Character

I always enjoy reading Theodore Dalrymple’s articles, and this one at Taki’s Mag is no exception because as he takes on the topic of modern architects and their pulchriphobia (fear of beauty), he drops little diamonds like this into the discussion:

Taste is very revelatory of character, and though we live in an age in which we delight to talk of ourselves, in fact we do so while carefully protecting ourselves from true self-revelation or true self-examination.

Longtime Readers will know that while this may be true of a lot of people, there’s a distinct lack of that nonsense in this little corner of the Internet — most especially when it comes to discussions of architecture, or guns, or cars, or women, or practically anything which can be beautiful or made beautifully.

Pulchriphilia is more the order of the day, here.  How could it be otherwise when I marvel at things like this:

or this:

or this:

or (wrenching myself unwillingly away from further contemplation of Suzanne Pleshette) this:

…or, to return to the article’s original topic, buildings such as this:

Going along with Dalrymple’s quote above, I am quite aware that my classification of all the above as “beautiful” may reveal aspects of my character, and to be honest, I don’t care a fig.  I am what I am, it is what it is, and each of the above is a perfect example of the eponymous poem by John Keats:

A THING OF BEAUTY is a joy forever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
’Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

Having pulchriphobia means denying the spirit that endless fountain, and we are much the poorer for its loss.  Here’s Keats’s musk-rose:

Pause a while and smell it, while listening to this.

First They Came For The Airline Stewardesses

Back in the day when airline flying meant a chance to ogle some beautiful young women in uniform, they were called “stewardesses” or “stews”.  Often, the airlines enforced a “no married women” and even an age limit policy for the stews because, the reasoning went, if the stews had families, they’d be affected by the absense of Mommy while she’d be out of town so often.  So We The Passengers had to put up with stuff like this:

 

Then some asswipe in Big Airline HR decided that this was eeeevil  and anti-womyns  or something, with the result that nowadays, international flights resemble Grab-A-Granny Night at TGI Friday, or Open Bar Night at The Villages.  (No pics, I can’t bear the thought.)

Then last year, Sports Illustrated  took some shit because, and I quote:

“…the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue  doesn’t care about plus-sized women, athletes, or religious models. It cares about staying relevant while also profiting off men buying a magazine to drool over hot women. These silly claims of empowerment through the swimsuit issue cannot change the fact that pages of sexualized women marketed toward men are inherently sexist, insulting, and gross.”

(I even talked about it here.)

Needless to say, the stupids at Sports Illustrated  decided to make their crap magazine yet more crappy, by taking the above criticism to heart for this year’s T&A issue, hence this appalling prospect:

Wait till you see the “plus-sized” (i.e. grossly overweight) entrant… it’ll put you off chocolate cake for life.  (By the way, the granny in the above pic is quite hot, IMO, but if yer gonna put some granny-aged totty in a bikini, why not someone like Sharon Stone, or Stephanie Seymour?)

This modern attitude towards women’s bodies is starting to get to me.  As are the Woke Generation, in toto.

Non Decorum Est

Apparently, the issue of a “dress code” or “decorous clothing” seems to have gone bye-bye in, of all places, Britishland (and to be specific, in Parliament).  Witness this outfit chosen by a Labour MP (of course) to deliver a speech in the House of Commons:

Needless to say, the response from the BritPublic was not complimentary, prompting this classless Trot to respond in kind:

I know, I know, dear Tracy;  perhaps you weren’t any of those things — it just looked  like you were all  of them.  Of course, you were an actress once, which pretty much explains everything.

And just so we’re all clear on the implications of this:  had Boris Johnson not won the last General Election, this harridan would now be a member of the Prime Minister’s Cabinet.

Day For Night

Oh FFS, here we go again:

Bosses at Warner Bros. are allegedly considering taking on a female actress to play the role of the iconic chocolatier, after two previous adaptations starred Johnny Depp and Gene Wilder.

Is any male role safe anymore?  Dr. Who, James Bond’s “M”, Ghostbusters and countless other male roles have recently grown tits and vaginas — I mean, Jane  Bond was even considered a while ago.  (“I’d like a strawberry vodkapop… stirred, not shaken.”)

I really want some brave producer (I know, I know) to propose a movie project entitled “John Of Arc” :  the story of a humble French shepherd boy who gets a message from God, becomes a fearless military leader and rallies an army to defeat an English occupation force.  Then he’s captured and burned at the stake.

Nah, that’s just too far-fetched.  Might as well just cast a chick for the role, to get the green light.  Of course, the movie will bomb spectacularly and lose money — but who cares, as long as Teh Womynz get the gig?

Fucking bullshit.

Asking For It

Here we go again:

A Belgian sports journalist has sparked fury after making a crude comment about a young reporter’s top on Twitter. Sven Spoormakers posted a picture of Belén Mendiguren interviewing cyclists during a race in Argentina, adding the caption: ‘Is it cold in Argentina?’.
The comment prompted a backlash from fellow journalists who took aim at the Belgian for ‘objectifying’ the young reporter. Spoormakers, a former junior cycling champion, initially defended his comment but later backed down and admitted it was ‘offensive to a lot of people’.

Here’s a pic of the “reporter” in question:

I remember our band’s favorite question when faced with an outfit like this:  “Is it cold, or are you just pleased to see me?”

A more pertinent question would be this:  “Why did you put that top on this morning?”  And don’t give me that “It’s so hot!”  bullshit;  she wore it to attract the attention of the men she wanted to interview, and any other reason is a fucking lie.

Sorry, love;  if the goods aren’t to be looked at, don’t put them in the window.  And as for all the other scolds:  FOAD, and take your “fury” with you.

More Celebrity Bullshit

After not taking down Orange Man Bad, celebrities need another target for their hysteria… so why not go back to an old favorite?

Hollywood’s hypocritical gun control elites, including Rosie O’Donnell, Darryl Hannah, Amy Schumer, and others are applying pressure on studio executives to cut ties with the NRA.  This request comes just over a week before Hollywood comes together on February 9 for the Oscars.
1010 WCST reports that the celebs, joined by the gun control group Guns Down America, sent a letter to the execs which said, “Since the federal government has failed to pass reforms that raise the standard for gun ownership in America, our industry has a responsibility to act.”

Here’s a thought:  why don’t these pricks put their money/careers where their mouth is?  If these precious little darlings hate guns so much, then they should:

  • refuse to read any scripts which contain guns or gunplay; or else
  • tell their agents to put a clause into their next movie deal that if the storyline changes to involve any guns whatsoever, they have the right to walk off the set without penalty.

Let’s see how that works out for them.