Posts by James Dunne
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"Aha, I tricked you into thinking I'm an idiot and a rapist! You have been trolled, good madam or sir! I bet you feel quite the fool, knowing that you took exception to things I said and did, not knowing that I was not sincere in my beliefs! Truly, I am the victor in this exchange."
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Perhaps it would be more constructive, bearing in mind the immutability of the past etc., to talk about what might be done going forward rather than quibbling over how many 2010s boofheads can dance on the end of a sexist pin from the 1980s.
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I wonder if more mightn't be done to encourage men to back up their friends when they're intervening. I've defused a fair few iffy situations simply by standing close behind the person being picked on, and it doesn't necessarily involve flying in fists a-blazing.
In a semi-related context, I always thought the Ghost Chips campaign missed a trick by not acknowledging the "yeah, just crash here" voice as a legend too.
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Hard News: Fix up, young men, in reply to Tim Darlington,
I think this has to be it. Police action is one thing, but if the young gentleman in question was now facing a lifetime ban from every major New Zealand music venue and festival, along with his friends, one rather thinks that twelve Billy Mavericks would have had a different effect. And if they hadn't, that would hardly have been a loss.
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It's the total lack of consequences that grates with me. Nothing will happen to these guys. They won't get charged with disorderly or offensive behaviour. They won't be banned from every venue in the country for the rest of their lives. They'll get a couple days of the chattering classes clucking at them and then they'll go back to having oafish fun at other people's (for which read, women) expense.
And people wonder what 'rape culture' is.
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I was basically chanting the first verse of Vitai Lampada through the last over.
There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night --
Ten to make and the match to win --
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote --
'Play up! play up! and play the game!' -
Speaker: An Open Letter To David Cunliffe, in reply to jh,
Yes, clearly Labour's problem is that it isn't racist enough.
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Stud was starting to feel an unpleasant tightness in his head. Suddenly he remembered that misandrists had injected a microscopic bomb into his head which would detonate if he was ever a participant in failing the Bechdel test.
The tightness resolved itself into a ticking. Stud realised that the bomb was about to detonate.
"But the Bechdel test isn't even an accurate assessment of whether a particular piece is adequately feminist or not," he thought desperately, "_Sucker Punch_ passes the Bechdel test, for God's sake."
This was a mistake. The only things misandrists hated more than white men was God. Stud felt the bomb tick ever faster, as Clint, Captain Underpants, Tatiana and the Literary Shoggoth looked at him quizzically. Inspiration!
"Wait a second," shouted Stud, "There's no global misandrist conspiracy! How on earth could misandrists have planted a bomb in my head when they only exist in the fevered imagination of MRAs and Redditors?"
But it was too late.
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Stud reflexively tightened his grip on his pistol, his eyes flashing with anger.
"You should not refer to a woman as an object, Clint. That is very offensive and contrary to modern thought on the issue," he ground out.
Clint downed his martini in one and jumped to his feet, his face contorting with rage.
"You are one to talk, Stud. Your track record with women in that regard leaves your position akin to that of a man who can only throw stones who has, through the exigencies of the modern economy, been forced to take residence in a glass house. And besides, you knew very well that it was a figure of speech and in fact my views on gender relations are highly advanced," he snapped.
Stud smiled inwardly. He knew that he had Clint on the back foot, because whenever Clint's modern views on gender relations were challenged in a way that exposed a weakness in him, he finished whatever drink he happened to have nearest at the time. It was well for Clint that the KGB had an excellent healthcare plan, but nevertheless Stud knew that Clint's liver was a toxic ruin and the KGB had told him that either he could update his views on gender politics or stop drinking. And Clint, having studied in the 1980s, could do neither.
It was time to press the advantage.
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Hard News: The perilous birth of the…, in reply to Russell Brown,
The biggest problem was the first of the late lamented Temporary Class Drug Notices was due to expire in August with no mechanism for a further renewal, I think.