Nadia and Simon

I watch YouTube a lot because it contains an incredible amount of interesting stuff, and included in that are excellent, smart people. I prefer short videos because I’ve developed a USA Today attitude, which is to say hop to it, and get to the point.

Above is New York Nadia whom I just recently discovered. She gets directly to the point, and her points are first-rate. In this video, she tells feminists not to be horses’ butts, but in nicer words.

And, as regulars here know, I am also a big fan of Simon Webb, a brilliant, English historian and author with a delightfully bushy, British mustache. I wish I could grow a Limey mustache like that, but I don’t have the upper lip for it.

Webb looks here at the sad situation in which the politically correct British government has allowed Speaker’s Corner in London, a place where anyone could speak his mind about anything, to be gagged so as not to offend the sensibilities of Mohammedans, whom the Brits have stupidly permitted to enter their once-peaceful nation in droves.

Speaker’s Corner has existed since the 19th century. Free speech reigned. Multiculturalism now reigns, and the most menacing new cultures determine what can be said, who can open his mouth. Simon’s not quite as succinct as Nadia. His videos usually last about six minutes compared to Nadia’s two or three.

In closing, here’s another of Nadia’s in which she takes to task Chicago’s Mayor Lori Lightfoot who is a black, race-obsessed lesbian in a biracial relationship, which is the PC Trifecta and therefore immune from criticism, but not to Nadia. Lightfoot is, of course, a Democrat mayor, one of the worst, which is saying something.

The leftist thugs who run YouTube regularly censor Simon Webb. I haven’t been following Nadia long enough to know if her pinpoint observations receive the same treatment.

Happy birthday, Diane

Today is my sole sibling’s birthday. She turns 80, and lives — still I imagine — in a stationary, double-wide trailer* in the Northern California town of Arcata. We have not communicated in nine years. I was the one who called it off.

Around 1955.

She was a good Big Sister in our youth, always having my back, but in her late 30s she got involved in what many consider a cult, and things went drastically downhill from there.

It’s a “therapy” cult that had a guru in New York City. He had many slavish female followers. It’s, not surprisingly, called Social Therapy, and the guru is Fred Newman, now deceased.

I often asked actual therapists whom I ran into if they had heard of Social Therapy, and no one had.

Diane was married briefly in her 20s to a guy I liked. She once said this: “He zips, flips and knows where it’s at.” This was the 1960s, and some people actually talked like that. She dumped him after a few short years, but they remained friends for a spell.

About the same time she enlisted in the cult, she decided she was a Lesbian, and her personality began a descent into fanaticism. She developed a hair-trigger personality. Her politics went hard left. She became a fan of the French writer Michel Foucault. Her guru, Newman, also has a book. My mother and I tried to read it, but it made no sense to either of us. It was utter nonsense, but it became Diane’s Bible.

She was a university English instructor through much of her 20s and 30s, but then she turned to her “therapy.” The cult runs “therapy” centers, which are actually traps, around the United States, and she co-managed one in Atlanta. She found a partner, a California woman named Roxan who was divorced with three adult children. They stayed together for decades till Roxan died about four years ago, something I learned on Facebook.

They moved from Atlanta to Arcata to be near Roxan’s family, most of whom were not overly fond of Diane. So they were two divorcees, one with kids, who had flipped to Lesbianism. I liked Roxan quite a bit. Unlike Diane, she was not explosive. She was cuddly.

Diane had a falling out with the co-manager of the cult’s Atlanta outpost, so she opened a private therapy practice that focused mostly on occupational issues, and later became a “life coach.” You may have heard of that relatively new field. It’s all the rage. Interestingly, my second ex-wife also became a “life coach” after our divorce.

I have been surrounded by female “therapists” for years. My first ex-wife is a therapist. My daughter became a therapist. And there, of course, is Diane. I wonder if she still practices. Her website remains online but looks inactive.

Until I canceled my Facebook account a few months ago, I used to look at Diane’s page where she almost daily posted “Woke” pronouncements and other leftist, PC nuttiness.

Many people mellow with age. I have. She hasn’t. And today she is 80. I wonder if someone brought her a cake.


* Which I learned via Google Street View.

Nutty gender proposals

Old, laughable, pasty-faced honkies masquerading as belligerent black folks.

Behold today’s Democrat Socialist Oh-So-Woke Party, the people I used to hang with before they went over the edge and fell into a deep, putrid pit populated by men in women’s wear and ugly women with purple hair and too-short bangs.

You likely know nothing of this telling move if you get your “news” from CNN, The New York Times, The Washington Post (“Democracy Dies in Darkness!”) and their unsavory ilk. And you are wondering … What move is that?

Nancy Pelosi, still upright at 80, has introduced rules changes for the upcoming Congress. They have to be voted on, but one wonders who will have the nerve to vote no? She wants to eliminate gender terms such as father, mother, son and daughter. All in the interest of inclusion and diversity, those unholy gods of the modern lunatic left.

But I’m just the messenger today in case you’ve not heard of this. You can read the grisly, absurd, patronizing details right here from an actual news outlet.

Next thing you know, Democrats will elect anti-American Mohammedans to Congress. Whoops! That’s already happened, you say?

Happy New Year.

Dangerous Lies indeed

I GET ADVISORIES via email about new offerings on Netflix. One arrived yesterday, a movie that debuts later this month. It’s called Dangerous Lies. I watched the trailer, which I still call the preview, and there it was again.

The ubiquitous interracial romance.

The percentage of new movies and television series these days that include interracial marriages is pretty close to 100 percent. If you’re making a movie or TV show, you’re obligated, it appears, to have a couple who do not look like one another.

There is nothing wrong with interracial marriage. I suppose I am in one because she is a tad darker than I am, plus she speaks another language, making us both interracial and cross cultural, so I have my bona fides. But Hollywood went off the deep end long ago, and it’s getting worse. It’s laughably absurd because it is not true to life.

In the real world, almost everyone marries someone of the same race. So when another movie or TV series shows up with yet another obligatory interracial romance, you just roll your eyes and think: How absolutely idiotic.

Hollywood’s intention, of course, is to convince us, by repetition, that it’s normal. It’s textbook PC indoctrination, pure and simple. But it’s far from normal.

And not just that. Every movie family also has its homosexual friends or neighbors, more often gay guys than lesbians because gay guys generally are more pleasant than lesbians. I speak from experience on that point (my sister). But the ubiquity of gay friends, both single and couples, again does not reflect reality.

Most people do not have gay friends because the gay percentage of the population is quite small. There simply are not enough of them to go around for all of us to have one or two. But in movies and TV shows, pretty much everyone has gays in their life.

But back to the interracial marriages. Their children invariably look like cute, little Barack Obamas. Light tans, very curly, big bushy hair, often with blue or green eyes and well spoken. The kids never jive talk. They are polite and lovable.

These families exist. Power to them. People have gay friends. Fine by me. But I do wish Hollywood would halt this endless, diversity propaganda.

Even so, the preview of Dangerous Lies was interesting. We’ll be watching the movie even though we’ll be rolling our eyeballs at the same time.

Come to think of it, Dangerous Lies pretty much sums it all up.

The title is a Freudian boo-boo.

interracial-couple
Rest assured that these three met just 10 minutes before the photo shoot.