Tag: Stupid people

Mary Poppins, Racist

Modernism

Unlike many people, I have no problem when some “woke” professor from Karl Marx U. decides that a beloved fictional character is in fact a closet racist for not wiping soot from her face.

Yeah, I know it’s ridiculous.  And the more that these tools sink into ridiculousness, the sooner the ensuing ridicule is going to sink the Good Ship Wokeness beneath waves of scornful laughter.

What amazes me is that The Onion and Babylon Bee are still in business, what with all these prickly hypersensitive fools defying satire on a daily basis.

As for Mary Poppins (the original movie), the greatest crime remains not Mary’s sooty face, but Dick Van Dyke’s attempted Cockney accent.  Can’t forgive that one.

Too Many Words, Mozart

Freaks & Loonies

My dear friend Sarah spends way too much time, devotes way too much empathy and writes far too many words talking about 0.0005% of the population.

There is a similarly-sized percentage of the population who consider voluntary amputation of limbs as a worthwhile life choice, but (so far) this bunch of sad people hasn’t been elevated by progressives and their media lickspittles to a topic for national debate and enforced social accommodation.

Me, I’m sick of hearing about how “transitioning” people get offended when people either don’t recognize their “status” or (like me) refuse to give them the recognition and “caring” that they demand by, for example, using nonsensical pronouns (xir? xey? xooey?  they sound like 50s comic book sound effects) in describing or addressing them.

As far as I’m concerned, this whole “trans” bunch may be a group worthy of sympathy/empathy, or alternatively a collection of pathetic, dysfunctional people;  but  either way, as a percentage of the populace they fall so far down the bell curve numerically that there’s no point in talking or even thinking about them.  We have better things to do with our time.

And I too have spent way too much time on this particular topic, so now it’s back to guns.

Dumping The Spouse

Men & Women

Here’s a little bit of cheery goodness for you.  In the Ultra-Self-Centered Wing of the Museum of Solipsism, you may find this:

One in ten women admit they would DUMP their partner in return for more free hours in the day — as most confess they need an extra 82 minutes every day
2,000 American women aged 18 and over took part in the study, which looked at their average daily routines
The average woman said she needs an extra 82 minutes a day to accomplish everything she wants to get done
If they had more free time, 36% said they would use it to read, and 29% would use it to work out
Over 30% said they have less than 30 minutes to themselves each day
Due to lack of time, half of those surveyed have given up hobbies
22% would use their time to learn a new skill like knitting or photography

How precious.  Momma wants more time to improve herself, even after admitting to this:

30 per cent of women would give up social media and TV for more free time

Here’s an alternative statistic for you.  If women weren’t so stupidly obsessed with social media bullshit and their appearance, 100% of men wouldn’t leave them.

Or something like that.

 

Bite Me

Two-Minute Hate

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.

The King Is Dead

Business, Men & Women, Modernism

One wonders what King Gillette would think of his company’s current manifestation of anti-masculinity:

A new short film released by the shaving brand dedicates itself to tackling toxic masculinity in a video that relies more on berating men for not living up to the standards of feminists than selling razors.

Knowing but a little of what King Gillette was like, and knowing how many years of toil and financial hardship he endured to get his disposable razor blade to the market, I think he’d probably burn the whole fucking thing to the ground, and I’d be handing him the cans of gasoline.

In the grand scheme of things, I’d be one of the men refusing to buy Gillette products in protest at their foolishness.  But the truth of the matter is that I haven’t used a Gillette product in well over a quarter of a century, simply because I refuse to spend about $5 for a blade which lasts me less than a week*.  (Good old safety singles or bargain-priced Trac II blades for me;  and if I run out, I use a straight, or “cutthroat” razor without a qualm.)

As for Gillette’s parent company, Proctor & Gamble:  I have suffered untold toiletry privations at their hands, the miserable Cincinnati MFCS bastards:  brand “extensions” which end up replacing much-loved products, only to see said extensions later withdrawn, meaning that I have to find replacements for products I’ve used sometimes for decades.  Try to find, in supermarkets or drugstores anywhere, Old Spice Original Fresh Stick deodorant with the the light blue label — not the anti-perspirant variant, which smells like cat piss.  I’ve been using Old Spice Fresh sticks for well over fifty years, and now I’m forced to buy them online in packs of 24 because they are nowhere to be found otherwise.  And if that supply dries up, I’ll stop using deodorant altogether, because every other male deodorant on the market nowadays smells like an attractant for homosexual prostitutes during Fleet Week.)

To use Gillette’s line on P&G:  50 years of unswerving loyalty is “the best a man can get”, you incompetent fuckers.  Too bad it means nothing to you.

A pox on all of them.  I can’t wait for “woke” to become “choke”, and may they burn in the fires of toiletry hell.

*En passant:  I once tried one of those 5-blade things — a disposable — just for the hell of it, and it felt like someone was dragging the hair out of my face with sandpaper.