Taking A Stand

Now here’s a place I’d like to visit the next time I go Over There, because the owner seems to have the Right Stuff.

A pub boss has called last orders on customers in sportswear in a bid to drive out ‘chavs and roadmen with bumbags’ from his watering hole.
Landlord Brian Hoyle, who runs The Orange Tree in Hereford, has put a blanket ban on customers wearing hoodies, tracksuits and Stone Island clothing in his pub.
He is also barring under 21’s from the city centre pub at weekends due to youngsters being ‘unable to handle their booze’.

Needless to say, his dress code and age limit have aroused the anger of The Usual Suspects:

But the ban, which Hoyle says is aimed at making his watering hole a ‘proper’ Hereford pub again, has proved controversial among residents in the cathedral city.
Some of the residents have accused the policy of being ‘discriminatory’.

You see, this is what happens when you start ascribing motives to an ordinary word, used in its original (and correct) sense for centuries.

Let me say right now:  there’s nothing wrong with being discriminatory:  it’s a human trait that distinguishes civilized men from savages and animals, and helps us provide order in our world.

Sadly, of course, “discrimination” these days is used almost exclusively to demonize racial discrimination, which is not necessarily a Good Thing when applied purely as a measurement of skin color.  But historically, that is actually the least of the word’s many applications.  Here are a couple more.

When I say, for example, that I loathe “American” cheese (that orange paste stuff) and prefer to eat Jarlsberg, Cheddar or Emmenthaler, I am showing that I have a discriminating taste — just as is someone who would prefer to own and shoot a Colt Government over a Jennings Saturday Night Special, or prefers to own good knives made by Ken Onion over cheap brittle stuff made in China.  Nothing wrong with that.  Experience has taught you that stuff of inferior quality is not worth ownership or use.

When you prefer to invite people of your own sort to dinner parties, you’re being discriminating in your choice of friends — and once again, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So of course, our worthy publican in the above story is setting his preferences — because over many years and much experience, he had discovered that people who dress a certain way and/or of a certain age tend to abuse his hospitality, so he wants to preclude them from coming in and, let it be known, spoiling things for people with manners, respect and proper attire.

Somebody needs to put an end to the loutish, boorish behavior of the younger generation, and he’s chosen to make a stand.

And good for him, say I.  If I were in his shoes, I would do precisely the same.

Serious Stuff

This is the best socio-political essay of the past 50 years, because it describes irrefutably what has happened to our so-called leaders (he calls them the Permanent Managerial Class, or PMC) as Afghanistan has reverted to a Muslim emirate.

It’s not too long — and even if it is, it will be the best time you’ve spent all day, perhaps all year.  It’s impossible to summarize (like all good essays), but here’s my favorite part:

How long it will take for their institutions to disappear, or before they end up toppled by popular discontent and revolution, no one can know. But at this point, I think most people on some level now understand that it really is only a matter of time.

Go there now, and read all of it.  I’ve read it three times.  (Thankee, Insty)

Not Aintree

We are all familiar with Train Smash Women Central (i.e. Liverpool’s racetrack for the Grand National — just search this site for “Aintree”), so it comes with some relief (mixed with regret) that Royal Ascot seems to have been wonderfully devoid of such creatures this year.  Some examples:

   

Here’s the always-lovely Charlotte Hawkins:

…although of course, while exquisitely dressed, she had That Thing on her head — and there were likewise more than a few examples of regrettable millinery:

 

 

Which leads me to the rather cruel conclusion that the only upside to the Covid face-diaper is that it spares us from the sight of British Teeth.

Oh, and while looking admittedly dapper, comedian / musician Bill Bailey still holds the title of “He Who Is More In Need Of A Haircut Than Any White Man In The Entire World”.

Go there and see for yourself.

Amazing Coincidence

First, Iran’s largest ship mysteriously catches fire and is destroyed, and then a large oil refinery near Teheran mysteriously catches fire.

[T]he head of the company in charge of the refinery reportedly told Iranian state TV the possibility of sabotage had been ruled out.

He put it down to a “technical” issue. No doubt, the same technical issue which blew up their frigate.  And yeah, rather admit to a technical issue than saying it was sabotage.

If I were a paranoid Iranian mullah, however, I’d suspect that the Izzies have been up to their old tricks.

We’ll know that’s the case when President Braindead or his lickspittle State Department condemns the “accidents” for no apparent reason.

WOW

I only hope that this is true.

While it sounds like the stuff of science fiction, a cancer treatment in which a patient’s own cells are engineered to hunt down and wipe out their disease — and then linger in the body to stop the cancer returning — is helping to save patients’ lives.
The results of the treatment, known as CAR T-cell therapy, have been astonishing.
Patients who had exhausted all other options and been told they had just months to live have gone into remission. Others have even been cured by the one-off dose.

As someone who has been touched — twice* — by cancer, you have no idea how big this is to me.

Keep it going, guys.


*Imaginary Wife (Connie) died of ovarian cancer, and New Wife is a survivor of endometrial cancer.