Janice Fiamengo: Boys Are Shamed at Brookfield High – No Joke Posted on April 19, 2019 by Eeyore — 1 Comment ↓ H/T Xanthippa Share this:FacebookTwitter
It is so very disheartening to have teenaged boys and witness this Orwellian pretzel logic in play. Many a young woman, encouraged by her teachers, now declares herself to be a lesbian or bi-sexual. I wonder, sometimes, when I visit the school and see these girls in the hallways, how many of them are truly this way and how many are virtue signalling? How many are having their normal teenaged enthusiasm and idealism played by adults for twisted PoMo orchestrations? How many in 10 years will realize they’re not happy and spit out the kool-aid?
And then you have the boys. The most confident ones now are often gay. Their plumage preened and dressed by a social contract stipulating a certain immunity to moral and ethical deviance.
At a recent school concert a black gay boy was given a standing ovation for being heroically black, gay, and singing a song about being black, gay and singing a song. The recital was held in a lovely old downtown church. The acoustics for the event were wonderful, with the youthful voices soaring in heavenly ode to the postmodern gods, replete with the faintest hint of echo in this holy chamber.
That church burned down for me that evening. Straight white teenaged boys, naturally low in confidence at this stage, are having a tough go of it. Cast a wandering eye, lad, towards a pretty girl but beware! You may discover most unceremoniously that she identifies as lesbian, tells you so, and then goes on to tell you you’re “creepy” for delivering that glance. Talk about the inversion of morality.
Yes, the teenaged boy who is already fragile in his development must now suffer this new social gauntlet. God help those who haven’t a responsible father to model for them!
That prideful black gay singer now prances the hallways pretty as a peacock. He has been granted licence by the court of identity politics to be both judge, jury and executioner. He has been ordained King.
Recently my son’s friend wrote a note for a girl he thought cute and stuck it in her locker. –The clumsy dance of awkward teenaged introductions. Shortly thereafter the note was returned by the hand of this heroic gay boy, to the straight white boy who sat alone in the hallway. The girl to whom the note was addressed stood some meters away with her clutch of safety friends. –Gleefully witnessing the public shaming of this boy who wanted nothing more than to say hi. Our gay hero, emboldened by his status, saw himself ordained to deliver the punch to the gut that was the sneering return of a most wholesome, sweet and innocent overture.
This little story is hardly my effort to villify a visible minority, but rather an illustration of a real, little tragedy acted out by real, modern players, and I challenge any modern pundit of our new morality to defend this little murder of timeless innocence.
It is a scene worthy of a new Shakespeare, repeated now every day and every where to a world without audience.