Satire

I suit up most days (thank you, casual Fridays) and with the stress of New York’s walking speeds and tremendous cleanliness of its streets, the closet life of suits falls somewhere between the lifespan of a monarch butterfly and a succulent fathered by a man in his twenties, another way of saying: cherish life.So, we will call it a Tuesday of last week. I found myself either a) running from hired guns of a Memphis law firm after I had uncovered their Cayman Islands-based money laundering scheme or b) catching my pocket on the armrest of a conference room chair, when I split my dress pants down the leg.

If you put an adequate amount of effort in, you will see that racism is everywhere. I myself spend at least 30 minutes per day practicing how to interpret things white people say as racist. Thankfully, there are many other tireless activists out there who have trained their mental gymnastic skills to an impressive degree so that we may ensure that no white person gets away with saying anything we perceive to be racist. Alastair Stewart is, or should I say ‘was’ (lol), a newsreader on a British TV station. He had held this position for 40 years. As a white male, it was only a matter of time before he slipped up and revealed his hatred of brown people to the public.

‘A woman’s place is in the House and the Senate’, read the shirts assembled by slave labor in Myanmar, the messaging likely dreamed up by graduates of a small liberal arts school whose annual tuition would make a generous stimulus package for a city in any developing country. I like seeing women in the Senate, don’t get me wrong. I just see the former option, the house, as much more preferable for myself for a variety of reasons. I went through my Girl Boss phase in my late teens — my hard working immigrant parents, the descendants of a long, long line of ‘tradwives’, wanted different things for their only daughter.

Hours after Donald Trump tweeted a threat to target ‘52 Iranian sites’, some of them ‘at a very high level & important to Iran & the Iranian culture’, Cockburn met an Iranian exile source at the Moby Dick House of Kabob, Connecticut Avenue, Washington, DC. The source took Cockburn’s order and then slipped a tiny piece of paper no bigger than a grain of rice into Cockburn’s baghali polo. As baghali polo is a rice dish, Cockburn didn’t know this until he’d eaten it. It took 24 hours to recover the message. When Cockburn read it, he realized that he was holding the president’s target list.The first five targets are listed here.

Yesterday we witnessed a stunning and brave victory of tolerance over reality. Vile TERF, Maya Forstater lost her case at an employment tribunal for, amongst other things, referring to former SNP councillor and non-binary transgender individual, Gregor Murray as ‘he’:I mean, does they look even remotely like a ‘he’ to you??! Before quitting the party, Gregor had been suspended for ‘abusing a woman on Twitter’. They has obviously been targeted because in my opinion, calling an ignorant TERF a ‘cunt’ is a perfectly legitimate way for a non-binary politician to behave.

Boris Johnson won the UK general election with a huge majority. My country is officially dead to me now. How could this have happened? I was absolutely certain Jeremy Corbyn and his woke Labour comrades would win a resounding victory. The celebrities were out in force posting their achingly sincere videos telling the plebs how they should vote. Actor and comedian Steve Coogan posted a fantastic speech in which he branded anyone who voted Leave in the EU referendum as ‘thick’, and at the time I was sure this would sway any undecided voters.