From playful and fun, to politically correct: Censoring Roald Dahl

Roald Dahl books, nationally revered and loved by kids everywhere, are having lots of alterations made to them by woke, politically correct editors who want to appease snowflake adults.  Roald Dahl, nationally revered and loved by kids (lots of whom are also adults now), is also dead and unable to speak out against the censorship being placed on his books.

I am against censorship in books and I am against banning books; sanitising them isn’t too far off. There are books and authors whose writing I despise – but I don’t believe in rewriting or banning them. Even if it is Salman Rushdie.

It seems to me that people would rather pull the wool over their children’s eyes than use ‘offensive’ language as an opportunity to explain the real world to them; the real world which, might I add, is a lot worse than how Dahl portrayed it. And let’s be very honest, the reason we love those books so much is because that language is all around us; it’s playful and it’s descriptive and it’s something we understand. I’m sorry you don’t like the words ‘ugly’ and ‘attractive’, but they are adjectives that exist nonetheless. It makes no sense to censure the use of the word ‘ugly’ when it is being used to describe characters whose entire story is based on the fact that they are ugly (both inside and out). How do you rewrite that? Not to go all Hopkins-Clarkson-Morgan, but I don’t understand why we need gender-neutral terms in the books either. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why ‘Cloud-men’ is more offensive than ‘Cloud-people’. Why is the word ‘man’ offensive? Men and women, boys and girls, exist; this fact shouldn’t offend anyone, regardless of their own beliefs about gender. Are we going to rewrite every character in every book as gender-neutral? Must we rewrite Harry Potter as the person who lived? Read more

(Anti) Feminism, part 3 – The Phenomenon of the ‘Pick-Me’

 

 

Ah yes. We have reached the end of this angry rant with my favourite topic.

Not least because I am, by the standards of Twitter’s feminists, a big fat, giant, massive pick-me.

I don’t believe pick-me exists in the Oxford dictionary, but by and large it refers to a woman who doesn’t hate men (and vice-versa, but I can only speak from the perspective of a straight woman).

You defend men, believe they have feelings and should be looked after the way women are? Pick me! You want to look after your man; you want to show him love, cook for him, and do nice things for him? Absolutely a pick me, disgusting! For shame! You like men for their personality and their character, rather than their money, clothes, possessions etc? Ew, I hope he picks you sis. You don’t want all men to die? On God, we gon’ get someone to pick you.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? That’s because it is.

The only anti-pick-me narrative I agree with is that of a woman actively bashing other women for the approval of men. Being snide, bitchy, and unnecessarily rude just to get a few laughs out of men; laughing when a man hurts a woman who has done nothing wrong; supporting an abuser just because you think he’s sexy. Purposely putting other women down and trying to make yourself look better. That’s a real ‘please pick me, I’m different to the other basic bitches. I’m so much cooler and better than them, please pick me, they’re all ugly ogres and I’m so different to the rest; you’ll never find another girl like me, I promise you that. You’ll be thinking about me when you’re with her lol I’m so different, I leave a mark on people.

But obviously, people have watered this down to suit their own agenda, and now pick-me generally refers to a woman who apparently does and says things as a mating call, because we obviously don’t have our own brains, and everything we do in life is solely in the quest to attain male approval. Which is very telling for the people who use the phrase. What a phenomenon.

I want to dissect it and destroy it.

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Controversial opinon: Religion [Shitpost]

Something this depraved is not a product of a loving god.

I’m gonna talk about religion; not just about my religion specifically, so I don’t want anybody in the comments asking me why I’m not condemning ISIS. That ain’t my job, bish. I’m talking about religion generally: the whole concept of God, of divine books, of the afterlife.
I am struggling with religion.
Haram police, look away, because I’m about to reveal something: sometimes I wish I was Atheist. The complete hecking truth is that sometimes I wish that I could believe in nothing. I wish I believed that once we die, we’re just left to rot in the ground and turn into fertiliser because that makes everything so much easier. But I can’t. I wish I could be left to my own devices and know that everything I’m doing is a product of my own decisions and who I’ve grown into, but I can’t. I know that I’m living based on a book, based on a religion that I so strongly believe in that I couldn’t escape if I wanted to. I so strongly believe in it, yet I don’t follow it completely. I hate feeling like I’m scared to die simply because of what happens afterwards. Death itself doesn’t bother me. I’d have probably killed myself a long time ago if it wasn’t a straight ticket to hell, so I guess I gotta thank religion for that.
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After all you're not my type [Books I'll never finish]

I get an influx of followers and then writers block decides to hit me bad! Amazing. But here I am, being the literary person I am and talking about books. Books that I hate. Books that I want to love. Books that I love but can’t finish. As my bookshelf grows, the percentage of unread books increases. And every now and then, my eye will catch a particular novel that I’ve tried, tried, and tried again to read, and just couldn’t. It haunts me.
Let’s talk about my bedroom for a sec. Oo er. I had books spilling out of my cupboard, falling off my desk, on the floor, in the corner, under the bed. Everywhere. Since then a lot of them have been moved to a sickasfrick bookshelf, which means I have more space for when I buy more books that I don’t intend to ever read!
I’ll show you my setup one day. It’s pretty weird for a blogger. No minimalism, no clean fresh look, no millennial pink. No candles, succulents, or quotes. Just a poster of Senna and a framed Patrick Bateman. That’s me. An improvement after a wall plastered with Kerrang and Metal Hammer pages, and various posters from HMV and Camden Market. But I digress. Again. Here are a bunch of books I’ve never been able to finish; please bear in mind that I am a Chuck Palahniuk girl through and through, so cut me some slack when I’m unable to finish a romance. Thanks, let’s begin x
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