Humor

Jussie Smollett told authorities he was attacked on January 29 by two men who were ‘yelling out racial and homophobic slurs.’ He went on to claim that one attacker had put a noose around his neck and poured an unknown chemical substance on him. Since this was first reported, so-called ‘evidence’ has emerged to suggest that the attack was possibly staged, with Smollett knowing his ‘attackers’ before the event, and that he even went so far as to pay them. Now, the drama surrounding this seems a complex one, but it’s really very simple. Even if he did stage the attack himself, it’s still valid. Jussie Smollett is a busy man. He does not have time to wait around idly for genuine homophobic racists to jump him in the street.

Like all true romantics, Cockburn is not a Valentine’s Day enthusiast. He was, however, amused to find his progressive nieces messing around on his computer, giggling over Valentines memes they were making for their equally woke crushes. For those readers wondering how to woo a leftie, apparently these cards are all the rage on Twitter. Simply find out your beloved’s favorite politician, print one out, fill it in, hand it to your sweetheart, and remember – the best word to describe your political views is ‘moderate’. May Cupid’s arrow fly true.

Dear Gillette, I watched your latest advert and I must say, it’s a good start. However, I have concerns that it wasn’t patronizing enough. In order to get through to the majority of men, you need to really talk down to them, treat them as if they were tiny children, incapable of understanding the world around them. Only then will you gain their trust and respect. To this end, I have taken the liberty of writing the outline for your next advert and I am willing to be featured in it (I will send you an invoice along with my PayPal details). Gillette Advert – Men Are Awful (working title) We open on a group of adult men playing some sport or other, Basketsoccer or whatever it is they do. In the corner we see a six-year-old girl looking vulnerable but also brave and defiant.

Yesterday morning while visiting friends in London, I decided to take a stroll down to Pret A Manger for a spinach and avocado protein pot. On the way there, I found myself in the middle of some kind of demonstration. An intimidating gang of white men (along with a few women who had no doubt been threatened by their violent beer-swilling husbands into being there, and some people of color who had probably wandered into the demonstration by accident) were standing outside Burger King shouting disgusting pro-Brexit slogans, demanding ‘democracy’ and holding up signs expressing the need to ‘GET ON WITH IT’. These men were obviously white supremacists or why else would they be so vocal in their support of Brexit?

I’m incredibly honored to represent the working people of the real world, the 14th District of New York, in Congress. As a democratic socialist, it’s always been my dream to do real work and make real change happen, especially if it means bringing down capitalism through ironic dance videos. Because I really understand what it’s like for ordinary people, the nurses and bus drivers, the math coaches and Zumba trainers, the young people with student debt who want to start an organic salsa workshop in Brooklyn. As a Congressperson of color, my office has a budget of $1.2 million, and my salary is only $174,000 a year. So how do I get an apartment?

As a genderqueer Muslim atheist who identifies as black, I am often abused by bigots (usually white cis males) who bombard me with hate speech such as: ‘What the fuck does “transrace” mean?’, ‘How can you be a Muslim and an atheist, that makes no sense!’ and ‘Sort your hair out you stupid hipster twat, you look like a fucking nonce.’ That last one was said to me by my father, a boorish brute of a man, who would often make scathing remarks at me as I was growing up, and even went so far as to buy me a 32GB iPhone one Chr*stm*s when he knew I wanted the 64GB one. That kind of abuse leaves a mark. White cis males have a lot to apologize for when it comes to the current state of the world.

I met Titania McGrath at the Genderfree Silent Poetry Class I used to attend on a Thursday evening at the Basement Bar in York. I remember her standing out from the rest of the artistes because of the amount of screaming she did. Since her first draft of ‘My Ovaries Are The Devil’s Kidneys’ which she wrote back in 2013, her work has come on in leaps and bounds, and improved with every court summons. More recently she has found her niche on Twitter. She inspires thousands of followers, or dare I say, disciples, with a heady mixture of defiant slam poetry and staunch feminist views. Her poems are raw, unbridled, angry, and often nonsensical. Like Lewis Carroll meets Quentin Tarantino.