Pond scum publicly angers algae advocate slinging speciesist seaweed slur

(AP Photo/Michael A. Mariant)

This is our world. This is the world woke has given us.

One little commonplace, generic, everyday descriptive word you never think about twice pops out during a conversation and suddenly?

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THIS is where we are NOW.

It wasn’t said in a jesting manner. Not a nudge gently towards less “offensive” sobriquets and more specific, along the polite order of “Oh, I prefer to use the term…” by The Expert™ being interviewed. Oh, no, no, NO.

The Expert™, English naturalist (he’s a natural something, I’ll give you that) Chris Packham, immediately fell into a state of triggered and offended Karenism, as he chided interviewer Amol Rajan to “mind his language.”

Over SEAWEED?! *blink* Indeed.

Extraordinary. And to Rajan’s eternal shame, he stopped everything and abjectly groveled in remorse for so egregious a faux-pas.

…A BBC anchor profusely apologized after an environmentalist corrected him on-air Friday for using the offensive term “seaweed” when referring to “marine algae.”

English naturalist Chris Packham asked Radio 4 “Today” host Amol Rajan to not use the common nickname when talking about the ocean plant that has recently swamped a beach on the southwestern coast of the UK.

I’ll politely last ask you to mind your language. Can we call it marine algae rather than seaweed? The weed word puts it at an immediate disadvantage, doesn’t it?” Packham, who presents the BBC show “Springwatch,” said.

Rajan interrupted his guest to extend his apologies.

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. And that’s important because I actually looked it up and I still got it wrong,” the host said.

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Mr. Priss Packard was a guest on the program because “noisome” – which is a polite English way of saying “stinks to the high Heavens in a nauseating, gag-inducing manner,” or what any Yankees fan thinks of Boston, same-same – masses of the seaweed/algae had been washing up on English beaches, rendering them basically uninhabitable. The Expert™ was invited on for the segment ostensibly to enlighten people who’d had their sun and sand hopes dashed about what it was, why these things happen, and, I’d imagine, how long such events last. Simple informational fluff piece.

But, no.

He gave a priggish “suck it up, peasants” speech, followed by the climate version of what we used to call the “There are starving children in Biafra, so eat your damn oatmeal” pathos appeal.

…Packham said that those complaining about the stink need to “get a grip” and should focus on the importance of the sea algae — which acts as an oxygen producer, a fish breeding ground and a vital link in the oceanic food chain, particularly along the UK coast.

…“Frankly, when you think of the crisis that we’re in in terms of the environment and our biodiversity, we ought to be focusing on the bigger issues and when people turn up in Weymouth complain about a small marine algae slick, I ask them to turn their eyes to Canada, which is on fire and covering most of the United States with noxious fumes,” Packham said.

“So you know, let’s get a grip and, and tolerate nature … People love nature in the UK when it’s not an inconvenience to them, but the minute that they are slipping over a few forms of algae, everyone’s up in arms.”

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Then The Expert™ promptly referred to his sacred algae swarm as “SEAWEED.”

Because, as we all are well aware, that’s how they roll.

People like The Expert™ – the rude, snippy fit where none was called for, the puffed up sense of his own importance – brought to mind a story I’ve loved for years.

When our squadron would land in Iwakuni for a 6 month (sometimes longer) deployment, the first thing I always did was was hit the base library. I had 2 must re-reads before checking on the new additions that would keep me busy during the time overseas. One was C.F. Forester’s “Hornblower” series (They had the whole thing, yes!), and the other was a little volume of short stories called “Shatterday” by Harlan Ellison.

In the Ellison book, one of the stories is called “How’s the Nightlife on Cissalda.” It’s an absolutely ribald, rude little tale about an astronaut who is shot out into space, lands on Planet Cissalda, and encounters an alien lifeform. When his capsule comes back to Earth and the NASA techs get it open, they are horrified to see Enoch Marin “doing a disgusting thing WITH a disgusting thing.”

The astronaut is wrapped in the embrace of a noxious creature who also just happens to be the perfect purveyor of sexual pleasure. Said astronaut has no intention of ever leaving his intergalactic companion. He is orgasmic and oblivious.

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NASA, naturally, breaks the spell without killing him, but not before the canny space creature sends the high sign to Cissaldans back home that he has landed smack in the middle of a planet full of fodder to sustain them, so come on.

And they do.

Long story short, pretty soon Enoch is kicking around aimlessly. Wandering the Earth by himself as the population blissfully wastes away in the embrace of the invading Cissaldans. He’s immune to their powers, thanks to NASA’s rude disengagement.

And he’s the last sentient human left on Earth.

I’m starting to look at the big, wonderful, relatively safe, and stable world we had as a Cissaldan pleasure trap. It enrobed so many people securely, with little to no friction or conflict or challenge in their lives, that pleasurable fulfillments (vice personal growth) became paramount and all-consuming pursuits. These people have grown up in a cocoon, a “ME ME ME” cocoon, which has given them so little else to focus on in their tiny lives, that they manufacture mini-controversies to maintain dominance and for the resulting thrill, even in something as mundane as a conversation about seaweed.

I will bet The Expert™ had a smug, pleasurable little frisson run down his back when he set the Luddite straight.

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SEAWEED, for God’s sake.

We are allowing our lives to be dictated by people wrapped in cocoons of constant self-pleasuring wokeness.

The cure is easy and permanent.

Once you stop feeding the Cissaldans, they have no power over you.

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