Bit of a loose end day today on the run down to the festering season. Just had some good career news from both Stepkids. They’ve both had promotions and pay rises recently, so I’m feeling fairly light of heart.
Whilst decking our modest hall prior to our planned low key Xmas break I found myself wondering whatever happens to Social Justice Warriors as they age? The majority are young, highly political, idealistic and energetic in their criticism, ostracism and even real life harassment of people they disagree with. To them, all appears Racist, elitist or sexist, and God help you if you’re not their preferred skin colour or sex.
But what happens to these latter-day Wolfie Smiths when they actually try to grow up? Do they hang up the keyboard, learn to wear business clothes and embrace the culture they once hated so virulently? I remember one guy from college who was a long haired extreme left winger until he discovered the joys of capitalism in the late 1980’s. Last heard of in 2005 on his second trophy wife and buying a new Porsche Carrera. So it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility.
Yet what actually happens to people who have boasted about being a ‘social activist’ on their Twitter, Facebook, Tumbler or Insterwossname feeds? Nowadays it’s well known that the HR departments of many companies routinely vet prospective employees by checking their social media profiles, but how does that affect their recruitment? I put the question to the Staff Igor at the Bill Sticker Institute of Asking Awkward Bloody Questions.
“Dunno Botth. What I do know ith thoth thothial activisthts are jutht a pain in the bums. No thenth of humour. Did you know one came in yethterday and told me to check my priviledgeth?” I was told.
“How’s that again?” I replied, wiping spit off my sou’wester. “Would you mind dropping the lisp.”
“Thorr- sorry Boss. She told me I was too male to be a proper evil assistant.” He complained. “Said I had to cut off my genitalth and wear a dress.” He added. “I told her the whole transgender thing was so last year and I’d changed back because I didn’t like it much. Aunt Igorina wasn’t happy with me because I kept borrowing her best dresses and getting them taken in at the hips.” He replied ruefully “If you ask me I think the activists are just professional pains in the bum. No sense of humour because they actually think what they’re doing is socially useful. No wonder thome famous comedians have stopped playing colleges.”
“And are these activists useful?” I enquired.
“They’re a bloody nuisance, pardon my Quirmian.” Igor said. “Always trying to shut people up. Po-faced bunch of puritanical perverts.”
“What I mean is; is what they do of benefit to the rest of humanity?” I reiterated.
“Only if you’re in their preferred minority group.” Igor replied candidly, fixing me with a look that said that whilst he might be in a minority, no-one in their right mind should mess with an Igor. At least if you don’t want to wake up with your nose on upside down. Especially when it starts raining and you’ve forgotten your hat. Decent bunch, Igors. Great with the old cut ‘n paste surgery but with a funny sense of humour.
“Yes, but what happens to them when they finally finish college and have to get a job?” I asked.
“Local authorith. Thothial Work. Non-profithts. Academia. Politicth. Living off social security or parents money. Prothethional protethting.” Igor replied. Thtealing Chihuahuas off peopleth front porcheth. Thupermarket thelf thtackerth.” He added darkly.
“You’re lisping again. It’s going to take me hours to get dry.” I complained.
“Tho- sorry Boss.”
“No problem” I replied, thanking Igor for handing me a freshly laundered towel. “So what happens to them, these Fascist anti-racists and Racist anti-sexists?”
“Thome- sorry some, get low level jobth, thorry Botth, can’t drop the listhp, it’th cultural.”
“Along with the extra thumbs and fingers you mean?”
“Prethithely.” Igor grinned back at me. Which was a bit disconcerting as he’s experimenting with his teeth at the moment. Don’t ask. It’s too weird. Let’s just say people should not have triangular dentition, no matter how good that type of tooth is for cutting gristle. I feel sorry for the Sharkth – damn! He’s got me at it now.
“So they’re ‘B’ ark people?” I said.
“Got it.” Right, I’m going to go off to have a good long shower and dry off. There are some things I’m happy to do in the spirit of enquiry, but in future I’ll ask my faithful crew of Igors to simply write their answers down.