The late Douglas Adams coined the term, “Agglethorpe” in his satirical dictionary, The Meaning of Liff. An agglethorpe is “a dispute between two pooves in a boutique”. As the “alphabet people” steadily exhaust the 26 character limit in their quest for ever more obscure “identities”, we are witnessing an agglethorpe of apocalyptic proportions.
As Tom Lehrer might have put it, “Oh, the L-folk hate the T-folk, and the G-folk hate the B-folk, and everybody hates the Ps!”
But, if you thought it stopped with the Qs or the +s, then you’re sadly behind the times, my un-woke friend.
By now I trust you’ve learned about “demisexuals”, an identity that sits on the asexual spectrum, which you’ve surely also heard of, it being closely allied to the aromantic spectrum?
What, you reckon I’m talking woke gobbledygook?
No – I know you’re talking woke gobbledygook. Like the Loch Ness monster, the Secret and the music of Cardi B, I’ve heard of those things, but I’m just not about to take them seriously.
Especially when it’s got to the point that the wokesters are going full-circle back to the 1950s in their unending quest for a “unique” identity.
“Demisexuals”, according to the literature, do not experience sexual attraction until they have formed a strong emotional connection with a prospective partner.
So… pretty well everyone, up until the mid-60s. Still the default setting for most women who aren’t raging crack-whores (if you don’t believe me, take a dip into mega-selling feminine Romance literature, to see where most women’s minds are really at).
I was ignorant of the orientation until roughly a fortnight ago when Michaela Kennedy-Cuomo, daughter of New York governor Andrew Cuomo, granddaughter of the late and great Senator Robert F. Kennedy, outed herself on an Instagram livestream.
She explained she’d recently learned about demisexuality and found the identity “resonated” with her, having earlier tried on the bi and pan sexualities for size. In June, during Pride Month, she had declared herself “queer.”
As a friend’s grandmother once said, “Oh, honey – that’s just a fancy way of saying ‘slut’.”
Still, this trend proves what Charles Murray noticed, when he said that most wokesters don’t preach what they practise. Despite their endless worship at the altar of Wokeism, in their personal relationships, many young people are essentially quite conservative. But, obviously, they can’t just come out and say, “We’re straight and proud!” That’s, like, hate speech, man. Make up a fancy “orientation”, stat! Are there any flags left?
Apparently, yes.
I only learned about the aromantics when, doom-scrolling in bed two nights ago – exhaustion rendering me involuntarily asexual – I stumbled on a reference in a news story about the Greens-led Yarra City Council erecting a green, white, grey and black-striped flag above the city’s town hall in February to mark “Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week”.
Wait, what? you ask. What’s an “aromantic”? Someone with a smell fetish?
No, an “aromantic”, you a-phobe (or whatever) is “someone who experiences little or no romantic attraction to other people”. Which is not, by the way, the same as an “asexual”.
And these are the people who sneer at the neckbearded “Men Going Their Own Way”.
Unsurprisingly, this endless quest for fancy identities is causing the woke to eat themselves in an agglethorpe purge to rival the Great Terror.
But the asexuals and aromantics surely don’t merit their own flag. More to the point, for Yarra to imply their flag – their cause – is a variant of the rainbow Pride LGBTIQ agenda is a travesty[…]
People can call themselves whatever they wish. But in allowing the demisexuals, the “a”-groups and the emerging others to march under their Pride banner, LGBTIQ activist groups, and their allies, disrespect the sacrifices of their forebears and undermine the continuing struggle for gay and transgender rights. Frankly, they ought to be ashamed of themselves.
The Age
Whoa, hold on there, Ms Age Columnist – are you using hate speech? Sounds like hate speech to me. Definitely a phobia. Saint Jacinda said we’d know it when we saw it, after all.
I’m offended. Are you offended? I’m literally shaking.
Ok, with laughter, but still…
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