Morality Issue

Needless to say, I’ve never watched a single minute of the Brit TV show Love Island, in which (I think) a bunch of single people are thrown together in a closed-off environment to see which of them will pair off and find “love” — after bonking like bunnies, no doubt.  (My Brit friends tell me it’s as bad as it sounds, maybe worse.)  But that’s not why I’m talking about the stupid thing;  this is.

One of the contestants was recently revealed to be [gasp]  a keen big game hunter, and has had several photos published of him posed next to some dead animal or other.  Needless to say, in today’s culture, that makes him Literally Hitler or some such bullshit, and there have been calls for him to be tossed off the show — curiously, considering that the show revolves around wholesale fornication, he should be fired as an “issue of morality”.

So promiscuous sex is okay, but hunting is streng verboten?  Got it.

However, the producers of the show — at least at the time I write this — have refused all demands to fire the man, and basically told all the wokescolds to FOAD.

Good for them.

Hoofbeats? Not Really

I am always banging on [sic] about how the West is in decline because of moral degradation and such, but of late I have been much more forgiving of this kind of thing, when it is practiced by individualsHere’s an example:

“Since I started swinging, I’ve been having the best sex of my life, and have met so many new people.  Swinging over New Year is so fun, everyone is in such high spirits. It depends what you’re into, but for me swinging on New Year’s Eve is much more fun than a traditional party.”

Compare this kind of immoral behavior with teaching grade-school kids about anal sex, and I think you’ll see where I’m drawing the line.

I’m not saying that I’d ever do it, myself — just thinking about it makes me feel a little queasy — but if grownups, and especially Olde Pharttes with no encumbrances as in the linked story want to butter their bread that way, it’s NOMB.

Cluebat Needed

Some people just have no fucking clue.  Example #1:

I know that this may be seen as hateful / rayyciss / [insert epithet of choice]  to some — but what the complainers fail to realize is that handing out LGBTOSTFU flags to children is just as offensive to some people as waving the Confederate flag is to others.  If you allow the one, you have to allow the other.  The good news in this case is the sub-heading.

Example #2:

Nobody wants gun battles in churches.  However, if the choice is between “gun battle”  and “mass slaughter of innocent unarmed victims”, let’s just insist that “gun battle”  is the better option.  Not only that, but in even considering the slaughter as preferable, we can also say with certainty that people who are prepared to see mass slaughters of innocent unarmed victims just so that their anti-gun mantra is satisfied, are very bad people.

Innuendo, Death Of

The Brit version of our “dollar stores” (everything for a dollar) is named “Poundland”, and every year they spice up their Christmas commercials with something a little more daring.  This year was no exception:

Needless to say, the Perpetually Offended raced to the barricades, and the usual bullshit followed.

Now it’s my turn to be offended.  I happen to love using sexual banter, innuendo and double entendre  in my everyday speech.  I think sex is the spice of life, it’s certainly the spice of conversation, and as long as you don’t get crude and crass about it, it serves as both mental gymnastics and flirting.

I remember once having lunch with a coworker who happened to be an extraordinarily-beautiful woman — I mean, imagine a face like Monroe and a body like vintage Nigella, and you’re getting close.  As it happened, we decided to have dessert, and ordered:  she a strawberry sundae and I, a banana split.  When the dishes arrived, we both made a face of distaste.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She gestured at the maraschino sitting atop the sundae, and said, “I hate cherries.”  Then she asked, “And what’s wrong with yours?”
I pointed at the chopped nuts scattered all over the banana split, and said, “Ugh.”  (I hate mixing crunchy with soft textures in my food.)
Then I said, “Well, I’ll tell you what we can do.”
“What?”
“If you eat my nuts, I’ll pop your cherry.”

She laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks, then threw the cherry at me, still laughing.

I should point out that this incident took place in the early 1980s, when one could say stuff like this and not get arrested for aggravated patriarchy or whatever they call it these days.  Nowadays, of course, she’d complain to HR and I’d get crucified, lose my job and never be able to find work again.

I miss the old days.  God, I miss the old days.

Oh, and as for the story which introduced this post:  as much as I enjoy the occasional finger, I don’t really care much for the Cadbury’s version.

Goat A Yell, Snowflake

Bloody hell, I wish this tiresome generation of wokey Millennials would just stick to sucking on Tide pods and quit whining about everything that was invented before they were born.

A student has slammed classic Disney films for being ‘horrendously outdated and offensive’, claiming that the Jungle Book character King Louie is racist and that many of the animations have ‘not aged well’.
Lauren Robertson re-watched 11 Disney favourites – accusing most of them of ‘portraying racist and exaggerated stereotypes’.
The student, who studies languages at Aberdeen University, branded films such as Dumbo, The Lady and the Tramp and The Little Mermaid as ‘dodgy’.

And if you have the stomach to follow the link, you’ll see from her pictures that she has the insufferably smug expression of the Terminally Righteous.

All this is of a piece with those fools who want to ban Twain’s Huckleberry Finn  just because it contains the word nigger, little realizing that despite the frequent use of the word, Twain’s masterpiece rearranged the entire way that 19th-century America looked at race.  In fact, Twain himself probably did more to improve race relations in this country than any two of today’s race hustlers (such as Jesse Jackson and that idiot, the late Elijah Cummings).

As for that little Scottish snowflake who needs a “safe space” to escape the evils of old Disney cartoons, I wish she’d just crawl into that safe space — preferably a tiny closet — and die there.

Couple Bugs There

Let’s hear it for the Surveillance Society:

Privacy advocates used Amazon’s facial recognition to scan thousands of random faces around Capitol Hill in Washington DC to highlight the dangers of this technology’s surveillance capabilities.
While walking around, the team found the facial recognition successfully identified a congressman, but also claimed to spot Roy Orbison – an American singer who died in 1988.
The demonstration was a message to Congress to ban the technology, as there’s no law preventing people from scanning your face without your consent anytime you step out in public.

Hey, I’m pretty sure that ol’ Roy did a few regrettable things in his lifetime (bonked underage groupies, etc.) so now that the gummint has found evidence of his “existence”, they can do a little retroactive post-mortem prosecution.  I’ve seen worse.

What I wanted to see was that the software identified someone who was provably somewhere else at the time — so that in times to come when this bullshit is used by the cops to break an alibi, the evidence can get tossed out of court.