Censoring Dahl & Naff Disco Choons

 I know I'm a bit behind the 8-ball posting this NOW, but I've been thinking about the actions taken by the publishers Puffin to the classic Roald Dahl books to bring them into line with modern-day sensibilities. Hang on, I might have typed that wrong. Perhaps what I should have written is this: arse-hattery carried out by some numpties in charge of a publishing house to cater to a trend of pussy-arsed sookery. 

This less than admirable accomplishment was achieved by hiring sensitivity readers, which is apparently the polite term for pussy-arsed sooks who can't read for context or nuance, and who have no functioning resilience to cope with the world. They do not know the power of the correct adjective, by which I mean the Oompa-Loompas are now 'small' and not 'tiny'. August Gloop is no longer 'fat'. He is described as 'enormous', but the word 'fat' was removed. Apparently, someone hit the global search-and-replace function and eliminated the word 'fat' from every original occurrence in the book. 

Seriously, what ails you people? August Gloop is FAT. That's Eff Ay Tee FAT. Fat. He's a fat-fat-the-water rat. He eats constantly, and furthermore, eats the wrong food constantly. He pigs into unhealthy fattening foods, and whilst I do not claim to hold any credentials that would qualify me as a dietitian, I have been around the sun enough times to know that if you binge and gorge on fattening foods, you're going to end up fucking fat, okay? Deal with it. 

Yesterday, I was reminded of the Joe Tex disco song Ain't Gonna Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman). I'm adopting a vulture-like crouch of embarrassment as I type this: I - shhhhhh! - like that song. It has some great funk delivered with a gravelly voice juxtaposed with the naffest concept imaginable: this dude is at the disco and finds himself the unwilling partner of some she-behemoth who wants to do the then-fashionable dance The Bump. Being corpulent and enthusiastic, she delivers a bump of a force that apparently sends him airborne, whereupon he crashes down and almost breaks his hip. Don't judge me. It's funny, okay? Anyway, these sensitivity readers would be screeching for a red pen as they slash through the lyrical fat-shaming like sugar cane cockies going through a crop. 

But on the bright side, I have just read Penguin and Puffin have backed down after the backlash. As for hiring sensitivity readers, why not just have a disclaimer that the work contains material that does not align with the company's cultural inclusive values and/or may contain material that could be in today's world be considered culturally insensitive? 

If you're reading something that is giving you the icks, either put it down or learn to contextualise. Lave the original art alone! Would you draw eyebrows on the Mona Lisa because it might upset people who don't have eyebrows? Pffffft! 

The Macerated Arse Cheeks of one Member

 I don't have it in front of me, and wouldn't sully my fingers with anything he'd touched, but I'm guessing Peter Poulos MP's To-Do list reads something like: Chemist - Betadine and opsite bandages. Why would Poulos need Betadine and opsite bandages, you ask? Well, it's to treat his macerated arse cheeks. I am aware nobody wants to contemplate Poulos' arse cheeks, but they have been chewed and gnawed to pulpy shreds by his own pathetic actions in circulating nude pictures of a political candidate in 2018, in an attempt to discredit her. Yes, his nasty stunt is now biting him on the arse like a row of frenetic Pac-mans, all going chomp-chomp-chomp like the clappers. 

I have read numerous calls for Poulos to be charged under revenge porn laws, but from what I can tell, the pictures that were circulated were in the public domain, having been featured in a Penthouse magazine pictorial in the 1980s. It's unlikely the woman concerned owns the rights to those images so therefore had no 'consent' to give in their circulation. She's moved on, going so far as to claim she and Poulos are mates. Madam, if you're reading this, take it from me: Poulos is NOT your mate. He's a grubby backstabber out for himself. 

Poulos probably hasn't broken the law. However, he has shown himself to be a venal, malicious, sexist, nasty, spiteful shit stain in the underpants of humanity. He apologised for making a 'regrettable mistake'. Poulsie, let me clarify something for you. This is not a regrettable mistake. A regrettable mistake is misreading a recipe and putting in one tablespoon of chilli powder instead of the one teaspoon sought by the recipe. (As an aside, I've done this and it's not fun). This was a vile and calculated attempt to destroy a woman's reputation in the pettiest way possible. I'm guessing your then boss didn't have the right stuff for a deserved meritorious win, so you chose to attack another candidate using the most disgusting weapon available to you: The Reputation Destroyer. You thought you could get her to back down by attacking her for having the unholy temerity to make her own choice and pose nude in a magazine. Whether you agree with her actions or not is immaterial; her actions were LEGAL. 

I'm trying to establish how old you are, but if you're in my age bracket, you might think of a ditty from high school: Centerfold by J Geils Band. You remind me of the incel-like narrator who takes the high moral ground over someone who's decided, for whatever reason, to partake in a nude pictorial. The narrator of this song admits at the end he's going to buy the magazine (hypocrite!). I don't know you well enough, but I would not be surprised if you jerk off to the material created by the people whom you seem quick to criticise. If you do find arousal in visual erotica, that's no issue to me. What I do have issue with is your hypocrisy and utter nastiness. 

Anyway, your disgusting behaviour didn't work, did it? The woman got voted in and now everybody just thinks you're a spiteful dingleberry swinging around in the hairs that surround Satan's butt crack. 

Slut-shaming as a weapon is ineffectual, as it should be. Women can make choices and you can just suck it. 

You're not fit to hold office Kindly resign. And flatten the edges of those opsite bandages so they don't peel away too quickly. 

The Urine is Heating

 Okay, I'd been reading about it on Twitter, but with uni, assessments, and work, I hadn't had the chance to view first screening or the repeat. Anyway, let's hear it for iView, where I have just finished viewing last Monday night's episode of Four Corners, you know, the one that explored the practices in the Opus Dei run schools Tangara and Redfield. 

Assuming the veracity of the content is reliable, then what can I say? Holl-lee fuck comes to mind. What is wrong with a school and teaching body that would willingly feed blatant misinformation to impressionable students? The funding given to those schools, who discourage girls from receiving the vaccine against HPV on the grounds it will encourage promiscuity, is far more obscene than any of the pornography they warn against (porn apparently burns holes in the brain, y'see). 

If any of you wank-socks who determine Opus Dei school policy are reading this, can I just point out a few things?

1. I'm not a neurologist, but I'm pretty confident that watching pornography will not cause holes to materialise in the brain like tired old rubber perforating in the sun. Were this true, there would be an awful lot of people getting around with brains like Swiss cheese. 

2. I am not a pharmacologist or endocrinologist, but I'm similarly confident the HPV vaccine does not contain an ingredient that renders the vaccinated lass a raving nympho with a sexual appetite of voracity and ferocity usually associated with stud stallions that have been given a dose of Viagra. It just doesn't happen, okay? 

This is a potentially life-saving vaccine and you're worried some young women might interpret it as carte blanche to bang a few dudes? Stop getting your information and logic from Barnaby Joyce (who opposed Gardasil on the same grounds), but more importantly, STOP POLICING PEOPLE'S SEXUALITY! 

I'm currently working towards a Bachelor of Education (Secondary), and along with teaching English in a fun and efficient manner, I want to create a classroom where the students feel safe and respected. So, guess what I WON'T be doing? That's right, I will not be having the students pass around a piece of sticky tape, such exercise being underpinned by the notion that just as the tape loses its efficacy and value and becomes dirty with excessive handling; so too do girls who are handled by more than one sexual partner. There are better ways to teach a metaphor, and those ways are not potentially harmful and confusing to the psyche of young people. 

I guess it's a tired trope to whinge about the funding these schools receive, but a few years ago, my son asked could he borrow my tired, battered, loved copy of To Kill a Mockingbird because his school (a State school that doesn't teach this poison and respects student diversity) did not have sufficient copies for the students. The thought that places who compare kids to sticky tape and teach misinformation receive serious coin just, to put it bluntly, boils my piss.