“Hey slut!” “I hate her. She’s a c**t.” No, not the street talk of ganged-up urban teens. Thirty-something women at a social event. Upper middle class, aspirational, social-climbing even. The century-long linguistic fight the Left has fought against reality – you know, the one that uses everything from de Saussure to Foucault, Baudrillard to Critical […]
The festival of cliché that is Anzac Day lets down people like my Dad and my uncle. Make it all real. It's the least we can do.