Playing with fire

In some ways this story, seen on Twitter, is related to yesterday’s post about Pakistanis fighting Roma:

16 Vancouver women facing human rights complaints for refusing to wax transgender woman’s male genitalia

“JY” publicly identifies as a woman, but still has all the male parts.  In recent months, JY approached 16 Vancouver-area female estheticians who only serve women, requesting a “Brazilian” bikini wax on his groin area.

In spite of the fact that JY is able to obtain a Manzilian in Vancouver, JY has filed 16 complaints against these women at the BC Human Rights Tribunal, claiming discrimination on the basis of “gender identity.”

It is similar because it represents yet another example of the government creating protected classes in order to advance political agendas, and gifting them special rights and privileges which result in ludicrous yet predictable outcomes bringing misery to ordinary people.

As we saw in the US, no sooner did the Supreme Court grant homosexuals the right to marry in the name of equality when activists went from establishment to establishment looking for someone to accuse of discrimination. It was only a matter of time before transsexuals started doing the same thing, and Justin Trudeau’s Canada was the logical place to start. That the whole thing is a shake-down is obvious:

One of them, Shelah Poyer, is a single mom who works out of her home.  JY was willing to withdraw his complaint in exchange for $2,500.

If JY is demanding similar sums from the other 14 women, he stands to receive as much as $35,000 for dropping his human rights complaints.

It’s a handy racket, one that Jessie Jackson deployed in the US for years to good effect. But it does leave me wondering how many of these women now being clobbered by insane legislation initially supported it, confident it would eradicate bigotry as they saw it? Or at least, how many voted for the government that’s brought it in? Feminists were quite happy to use bad law to bludgeon men into submission, and now they’re finding men in dresses are using those same laws against them. Whose fault is that, then?

That said, I think the trannies might be overplaying their hand here. As I’ve remarked before, gays are largely accepted in western societies because there are enough of them around that anyone my age knows a few, and most of them will be normal, decent people. It’s a similar story with blacks in the UK: once you go to school with a few black lads, eat meals, play sport, and joke around with them it’s rather uncomfortable to hear people talking about “jungle bunnies” and the like, and you’d rather disassociate from those who do. If you see those pictures of black men being beaten senseless by police in the civil rights era for standing in the wrong place, it’s hard not to sympathise. Similarly, when Iran hangs young men for being gay you wonder if it wouldn’t be too much trouble just to leave them the hell alone.

But with trannies it’s different, because there simply aren’t enough of them. If gays make up around 2-5% of any given population, it’s enough that you’ll get to know a few and realise they’re not insane. But trannies are around 0.1% of the population or thereabouts, and few people know any outside a trip to a Bangkok nightclub they’d rather forget. While I’m sure there are transsexuals who are reasonable, decent people who generally want to be left alone, the ones the public see appear to be in desperate need of treatment for mental illness. And to make matters much worse, those in the public eye have adopted a nasty authoritarian streak aimed at forcing the ordinary public to share in their delusions. This will not end well.

I’m not entirely sure that gays, if the more militant of them continue to act as they do, will not be subject to an appalling backlash in at least one western country. Their approach to the ordinary population is perilous enough, so where does that leave trannies? Out on a limb, that’s where. Few will have much sympathy if some bloke in a frock launches a program of aggressive extortion against women and ends up unconscious in a ditch somewhere.

The fault lies squarely with western governments and progressives who support these insane policies. We often hear how dangerous it is being transsexual, usually in articles which ignore the fact an awful lot of them work as street prostitutes. By passing laws which encourage these people, who are usually mentally unstable to begin with, to go around ruining the lives of strangers they’re making it all the more likely they’ll come to grievous harm. Politicians of all stripes need to get a grip of this, rid the statute books of these insane laws favouring certain groups, and stop this extortion racket before someone gets seriously hurt.

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Clash of Clans

Here’s a story which was doing the rounds last week:

It was an unusually heavy response to a fight in a school canteen: a police helicopter, police dog and 15 police vehicles all rushed to Fir Vale Academy in Page Hall, Sheffield, one Tuesday in late September.

The drama, inevitably, was caught on camera. The screaming in the dinner hall, children climbing on tables to escape. Outside, a teenage girl in handcuffs, face-down on a police car; the man in a tracksuit being mauled by a police dog. A pupil had texted false talk of a knife fight, and parents had been trying to scale the fence to reach the school.

So what was it all about?

[T]he fight had begun when a Roma girl pulled off the headscarf of a Muslim classmate.

An incident which didn’t come out of a clear blue sky:

Angry Fir Vale parents – most Pakistanis, no Roma – shouted at a panel of wincing white council workers about “them”. Their new Roma neighbours. “David Blunkett was right!” yelled one man. “This is a ticking time bomb. If it goes off, you’re going to need the army.”

They refused to see the hijab incident as an isolated scrap between teenage girls. “This is not just a school issue… This is ready to blow up. Bang,” warned one man. “We’ve lived here 35, 40 years and you expect us to sit silently,” said another, claiming that he had 60 cousins ready to provide back-up for what he said could be “a riot like you’ve never seen before in your life”.

I was late to this story, but a lively discussion took place in the comments at Tim Worstall’s, which is worth reading. There are a few things going on here. Firstly, I very much doubt the people are Roma in the commonly understood sense; more likely they’ll be people who until last week were called “travellers”, fifteen years ago “gypsies”, and by nearly everyone in private, even now, “pikeys”. I grew up around communities of gypsies and they were indistinguishable in ethnicity from the locals. But at some point during the Blair years someone realised that classifying them as a different race made a whole new victim group on which public sector careers could be made; you have to do something with all these new social studies graduates, after all. So now a run-of-the-mill British gypsy alongside whose brethren I used to pick spuds and stack straw now belongs to a protected class.

Only on the other side of the battle lines we have another protected class, whose status was so assured that men in the very same locality were permitted to systematically gang-rape underage girls while the police looked on and did nothing. (Incidentally, if I were to guess, I’d say the number of gypsy girls these men abused was precisely nil). So having designated as protected classes two maladjusted, poorly integrated groups thus putting them beyond the bounds of even mild criticism on pain of imprisonment, what happens when they start fighting each other? Well, I don’t know because until now no government in history has been stupid enough to run such an experiment, but we can take a guess.

Firstly, the Pakistanis are more numerous: that chap wasn’t joking when he said he had 60 cousins, and even if some of them are in a village outside Lahore, they can become British citizens and over there in a jiffy. The gypsies maintain large families, but they don’t have an entire nation on which to draw reserves. Secondly, Pakistanis are darker skinned. Gypsies aren’t exactly blonde haired and blue eyed, but even the obese creature with green hair in charge of social inclusion at the local council is going to be hard pressed to deny categorising them as a separate ethnic group was a little fanciful. Particularly so if they’re lined up opposite a bunch of fellows who’d look pretty handy with ball in hand on 22 yards of short-cut grass. Thirdly, Pakistanis are Muslim, and have lobbying power which would make an oil executive kick a barrel out of pure jealousy. By contrast, the gypsies are members of a lesser religion – or perhaps none at all, it doesn’t matter. When designated victim groups have clashed before, it is always those of the one true faith who prevail, and it will be the same this time around.

So the authorities will hold frantic meetings in the Nelson Mandela – Salvadore Allende conference rooms in the local town halls, during which they’ll wrack their brains to come up with a way to blame this on Tommy Robinson. But in the end they’ll be forced to conclude that the gypsies are white after all, and racist to boot. Until they turn up on the common of a middle class village, anyway.

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Survive, rebuild, and…erm…forget it

Via Fay once more, a bizarre article about a lefty “prepper” who is ensuring she’s ready for catastrophes such as zombie attacks, giant earthquakes, and the election of a Republican president. Here’s an accompanying pic:

Both advantages and disadvantages of seeing out a nuclear winter holed up in a bunker with someone like this occur to me, mainly distinguishable by whether she’s alive or dead after Day 1. But she’ll not come alone:

While I was beginning to explore the art of prepping, I met my partner, a fellow anarchist who specializes in constructing urban shelters and creating makeshift weapons out of random finds from the local dumpster.

If you need a club fashioned from a stale baguette, he’s your man.

Ape teaches me how to handle and care for knives and guns, while I teach him how to recognize medicinal herbs in an urban setting, how to preserve food, and how to stitch up a wound.

Once he’s washed his hands, I hope.

Ape and I had sex at an “End of the World” orgy on the night of Trump’s election. The crowd was mostly sex workers and queer folks. None of us wanted to face this election alone, so we got together at a friend’s loft apartment to handle the news as best we could — with food, alcohol and sex.

I have no idea why this is relevant to the story, but research shows that people with blue hair and a history of orgy-attendance insist on telling others about it.

What was normally a group of boisterous party animals started off with us tentatively nibbling at cheese and crackers, whispering to each other in corners, and halfheartedly making out, one eye always on the votes coming in.

People who host orgies provide cheese and crackers? Well, I’ve learned something today.

When it became clear that Trump was going to be our next president, silence descended over the mostly naked crowd. Everyone seemed frozen in place. I felt a sinking in my gut and I knew what we needed to do; my boyfriend and I looked at each other and began to dress without a word.

Making your getting laid dependent on Hillary winning was probably not the smartest move in hindsight. And unsurprisingly:

And a surprising amount of my Burning Man community not only knew a lot about filtering and recycling water or using alternative energy but also seemed to own and use guns

She’s in with the Burning Man crowd, eh? Who would have guessed?

[The author], Kitty Stryker, is an anarchist, a Juggalo, and a street medic working in the East Bay. Her first book, “Ask: Building Consent Culture” was published through Thorntree Press in 2017.

Amusingly, the foreword to her book is written by none other than Laurie Penny; the two met in a fetish club in 2010. Come the Apocalypse, I think I’ll take my chances with the zombies.

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More on women attacking men

This video was doing the rounds on Twitter the other day:


Here’s the story:

A 5ft 1in woman choked a nightclub bouncer into unconsciousness after mistakenly thinking he slapped her on the bottom.

Police have released video footage of Kierah Lagrave, 22, from Plattsburgh, New York, coming at the man from behind in a local nightclub.

She then puts her arms around his neck before they both fall to the floor.

The bouncer did not resist because he assumed it was one of his friends playing a prank, police said.

He was unconscious for a few moments.

There’s a lot wrong with this. Mainly, what kind of a bouncer would just stand there while someone choked them from behind? I can’t imagine any of the Manchester Doorsafe thugs circa 1996 doing that (I’m sure Thud can verify). Also, could she really choke him out like that? Her technique would have to be spot on, which isn’t inconceivable but it is unlikely. So it might be that the whole thing was a prank.

But assuming the story’s vaguely true, this is another example of modern women attacking grown men which I’ve written about before. Looking at the video, the bouncer could have literally killed that woman with two blows. Whoever is responsible for teaching women how to behave, they should really emphasise that physically attacking grown men, especially large young ones, is a very bad idea. If this keeps up, one of them’s going to mistake a violent criminal thug for a middle class white boy and end up dead.

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Strangers on a Plane

A few days ago a friend posted a story on Facebook regarding an EasyJet flight she took with her husband and two boys, aged four and two. She boarded the flight to find there weren’t any seats left close together, meaning her eldest boy had to sit beside a stranger. She asked people if they would mind moving so she could sit with her children but nobody was willing, and the aircrew weren’t interested. It took about an hour for her Facebook feed to go full Mumsnet, with women suggesting she should have told her child to cough all over the innocent passenger he’s sat beside, or cite safety concerns to the air crew who, apparently, would be forced to swap people around.

So I’ll start by saying I know the family well and they’re lovely, with no sense of entitlement. The mother posted the story just because she was disappointed nobody was willing to move. As it turned out, her boy did just fine on his own (last time I saw him he was about one and he rammed me with his sit-on tractor, so I think he can take care of himself). I’ll also say that the obvious solution is to not fly EasyJet if you want your family to sit together, and instead book with an airline which lets you reserve seats in advance. But it’s a situation worth looking at in more detail.

If it were me, I would have moved. Normally I pay for extra legroom at the emergency exit or the bulkhead, and I wouldn’t move to an ordinary seat in those circumstances, but if I’m in a regular seat and travelling alone and someone politely asks me to move, I always do. I’ve moved seats so kids can sit with their parents, or couples can sit together. I’ve lived in functional societies, and I’ve lived in dysfunctional societies. I believe the difference between the two is a culture in which people make dozens of small sacrifices on a daily basis which act as a lubricant for the society as a whole to get along. So you stand aside for people pushing prams, you let people out into traffic, you conduct yourself in a way which minimises the aggregate level of inconvenience and difficulty for everyone involved in a given situation. Annecy works a lot like this. For example, everyone stops at zebra crossings, and those crossing always give a little wave to the driver. People also hold doors open for one another and stand aside if someone is carrying something heavy. By contrast, drivers in Lagos will move two metres forward and block an entire highway because it means they have gained two metres. The fact a hundred cars are now blocked in because of their actions doesn’t matter one whit: the important thing is they have advanced two metres, and to hell with everyone else. This is why Lagos is the most dysfunctional place I’ve ever been to.

Britain is slowly but surely shifting from a society where people cooperated to ease things along to one where it’s every man and woman for themselves. Unfortunately, none embody the spirit of “f*ck you, I’ll do what I want” more than young mothers after a late-night session on Mumsnet. There was a time when parents didn’t take young children into restaurants because the inevitable screaming and toddler behaviour would disturb the other patrons. Now it’s “tough sh*t, I have as much right to be here as you”. There was also a time when, if a child was causing a disturbance, the mother would feel deeply embarrassed and get her kid out of there pronto. Now her approach is “so what, he’s a child, he can’t help it” or, worse, she does nothing at all. Breastfeeding in public is another interesting subject in this regard. I have no problem with it, and I’ve sat with a friend who breastfed her boy under a blanket and it didn’t bother me at all. But some people don’t like it, and rather than seeking a compromise or avoiding conflict the position of mothers has been “I have right to breastfeed in public, it’s your problem, not mine”.

The trouble with a society where people loudly declare they have a right to do X, Y, and Z and everyone else will just have to lump it, is the give-and-take compromises which act as the lubricant to make everyone’s lives a little more pleasant dries up. Eventually people will think if you have the right to do X, then I have the right to do Y. Or, to come back to the EasyJet flight, I have a right to stay in my seat. There’s also the related issue, which I’ve written about before, of parents thinking the whole world must changed for the benefit of their brats. If you see a highly illiberal policy idea being shared on Facebook, you can be sure it has the strong backing of over-entitled middle class mothers who want everyone’s freedoms severely curtailed “for the sake of the children.” By which they mean their children. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s getting a little sick of this, and it’s not going to help matters when a mother needs too ask a favour of a stranger.

A lot of the responses to my friend’s original Facebook post complained how selfish the other passengers were, or how they despair of modern society. But this didn’t happen overnight, and I suspect one or two of them have helped bring this situation about more than they realise.

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Supreme Courts 2, Political Activists 0

This is good news:

A Belfast bakery run by evangelical Christians was not obliged to make a cake emblazoned with the message “support gay marriage”, the supreme court has ruled, overturning a £500 damages award imposed on it.

Ashers had refused to produce the cake, featuring the Sesame Street puppets Bert and Ernie, in 2014 for Gareth Lee, who supports the campaign to legalise same-sex marriage in Northern Ireland. He wanted to take it to a private function marking International Day Against Homophobia.

Crucially the judgement, which was unanimous, was based on the fact that the baker wasn’t discriminating against Lee for being gay, but objected to the message being put on the cake:

“It is deeply humiliating, and an affront to human dignity, to deny someone a service because of that person’s race, gender, disability, sexual orientation or any of the other protected personal characteristics,” Hale said in the judgment.

“But that is not what happened in this case and it does the project of equal treatment no favours to seek to extend it beyond its proper scope.”

Freedom of expression, as guaranteed by article 10 of the European convention on human rights, includes the right “not to express an opinion which one does not hold”, Hale added. “This court has held that nobody should be forced to have or express a political opinion in which he does not believe,” she said.

“The bakers could not refuse to supply their goods to Mr Lee because he was a gay man or supported gay marriage, but that is quite different from obliging them to supply a cake iced with a message with which they profoundly disagreed.”

Quite so, and it was on this issue of compelled speech which the United States Supreme Court ruled in favour of the Colorado baker back in June. It is good to see the right to freedom of expression upheld by the highest courts on both sides of the Atlantic.

After the ruling, Lee said: “I’m very confused about what this actually means.

It means you cannot demand that a business or service provider promotes political messages with which they fundamentally disagree, even if you’re gay.

We need certainty when you go to a business.

Yeah? Try getting a delivery date from a sofa company.

I’m concerned that this has implications for myself and for every single person.

Indeed it does. It means everyone must now be fully aware business owners cannot be forced to express opinions via their work with which they do not agree. If this concerns you, perhaps take a look at your own behaviour.

The original decision to turn down his order had left him feeling like a “second-class citizen”, he said.

A little bit like how I feel whenever I try to open a bank account or buy a bed. But making people feel bad isn’t illegal.

Lee said he would be considering his options, which could involve appealing to the European court of human rights in Strasbourg.

So who’s paying for this? Ah:

Michael Wardlow, the head of the Equality Commission for Northern Ireland, said it had spent £250,000 supporting Lee’s appeal. It will now have to pay costs.

The British taxpayer, that’s who’s paying. Little wonder Lee has pursued this with enthusiasm; if he was paying £250 an hour for lawyers from his own pocket he would probably have just gone to a different bakery.

He said: “We are very disappointed. This judgment leaves a lack of clarity in equality law. Our understanding of certainty of the law has been overturned.

On the contrary, it has provided some much-needed clarity. That your taxpayer-funded, government department decided it had won the culture wars, and erroneously though people could be forced by law into saying things they didn’t want to, is a consequence of your own arrogance.

The supreme court seems to see this as something that should be done on a case-by-case basis.

And you seem incapable of reading a judgement.

A spokesperson for the gay rights organisation Stonewall said: “This is a backward step for equality which needs to be urgently addressed. The decision that Ashers bakery were not discriminatory in the so-called ‘gay cake’ row is very concerning for anyone who cares about equality.”

But very uplifting for anyone who cares about liberty. Now I don’t like Peter Tatchell much, not least because he seems keen to force LGBQT madness on Russians, but he’s spot on here:

But the human rights campaigner Peter Tatchell, said: “This verdict is a victory for freedom of expression. As well as meaning that Ashers cannot be legally forced to aid the promotion of same-sex marriage, it also means that gay bakers cannot be compelled by law to decorate cakes with anti-gay marriage slogans.

“Although I profoundly disagree with Ashers’ opposition to marriage equality, in a free society neither they nor anyone else should be forced to facilitate a political idea that they oppose. The ruling does not permit anyone to discriminate against LGBT people. Such discrimination rightly remains unlawful.”

Indeed.

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Learning to Share

Via Tim Worstall, this article in which the following complaint is made by a Wetherspoons barmaid:

When you earn less than £9 an hour, it’s impossible to afford a place of your own in Brighton, where I live. How can people like me live our best lives if we’re splitting bills with five flatmates and arguing over the shared bathroom?

When I was a student, it was absolutely normal to share a house with other people if you weren’t living in halls. The idea someone could afford to live on their own was literally unheard of, even among the poshos who came from money. In fact, at that age you don’t want to live on your own because it’s boring.

Similarly, it was normal for young professionals to share a house with one or two other people in a similar situation, which was a big step up from a shared student house. The place was usually nicer, people had to get up in the morning so didn’t play music until 3am, and a fire in the kitchen was no longer a laugh. People shared mainly because they couldn’t afford to rent on their own but also, again, it’s a bit boring living on your own at that age. I knew nobody who lived on their own when they took their first job, and bear in mind I’m talking about graduate engineers here. I was the exception when I briefly rented a place on my own in Liverpool which turned out to be a complete dump, so I high-tailed it back to my girlfriend’s house in Manchester which she shared with four other girls (there was one bathroom). If I remember correctly, my oldest brother shared a house in Slough when he was attempting to qualify as an accountant, and my other brother shared with his mate from back home for a few years. For people of my generation, they only started thinking of living on their own between 25-30 years of age when they either bought their first place or got into a serious relationship and they didn’t want their Friday night smooching on the sofa ruined by a housemate sitting on the armchair with his hands down his tracksuit bottoms. Quite a few people I know only stopped housesharing with friends when they moved in with a serious partner.

But in 2018 we have a barmaid who is almost certainly under 25 believing she is entitled to live on her own because, well, she wants to. Leaving aside the obvious suggestion that sharing is bad for her because she makes a rotten housemate, there is probably something deeper to all this, which I may have got a whiff of way back in 1996. The halls I stayed in during my first year at Manchester (Owens Park, as it happens; weirdos were put in Allen Hall) were fully catered, and it quickly became clear how each student had lived before starting university. I came from a boarding school and found the food to be two orders of magnitude improved from what I was used to: it was hot, there was a choice, it was actually cooked (instead of steam-heated) and there was plenty of it. Nobody who’d been to boarding school had a problem with the food at Owens Park, nor did most of the blokes. But there were a few people, mostly girls but boys as well, who weren’t used to eating collectively, even as a family. Having watched the behaviour of contemporary children, I can imagine these individuals whining and complaining they didn’t like this, that, and the other to the point they had their mother prepare their own special meal on demand for much of their childhoood. Little wonder they didn’t like canteen food when they turned up at Owens Park; I suspect the reason they didn’t go self-catered is because they didn’t know a saucepan from a rolling pin.

What this suggests to me is the university intake in 1996 came from families more wealthy than previous generations. I can’t believe too many people of my father’s generation would turn their nose up at Owens Park food, nor of anyone born much before 1975. Families would have eaten together, the menu would have been what the budget allowed for, and there would have been no choice. Mothers simply didn’t have the option to let their precious little snowflake push beef around the plate while scowling before caving in to demands for chicken nuggets and ice cream.

Similarly, most children of earlier generations would have been used to sharing a bedroom and living in a crowded house without much furniture or other comforts. I was lucky in that I had my own room for most of my teens, but the reason we had a big house was because it was plonked in the middle of a mass of fields in the extreme corner of west Wales. For many young men and women, the transition from a crowded terraced house full of kids and a tiny toilet to a shared student house would have been a big step up in terms of living conditions. Contributing to the housework would have been normal for these people since the age of 10 (not me, I was bone idle), and sharing bathrooms as normal as going to bed at night in the same room as one or two younger siblings.

However, those who are born between 1990 and 2000, as is probably the case with the Wetherspoons barmaid, have mostly grown up in what previous generations would have thought relative luxury. Almost all will have had their own bedroom, some their own bathroom, and the house will have been warm, comfortable, quiet, full of food, and with the Sky package on the 42″ TV paid for by someone else. Going from this to a shared house where slugs parade through the kitchen each night, the bathroom sink is permanently blocked, and everyone must pay for the heating is going to be a step down, without question. But moreover, anyone who’s grown up in a big house with one or two children is going to be less accustomed to communal living than someone who had three or four siblings and lived in a terrace. Add to that the sense of entitlement of a medieval lord and an overall unpleasant character, and it’s hardly surprising that some people can’t handle sharing a house. It’s another example of how a rather large number of today’s young adults seem utterly ill-equipped to deal with the world as it is. I blame state education and the parents.

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Really Dangerous

Via a reader, this story:

A publisher has said it will stop selling a GCSE textbook after it was found to contain stereotypes about Caribbean families.

The paragraph in the sociology of families section of the book reads: “In Caribbean families, the fathers and husbands are largely absent and women assume the most responsibility in childrearing.

Is this true?

The lone parent charity Gingerbread says that in families of Black or minority ethnic backgrounds, 21% are single parent families compared with 16% nationally. The parent’s gender is not stated.

Not quite “largely absent”, then. Anyway:

People on social media have called the text “racist”.

Of course.

Tamu Thomas is from Motherhood Reconstructed, which celebrates black British mothers.

I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if you were a black child, sitting in class and reading a statement like that.

I suppose it depends on whether the child is in the 21% cohort who has no father at home.

“I do acknowledge that the number of families with absent fathers is higher in the black community, proportionally. But when something is put forward as fact like that without explaining the historical reasons why that might be the case, without any context, that’s really dangerous.”

What historical reasons would they be, then?

“If we had an educational system that actually studied and analysed the black experience, including the impact of the slave trade and racism in society, it would be different,” Tamu says.

So it’s okay to say, quite correctly, that children in Caribbean families are more likely to grow up without a father – but only if slavery and racism are to blame. Now slavery ended in the Caribbean in 1834; I confess I’d quite like to attend a class explaining why this is the cause of men abandoning children they fathered in the past ten years or so.

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Kavanaugh, Sex, and Alcohol

There’s an argument raging in the US at the moment over whether Brett Kavanaugh lied in front of the Senate Committee when he said he’d never “blacked out” from drinking. While Kavanaugh openly admitted to drinking lots of beer, he maintained he’d never blacked out in the sense he can’t remember a thing about what he might have done. The media, egged on by Democrats, are wheeling out articles saying this can’t be true, and that heavy drinking inevitably results in blackouts even if you’re unaware you had one.

It’s best to assume the Democrat-media alliance is just saying whatever suits its cause at this point, but reading some of the commentary it sounds like teenage boys discussing sex, i.e. they don’t really know what they’re on about. Anyone who’s been around drinkers, of has drunk heavily themselves, know it affects people differently, and different drinks affect the same person differently. I have an Irish mate who would start fighting if he drank brandy; Bundaberg rum seems to have a similar effect on many Queenslanders. Some people get very aggressive and nasty when drunk, others soppy and affectionate. Some go quiet, others can’t shut up. I know a French lady who, when she’s had a few too many, insists on speaking English, a language she doesn’t know.

Now I reckon I’ve drunk as much if not more than Brett Kavanaugh, thanks to my hanging out with Russians and living on Sakhalin Island for four years. True, he’s probably drunk a lot more beer than I have but I’ve been on vodka and whisky binges at various parties which I’m surprised I survived. When I drink to excess I start to babble nonsense, not that anyone who knows me will notice the difference. But at some point my stomach really, really starts to hurt and I need to throw up, which I often do by sticking my fingers down my throat. Then the pain subsides and, if it’s a really big night, I keep drinking. I recall one night in a club in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk when a Russian I didn’t like challenged me to a drinking competition, glass for glass, and he was buying. I’m not sure who won, but I stayed in the game by running to the toilet and puking up after each glass. Yeah, I wasn’t at my most classy back then.

The point is, despite how much I’ve drunk, I’ve never blacked out or lost my memory. Eventually my stomach can’t handle any more drink and I have to stop, but I can always walk (if a little unsteadily) and find my way home, and although my memory is a bit fuzzy over who said what I always remember the basics. There is no chance I could drink so much I’d not remember sexually assaulting someone, and if I drank to my capacity I’d not even be able to mount such an assault. It’s therefore a complete falsehood to say Brett Kavanaugh’s heavy beer-drinking in college would lead to blackouts. Sure he might pass out once he’s in bed, but that’s not the same thing. Nobody assaults anyone while passed out. And while some people might experience blackouts, not everyone does.

Other than the obvious politically-driven malicious smear, what this reveals is America’s puritanical attitude to alcohol consumption. The drinking age in the US is 21, an age at which most are finishing college. Some American college campuses are situated in dry counties, meaning the students have to sneak booze into their dorm rooms as if they’re 15 years old and living in a boarding school. By contrast, British students are expected to get smashed at university, and if excessive drinking in college was a barrier to holding high office in your fifties then candidates would be thin on the ground. Actually, we’d probably be left only with Theresa May who I reckon would have made far better politician had she spent her student days getting wrecked down at the Union bar. Now Barack Obama is known to have smoked weed and snorted cocaine in college, and nobody said anything. This is mostly explained by the fact that the media would have glossed over Saint Obama sacrificing small children in his dorm room, but it’s also indicative that in America the chattering classes consider taking drugs less sinful than drinking. Weed is slowly being legalised across the US, and discussions on legalising drugs are a permanent feature among Americans who lean towards libertarianism. But when was the last time someone proposed lowering the drinking age? In fact, New York raised the drinking age from 19 to 21 in 1985.

What the Kavanaugh debacle also reveals is America’s rather puritanical attitude towards sex. There’s something about sex which a lot of Americans find rather icky; the flip side of this is the degenerates who go on and on about sex and flaunt their sexual practices openly with the intention of shocking everyone else. Both would seem rather odd to a Frenchman or Italian, and even the more reserved Brits find Americans’ obsession with the sexual proclivities of their leaders a bit strange. It’s hard to imagine the Monica Lewinsky scandal happening in Europe, at least not to the point where the entire country is clutching its collective pearls over a blow-job. That’s not to excuse Clinton’s behaviour towards an intern, but it’s significant that it was allegations of sexual misconduct which landed him in trouble.

It’s unlikely that a senior figure in European politics would find himself clobbered by accusations that he drank too much in college and made a clumsy attempt to get a girl’s clothes off in high-school. But in the US, the combination of alcohol and sex resonates in a way which turns the middle classes into puritans, who then pass moral judgement. This is why the attacks on Kavanaugh have been so effective.

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