe my speech yet again, but this time from another direction.

It’s bad enough that I can’t say the words “snigger” or “blackball” without some fucking snowflake or race hustler getting triggered and calling me Worse Than Hitler — we’re all familiar with that form of PC regulation.

Guess who’s next?

Here’s the list of ‘helpful’ suggestions from PETA for teachers to use with their pupils instead of the current ‘harmful’ phrases. It recommends:

  • ‘Let the cat out of the bag’ is changed to ‘Spill the beans’
  • ‘Be a guinea pig’ to ‘Be the test tube’
  • ‘Hold your horses’ to ‘Hold the phone’
  • ‘Open a can of worms’ to ‘Open Pandora’s box’
  • ‘Bring home the bacon’ to ‘Bring home the bagels’
  • ‘Put all your eggs in one basket’ to ‘Put all your berries in one bowl’
  • ‘Kill two birds with one stone’ to ‘Feed two birds with one scone’
  • ‘Take the bull by the horns’ to ‘Take the flower by the thorns’
  • ‘Flog a dead horse’ to ‘Feed a fed horse’
  • ‘More than one way to skin a cat’ to More than one way to peel a potato’

Now the fucking vegans have to get involved in language?  Great Caesar’s bleeding hemorrhoids, isn’t there any  part of my life which can escape the censure of these bastard busybodies?

[deep breath]

I think the best thing I can do (apart from some activity involving an AK-47 and a few Molotov cocktails) is to offer up some suggestions which escaped the above list, but that we may use just to antagonize these pricks a little further:

  • Bleeding the lizard (male urination)
  • Choking the chicken (male masturbation)
  • Spearing the bearded clam (shagging)
  • Harpooning a whale (fucking a fat chick — a twofer, because body-shaming)
  • Bonking a buffalo (ditto)
  • Poking a panther (fucking a Black chick)
  • Tonguing the trout (cunnilingus)
  • Eating an eel (fellatio)
  • Playing with the puppies (fondling a woman’s breasts)
  • …and all the expressions involving the word “pussy”, e.g. pussyfooting.

If anyone has any other suggestions, go at it in Comments.  I’m too angry to think.

No I’m not:  I think I’ll go and roast me a leg of lamb for dinner.

Here’s the source:

In fact, this may be our best revenge on these gastronomic Puritans:  every time you read something about vegans that pisses you off, make yourself a meat dish for dinner.  Or go completely overboard at lunchtime:

*I should point out that “Open Pandora’s box”  is probably offensive to some feministicals because of its quasi-sexual connotation, but I’ll let them fight it out with the vegans, preferably with nuclear weapons so we can have a little mutually-assured destruction.

Okay, that thought put a smile back on my face.