Going on the offensive
As each day arrives, I feel less inclined to comment on the state of the world.
There was a time when I could put forward alternative arguments to the madness that’s creeping over society, but we have reached a stage where society has descended through parody and weirdness to a level of total insanity.
How can I comment on a world where laws are dictated by vested interests, quasi-religious zealots and even so called “celebrities”? A world that can dictate by law what I do with my own private life?
How can I compete with a world whose norms are apparently set by social media, where we have to tiptoe through the minefield of Political Correctness in the hopes that someone somewhere isn’t offended?
How can I even get my head around a culture where people can decide their own gender on a whim? Where the very use of the words “he” or “she” can be considered “offensive” and where the offended’s feelings take priority over my own common sense?
What can I say about a world where the apparent answer to any problem is to introduce more and more restrictive laws, designed to control me and extract more money from my dwindling resources?
There used to be a time when the individual was treated as a reasonable person, capable of making their own decisions on how they lived their lives and how they were governed. That time has long gone I fear. Now we are becoming micro-chipped faceless numbers whose sole function is to provide the powers that be an income from taxes and fines.
There is no word for the level of the depths of insanity that I see around me.
Is it any fucking wonder I have taken to writing about cats and dogs?
Don’t stop please. Your voice is needed by all of us who feel pretty much the same way – so we know we’re not alone and there’s more of us out there.
I’m not quitting altogether [yet]. It’s just that I’m finding it increasingly difficult to even believe some of the utter crap that appears these days.
Is it any fucking wonder I have taken to writing about cats and dogs?
And raccoons, don’t forget the raccoons!
For the record I think some of your ‘everyday life & pets’ posts say almost as much about our ‘world’ as one of your spleen lettings at some idiosyncrasy of our society or whatever stupidity our political lords and master have come up with now.
The modern world getting you down? You think you have it bad? BT have just managed to turn me- Mr.UnPC2017- into a bloody OFFENDED Snowflake!
https://community.bt.com/t5/BT-com-Community-feedback/BT-Have-Turned-Me-Into-A-quot-Snowflake-quot-if-you-re-disabled/td-p/1763894
Indeed – Raccoons too.
So you are going to demand a law that obliges BT to do something? You’re not a Snowflake if you don’t demand laws, and in fact are just one of us poor sods who have to fight the system on a daily basis.
To get your Snowflake status, DEMAND a law. Write to your MP. And most important – get OUTRAGED on Twitter.
To quote Mark Twain,
âThe more I learn about people, the more I like my dog.â
Amen! Unconditional love and loyalty. Try and get that from a cat!
I had that for 21 years! She even liked driving in the car and having two homes – in the car she would (secured by a harness) love to sit on the headrest and stare down the incredulous other drivers on the motorway who happened to look into my car 😉
Ah for the good old days of Sandy sitting in the front passenger seat acting as my co-pilot!
I was talking about a car loving cat!
I know you were. And I was talking about a car loving dog. I have to stick up for the Canines.
I like to stick up for both 😉
Do Guinea Pigs count? Their squeaking often makes more sense than the snowflakes bleating their outrage (should that be in capitals?)
I couldn’t agree more!
To the question “Sex?” we blokes used to answer, “Yes please!” Now it appears to require some class of soul searching to decide what the fuck you are. “I’m a bi-lennial, with three holes, a penis front and back and I only go with snails.” Ah Jesus, what ever happened to natural and normal and taking the piss out of pricks that couldn’t deal with it?
Apparently I’m ‘CIS’ gender, a Cissy?…which meant something different when I was at school.
Cisgender my fucking hole! Apparently it means you “identify” with the gender you were born with.
I am NOT “Cisgender”… I’m a fucking bloke. I was born one, never worried about it and am still one. I absolutely refuse to be categorised under some fucking snowflake agenda.
I was going to end by saying the snowflakes can go fuck themselves, but half them probably are already doing just that.
Me, I’m saving the nugget of my new found gender identity for some instance where I can claim someone is offending my CIS culture! How very dare they not serve me…is it cos i’s CIS?!?!
I think the “correct” term is “Gender”, not SEX.
We blokes like more SEX; the PC crowd like more Genders, for any of which you can “self identify”.
W M Briggs on his blog had a thing about “I self identify as a Yak” which was quite amusing. IIRC, He also self-identified as the Queen of Sheba. If asked “what’s your preferred pronoun” he could then reply “Your Majesty”.
I tried this the other week when asked on the phone by some Natwest muppet “can I call you gareth?” I said “No”: call me “Your Majesty”. Fair doos on the bloke, he did actually remember to do so later in the conversation 🙂
I should add of course that any such fun is just a tiny interlude in fighting a loosing battle. It’s just a question of whether we are first overrun by PC snowflake totalitarians, or as in previous falls, by invading hoards, and who will slaughter whom.
We are already overrun by them. I would love to know what the historians of the future will make of this Millennial Madness!
Grandad,
There is a way to sooth our old troubled minds of course.
Put the smartphone in a pan of boiling water.
Smash the computer by smashing it into the TV then settle down and lose yourself, again, by reading your way through all those, too long neglected, fine books nestled on the bookshelf shouting, âRead me! Read me again!â.
That’s probably the peaceful, insulated land us âstuck in the mud old fuddy duddiesâ should be living out our days in.
Of course we wonât as, each day, we wake and wonder what the latest lunacy will be now the asylums are obviously operating an âopen doorâ policy.
You have to admit there is a morbid fascination in discovering just what inane “discoveries” are coming down the line? Things that have been harmless for donkey’s years suddenly overnight become deadlier than a rattlesnake. Things that were lethal yesterday are beneficial today.
On the literary side, I have taken to just wandering into the library and picking books at random, as I had run out of Favourite Authors [I had read them all]. Half the books don’t draw me past the first two pages, but I have discovered some pretty good authors amongst the rest.
Mac, I for one look forward to the next lunacy – never fails to raise a smile. Dave Thomson’s “Elsewhere” and Taki Mag’s “The week that perished” are always good for a (cynical) laugh.
Granddad, talking of Raccoons do you have word of how the lady fares?
No further word from The Raccoon Arms. Maybe the Blocked Dwarf can add slightly more detail to that?
AFAIK the Landlady is back in the hospice having her medication plan tweaked (for some reason, known only unto her, her body decided to stop absorbing the Ketamine that was keeping her so nicely pain free-ish). And as much as she hates the place, and swore NEVER to return, it was the least worst option under the circumstances (of being in screaming agony). I went up and saw her last Saturday in PBL but haven’t heard from her directly in maybe 36 hours so this evening I am expecting a text or email from her to say she is back where she belongs at home and running G ragged (I cannot over emphasise the sheer patience of that man, honestly).
She has posted on twitter this afternoon so I think it is safe to say that 1.she nagged G into bringing her computer back into the hospice and 2. she’s alive. Her twitter feed is https://twitter.com/annaraccoon2017?lang=en