English Literature at UCLA

Which Horrifies Me More?

Several years ago I posted a link to a Marie Claire about how women in  L.A. were getting their anuses bleached because otherwise men wouldn't be willing to sodomize them.  But this is certainly another sign of the moral degradation of our society.  From Oct. 28, 2015 New York Post:

Women are getting labiaplasty to look good in their yoga pants

Suddenly Idiocracy seems almost like an improvement.  As a comment on this at Instapundit observes:

Sane culture: Cutting and stitching the clothes to fit the body.

Insane culture: Cutting and stitching the body to fit the clothes.

More Evidence Madness Is Winning

Before sex-change surgery this guy's request would have been correctly seen as madness.  From Oct. 16, 2015 Daily Express:

A man who had his face and eyeballs tattooed to look like his pet parrots has gone a step further - by cutting off his ears. 

Ted Richards, 56, is obsessed by pets Ellie, Teaka, Timneh, Jake and Bubi and has his face tattooed with colourful feathers.

But the animal lover - who has 110 tattoos, 50 piercings and a split tongue - has now had both his ears removed by a surgeon in a six hour operation.

Eccentric Mr Richards has given his severed ears to a friend who "will appreciate them" and is now planning to find a surgeon prepared to turn his nose into a beak.

He said: "I think it looks really great. I love it. It's the best thing that has happened to me.

  If, as seems to be the case, child sexual abuse causes homosexuality, what causes this?

Instapundit Calls This A Sign of "Civilizational Decline."

Here.  From the Sept. 24, 2015 Daily Mail comes a report of a bully beating up a blind kid at Hungtington Beach High School, and a football player coming to the blind kid's defense.  The bully was arrested and charged by the police. So who did the school punish?  Yup, the football player.  There's video of the incident so the school did not err because they did not know what happened. Civilizational decline?  No, what happens when liberals are in charge.

Many years ago, a friend was a security guard at a drug store in Rohnert Park.  The photo developing departmenty asked him to look at some pictures they had developed.  They were almost entirely pictures taken on an elementary school playground focused on the butts of little girls.  Nothing unlawful, but certainly Bay Area normal in its perversion.  He waited around to see who picked up the pictures, because the playground was the elementary school where his daughter and mine attended.  A few days later, he is at the school picking up his daughter and he sees butt photographer on the playground taking pictures.  So he grabs him and takes him to the principal's office and explains his concerns.  Butt photographer claims he was hired by the architectural firm preparing to remodel the school.  The [principal asks for the name of the firm that hired him.  Butt photographer doesn't know.  The principals' reaction was not to call the police or order this guy off school property but, "John, did you force this guy to come to the office?"

More Signs of What's Next

Salon, the essence of online progressive thought explains that pedophilia is a sexual orientation:

The Discovery of an Alternate Sexuality:

Many gays begin to recognize their sexual preferences sometime around puberty, if not before.  For me it was the same.  I was about 12 when the first inklings of a sexual preference bubbled up in me, though at the time I thought little of it.  As I turned 13 it occurred to me that what I initially took as a phase had begun to solidify into something more troubling.  Even so, at this point I could still convince myself that I was within the realm of normalcy.  Then something happened that all but removed my ability to continue this self-denial: my Eureka Moment.  

One day, as I was sketching in my grandparents’ living room, a neighbor of theirs came to visit with his seven-year-old daughter in tow.  At first I hadn’t noticed her because she was quiet.  I only heard my grandpa and his neighbor chatting in the kitchen while I sketched.  Soon the little girl walked into the dining room and stood at the archway entrance to the living room, watching me draw.  I can still see her today in my mind’s eye: dressed in blue jeans and a nearly matching denim jacket, with pristine blue eyes and a halo of wispy blond curls framing her face.  She seemed somehow larger than life and almost ancient in the way she stood so perfectly still.  Then, just like that, she was gone; she and her father left.  That singular moment, though it could scarcely have lasted more than a few minutes, has become seared into my memory.