Predictable much?
Brendan O’Neill. Spiked. The Presidents Club. Calm down.
Moral outrage…outrage entrepreneurs…raging loudly against the wicked…Britain’s chattering class…the utterly non-shocking news…sassy young women who early in life use their nous and looks to earn a buck…not the most decorous of annual affairs…pink-hued Guardian wannabe…posh fury with Brexit…to jump on the trending bandwagon…grovelling apologies…heads on platters…arrogant instinct…every little thing that displeases them.
…freedom of association…mixing with whomever they choose…a less than PC fashion…whiter than white…the new moral guardians…infantilised the women…the possibly sad or old-fashioned men…hapless, slave-like creatures needing to be saved by the middle-class, clever women…the skills necessary to deal with dickheads…today’s media women…national scandal…men touched their knees…the political and media classes…safe-spaced and prudish…
Every fucking cliché in the book innit. They don’t need Brendan, they could just chop up his old columns and paste the bits in.
I think they used a blender and just stuck together the fragments that landed face up.
Perhaps if Brendan O’Neill had to deal with being a woman for a day or two, he might figure out why there is such outrage, and that it is less about moral prudishness than about regarding women as human beings – or would he be one of those women who write tiresome tomes about how much they like being hit on and felt up, so the women who don’t like it are just being silly?