Every Day A New Thing

Because I read voraciously, and always have, I’ve followed an unspoken mantra that I should learn something new every single day of my life.  And by “new”, I don’t mean any old shit like the price of pizza at the new Italian restaurant up the road;  no, by golly, I mean something at least of historical, literary or cultural interest.

Longtime Readers will know that I am an unabashed Europhile when it comes to history;  my degree is in Modern European History (not “Western” history, by the way — my knowledge of U.S. history is at best a tad more than “adequate”), and seldom a day goes past when I don’t set out to learn something new about the period of 1750 – 1950 in Europe.

I think I need to broaden my horizons, however, because only yesterday I was brought up short when reading this article by Jorge Montoyo, where the very first paragraph provided this nugget:

During the Tang dynasty, a golden age for poets, Empress Wu Chao [Zhao]  forced every male dignitary who had an audience with her to wash his mouth with rose water and practice cunnilingus on her.  Diplomats and courtiers had to do their best so that their requests were met, and even then it was not a guarantee, since Chinese politics have always been cunning and inscrutable, with oscillations between the sun and the shadow of yin and yang.

My first thought, incidentally, was how loud the feministicals’ screams would be had this been a Chinese Emperor  who forced women seeking an audience to first give him a blowjob.  (My suspicion is that the modern-day Carrie Nations of Patriarchal Sexuality would have 1984’d this historical snippet out of the history books forever.)

My second thought was that Wu Zhao was quite a girl — she made Russia’s fearsome Catherine The Great look like a Victorian governess by comparison —  and if she had even half the power she seems to have wielded, her demand for pre-consultation cunnilingus doesn’t seem so far fetched.  Of course, she reigned for many years, which in itself is a little problematic, because early in her reign she probably looked something like this:

whereas in the later years of her reign, she looked like this:

In the first case, mandatory cunnilingus might have been no burden, nay even pleasurable.  But I have a suspicion that the cunnilingual prerequisite was probably instituted towards the end of her life… and I don’t think I need go any further with that  visual.

Still, I think it’s an examplary historical precedent for us to at least consider today, if for no other reason that even among historians who detest Wu Zhao, there is absolute consensus that her reign was, all things considered, hugely successful.  To quote but a couple of historians:

“To the horror of traditional Chinese historians, all members of the shih class, the continued success of the T’ang was in large measure due to an ex-concubine who finally usurped the throne itself…  Though she was ruthless towards her enemies, the period of her ascendency was a good one for China.  Government was sound, no rebellions occurred, abuses in the army and administration were stamped out and Korea was annexed, an achievement no previous Chinese had ever managed.”
Yong Yap Cotterell and Arthur Cotterell.

Here’s the thing:  if you knew, or were guaranteed, that including cunnilingus would result in as successful a reign (or term as head of government) as Wu’s, do you think any politician (male or female) would turn that down?

Of course, there’s no chance that any of today’s crop of European feministical politicos would ever institute such an exotic (erotic?) practice, because unlike Wu, they all seem devoid of a sense of humor.  And take a look at a sample of said feministical prime ministers and presidents:

You have to admit, though… oh, wait:

Forget I said anything.

News Roundup — International Edition

No links because we Murkins don’t really care much for furriners.  I do this so you don’t need to.


and as it’s China, let’s just go with a hundred-and-eight thousand, because we all know the ChiComs lie like Clintons.  And speaking of lying, this from the BBC:


and I will give $10,000 to anyone who can provide irrefutable scientific proof that viruses can be teleported by radio waves… you fucking moron.


…good grief, the Italians can start opening up businesses, and we can’t?  And meanwhile, in the south


except they’re not Covidiots, they’re pissed-off mafiosi.  (In the old days. they’d just have sent someone round to visit the families of the chopper pilots.)


I think we need to start a Berlin Airlift-style operation in eastern Greece, only we drop machine-guns instead of coal and food.


that’s the spirit:  disarm the cops first, then riot.


and you have to know things are getting bad when the servile obedient Germans are stoning their Polizei.  But at least they’re not getting out of control, unlike elsewhere:


I think this headline should be printed out and distributed to the public at large;  and the next time some asswipe Californian cop gets all enforcey on someone taking a stroll along an empty beach, he should be given a copy.  Just as an FYI, of course.

Finally, some educational news:


and unlike what you may have heard from Hollywood:  Krakatoa is west of Java.  Now you know.

Cheers

Of course, it had to be a German:

While appearing on “The Morning Show,” Dr. Rissland was asked about whether or not drinking alcohol could kill any viruses a person may have ingested. “Yes, of course, that’s true,” Dr. Rissland responded. “And the higher the percentage of alcohol, the better it is. For example, if you are a whisky lover, then that certainly isn’t a bad idea,” he continued, while offering this bit of sage advice to pace yourself:  “But of course you need to bear in mind that you can’t do that every 15 minutes, that is something else to consider.”

Speak for yourself, mein medisches freund.  Actually, I think a half-mouthful of Scotch every quarter-hour is a little slow — to judge by the normal spirits-intake rate of several of my friends (Mr. Free Market, Doc Russia and Mrs. Sorenson, to name but three), and mine certainly doesn’t rank far behind.

I think the good doctor shouldn’t confine himself to just whisky / whiskey;  he needs to publish a list of high-alcohol beverages, as a public service, of course.

Needless to say, the fuckheads at the WHO disagree strongly with his considered medical opinion.  But I ask you, O My Readers:  whose opinion would you rather trust:  a conscientious, methodical German doctor, or the idiots who brought you too-late-breaking news of the Chinkvirus?  I don’t think it requires that much thought, really.

The only question remains:  Scotch, rum or brandy?

News Roundup

This week, a picture’s worth a thousand words (links in the pictures):


you see, that’s the nice thing about being a sovereign nation and not part of some unelected supranational entity:  you don’t need to get permission from anybody when your own self-interest is involved.


oh NOES !!!  No Aintree, no Train Smash Women!  How much more must we endure?


nobody cares what you think, you washed-up old Marxist bitch.


STFU, you stupid name-brand nobody.  As if anyone cares what you think, either.


yup, there go the Commies;  always with the “experts” to tell us how to run our lives.  And Congress?  I’d rather put Steve Urkel in charge.


…make it “permanent”, and at least some good will have come out of this shit.


no, no, you silly people, you shouldn’t be buying eeeevil guns:  why, the government will look after you and keep you safe — just like they do your families back in Wuhan.


…what’s even funnier is that most of his supporters will believe him.

And finally, one pic to answer another:

  …

Inexplicable Part Deux

I saw that the CanuckiPM’s wife has been diagnosed with the dreaded Wuhan virus.  I didn’t even know the little drip was married, so I hastened to see the evidence:

Wait… what?  Shome mishtake, shurrly.

She’s quite hot, in that bland north-of-the-48th-parallel way, and probably could have had her choice of Canucki-males.  But no.  This near-hottie did this:

…with this?

(Bernard Weil/Toronto Star via Getty Images)

Good grief.

Then I learned that she’s since had three children, all allegedly fathered by him.

As I said, inexplicable…

The Trouble With Cheltenham

As the racing season gets underway in Britishland,  I can announce with some happiness that the first major race at Cheltenham doesn’t feature the usual assortment of Train Smash Women, as the clientele (various Royals and other toffs) are Not Of That Ilk, thank goodness.  Here’s a representative sample of yesterday’s Ladies Day:

And of course avid racegoer Charlotte Hawkins looked lovely, as usual:

Maybe the shivery wet weather kept the ladies in check, who knows?  And speaking checks, here’s Princess Anne’s daughter Zara (who, as a former Olympic equestrienne medallist probably knows more about horses than any other woman at the course):

But for those Readers who like me are impatient to see the Train Smash Brigade, never fear:  Liverpool’s Aintree will be taking place in a couple week’s time…