A recent article in The Australian covered the trigger warnings given to the audience in a recent production of Macbeth.  Long warnings were given about ‘coarse language, explicit depiction of violence and blood, sexual references, discussion of warfare, discussion of infanticide, misogyny, occasional drinking and smoking, references to death or dying.’  Sounds like an average day in the Davies household.

Earlier this year I re-watched The Good Life, which surely must be the least offensive programme ever made.  Clearly this was not the case in someone’s eyes as a trigger warning was provided.  My favourite for trigger warning is for ‘The Pursuit of Love’ by Nancy Mitford.  In the Radlett family, the children partake in the Child Hunt on Boxing Day when they run across the countryside instead of the hare and are hunted by adults on horseback with bloodhounds.  I am trying work out what is wrong with that.  Should be compulsory for all children.

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Prime Minister Albanese recently appointed two new ministers and the headline in the Australian Financial Review was ‘New ministers come out swinging’.  Albanese’s intention was to add new blood to the cabinet and while I am sure he is fully in favour of diversity, should this extend to swingers?  Can swingers add a new perspective to government decision-making?  I am sure there is a joke here, but it escapes me at present.

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The new semester has started and I have discovered I like Asian students as they keep calling me professor.  I should of course disabuse them of this practice and get them to call me something else like Sir or Master, which are my preferred pronouns.  Somehow I cannot bring myself to do it. 

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I found a postscript to the swooping Tenby seagulls from my holiday.  Listening to Dead Ringers, a satirical radio BBC broadcast, I came across this skit of a BBC news broadcast: ‘A nine-year old boy from Derbyshire has won a European championship for his seagull impression.  The judges were impressed not just by the accuracy of his screech but also how he stole his neighbour’s chips and shat on his windscreen.’