HOW TO END THE GLASS CEILING

Ms Julie Anne Genter, Green MP and Hon Mincer, has railed against the plethora of Boring Old Men on boards and bewailed the lack of Bright Young Women, who should be there instead, making the world a far better place. There are, she says, too many Old Boys, messing up the world with their Old Boys Network.

But obviously she's not quite up with The Plot. Because she's also said, 'Trans Women are Women'.

Aha! That is the solution to the problem of Boring Old Boys on Boards. Because now that we've all
been re-educated into the wunnerful knowledge that gender is not between your legs, it is all in
your head--and that we all have What-If On The Brain, and that all that sex-stuff is fluid, and that we
are whatever we say we are...

So all that needs to be done is for all those Boring Old Board Boys to declare themselves Bright
Young Board Girls (sealing it with shiny new birth-certificates from the Department of Just-Is; see their homepage under Family), and, hey presto! the Glass Ceiling is gone for ever.

Done and dusted. QED. O Frabjous Day!

Oh! The tongue is stuck in the cheek. 'Woe is me, I am undone.. for I dwell amongst a people of ... lips...' (let those who know the reference see the point). In this day and age the mockery of insanity has to be stuck in gear permanently.

IT'S OUTRAGEOUS

I am outraged (that means enraged beyond rage). Why? Well I've joined the herd of the furious and
have chosen to be outraged, and have Therefore dedicated myself to finding something every week to
be outraged about. And this week, this week, this pestiferous week there was NOTHING!

I searched and searched. NOTHING!! Can you believe that? A dedicated seeker after outrage, deprived
of outrageous satisfaction. An addict deprived of his outrageous fix. Aaarrrgghh!!

Last week there was a really good one. I found out that modern tiddlywinks are 0.02 of a gram
lighter than the good old ones. I was outraged for a whole three days about that. Very satisfying.

The previous week  I found that road markings are an inch shorter than they used to be. It took me
four days of outrage to get over that. Very, very satisfying.

Sometimes I get a whole seven days of glorious outrage. That is very, very, very satisfying.

Like the week I found about a secret society that is not deeply in love with marmalade cats whose
stripes go anti-clockwise. I worked up a whole seven days of outrage that such people could exist in
a civilised society, and that their mothers were not spayed at birth. That was one of the best weeks
ever.

But this week, nothing. NOTHING!

That is outrageous. AHA! Something! I can be outraged that there's nothing to be outraged about. O
frabjous day!

MACARONI MADNESS

English is English. One of its excellent features is that it does not have all that mess of diacritical marks: accents, macrons, diaereses, etc.,--all that above-letter clutter that infests European languages.

When the English missionaries to New Zealand did their excellent work of turning stone-age Maori into a written language, they, wisely, developed a form that took care of the pronunciation without that mess. Vowels were to be pronounced as in Italian and consonants as in English. That is simple, very easy to use, and it stood us in good stead for about two hundred years

Until now. Until the insanity of 'political correctness' began its normal tyrannical work and started splashing macrons all over the place. The 'reason'? To make everyone pronounce Maori words as the Maoris do--or did, which means as they were assumed to have done. (And, yes, the plural of Maori is Maoris: that is English, and when speaking English those who are true to it form plurals in the English way; when speaking Maori they should be formed in the Maori way; when speaking Hebrew in the Hebrew way; when speaking Russian in the Russian way; etc.; etc.)

But zillions of English-speaking people are pronouncing Maori words as they pronounce English ones, and the tyrannical PC regime want to change that. And of course they are. Every language when it adopts words from other languages, quite properly, keeps its own culture and ways of pronouncing words. Trying to force people to be faithless to their language and culture is tyranny, it is PC thuggery, which in this case means forcing us to vandalise English with macaroni graffiti.

Even worse, in the case of the Maori macron tyranny, is that macrons very often are not in the fonts that people want to use on their computers, so the operating system replaces letters with a question mark or a blank or something else. The Ugly Sisters cannot force their feet into Cinderella's glass slipper.

English speakers should ignore the thuggery and vandalism of the 'politically correct' (which is never politic and never correct), and refuse to be thuggerised. The word 'Maori'  and all other Maori words being used in English is perfect without that macaroni madness.