I sort of pictured it kind of like how if you were to break down a door you’d lean in with your shoulder first. Face first into a door would result in, not the door breaking off its hinges, but you waking up with tweeting birds and a lump the size of an egg on your head.
(PS – what was she carrying? I totalling get the hair and the shoes, but what paper does that office use?!!!!)
’ism’s are a human construct, the result of “civilisation”. The competition to be the best is genetic at its root. Be the best, ensure your genes are passed on.
Now let’s put ‘ism’ labels on:Ageism – women over 45 are useless = lower breeding opportunityRacism – wrong tribe, don’t want to interbreed and weaken our genetic lineageSexism – way too many to cover here, but let’s include women are the weaker sex because they are the baby bearers and need to be protected if the male’s genes are to carry forward for starters.
Oh @Tog, you forgot to mention the fact that we’re also being blamed for the lack of availability of testing by overwhelming the system, asking for “unnecessary” tests. If we asked for fewer tests, there would be more to go around!
I love the fact that there is a comment saying the left have no sense of humour almost immediately followed by a quote from Stephen Fry who is most certainly on the left side of centre. I believe what you are describing, when it comes to Left and Right, are the extremes. And they are both as bat crap crazy as the other. Politics isn’t a line, it’s more like an arc forming 315 degrees of a circle – move too close to either end and you approach the gap where anarchy and world-burn-observers live. Except the degrees are getting smaller and the gap is getting wider…
Doesn’t work in a playground, but I give my 5 year old niece 5 minutes by actually showing her the clock on the wall and telling her that when the big hand is on 3, it’s time to stop. She doesn’t need to know time beyond that (she does – her mum says she’s so bright!) and it works. Sometimes she’s even told me when the big hand is on 3!
I sort of pictured it kind of like how if you were to break down a door you’d lean in with your shoulder first. Face first into a door would result in, not the door breaking off its hinges, but you waking up with tweeting birds and a lump the size of an egg on your head.
(PS – what was she carrying? I totalling get the hair and the shoes, but what paper does that office use?!!!!)