yes youre the only one who got the joke. all of us other non english majors could not decode this strange nerdly satire and alas the joke was lost to us and our thick skulls! damn it all! perhaps you could explain this complicated articulation when you can find the time in between all your english majoring?
This is so clever. Or maybe it’s just the English major in me that gets it.
Haha I think I’ve posted this before but it’s just too good.
At the risk of causing some offence among the more intolerant members of our multicultural society I pose the question - is the UK the most misogynist nation on the planet? Pardon my French, I know the word ‘misogyny’ causes extreme offence to some, particularly certain male paranoid fantasists that dwell among us but in this reporters opinion the answer is yes.
Having never lived in the middle east and having been based only in 1st world nations such as Singapore and Australia prior to my repatriatization to the Britain in 2003, I have never felt such a loss of autonomy as a result of being a woman until I had the misfortune to make use of the NHS services in perinatal treatment (I decline to describe their actions as ‘care’), this summer.
It is strange that my male psychiatrist declined to call me ‘crazy’ before threatening me with section under the mental health act 2007 while hours earlier a female obstretrician had confided to me that it was normal to have persecutory hallucinations about being marched off to gas chambers while experiencing perinatal treatment a the the hands of the wonderful NHS. Normal? That’s not my definition of normal. Unfortunately women are only allowed to refuse treatment for conditions relating to their physical bodies and as we all know, the female brain does not exist in the physical world to the mind of a male perinatal care specialist. Hence as a woman, having only a PhD in Medical Science with specific knowledge in the field of neuroscience did not qualify me to call into question the prescribed treatment made by my male brain doctor. I was prescribed a course of horribly addictive benzodiazepines to quieten me down while 12 year olds were left to smoke cigarettes outside in front of the no smoking signs. All in the interest of preventing me causing ‘self-harm’ - an insane sounding action of course.
Meanwhile, my sons health was compromised at many a step along the way as those wonderful men in charge took all the effort of assessing calculated risk out of my incapable female hands or should I say ‘executive decision-making brain areas’.
Other highlights included asking a midwife for an ibuprofen and receiving the answer that she didn’t want me to take any illicit drugs, seeing my antenatal care record left on a bin while I was immobilized and having my non-PAT tested electric fan and prolaction tea bags stolen. Also my blood pressure rose steadily into the moderately hypertensive region as I struggled to contain a herpes outbreak in the neonatal care zone without the aide of hand sanitizer or even toilet paper where hygiene was concerned. Unfortunately as I found out, no one listens to you when you have been dehumanized by the NHS experience.
I survived a week of such aggressive therapy with my sanity, health and family intact but only I believe because I hold an advanced degree in a relevant subject, have a supportive husband and family network and made every effort to be delivered from labour in excellent physical condition. Perhaps in future we can drop the word ‘Labour’ from hospital usage as its use in the English language itself has become paradoxical.
I notice that translator services are provided free by the NHS to non-English speakers, but who is there to translate for a native English speaker who has been educated by a reasonable system? The National Health Service? The words ‘piss up’ and ‘brewery’ spring to mind.
A regular UK tax slave.
what a great interior.