You first came to my attention in the run up to the election that put you in office, when you were pitted against your fellow vote whore Zac Goldsmith in a neck-and-neck PR rivalry. Being a bloke with a sliver of pride, self-respect, and anti–democratic sentiment (Brexit aside, but that’s a tale for another time), I rolled my eyes at the carnival barking, secure in the conviction that I’d be voting for neither of you cunts (nor for any of the other cunts gaming for the London throne). That said, I found the smears by Goldsmith exceptionally slimy, what with him playing up your Islamic affiliation to invoke fears of a terrorist Londonistan in the electorate. That hardly jived with my impression of you as a chilled-out, queer-friendly, Jew-friendly moderate. Sure, you’d rubbed shoulders with some exceptionally sketchy fellows-in-faith in the past—endorsers of jihad and the like—but more out of political pandering pragmatism than ardent affinity, going by the overview of liberal Muslim reformist Maajid Nawaz; in short, more a case of typical politician than typical Islamist.
As such, when London’s ballot-botherers elected you as mayor, I figured—contrary to the doomsaying by pearl-clutching, race-baiting YouTube personalities—that your tenure in office would be anything but remarkable; like your predecessors Red Ken and BoJo, you would be another mundane mayor pushing out policies that’d piss people off in perfectly pedestrian ways. As such, when you ragged on Donald Trump’s (admittedly sweeping and likely unworkable) proposal to ban foreign Muslims from entering the States, and started yapping about there being too many white men on the Transport for London board, I put it down to the political correctness endemic in the Western world, encouraging those in its thrall to see dastardliness behind every disparity.
And then, you banned this billboard:
Such a decision did you no favours with those seeing you as the poster child of Islamification, who branded your ban a step toward a future Saudi Albion, characterised by fatwas against bikinied bodies, amongst other ills.
However, a quick read of your reasoning made clear your actual motivation, rooted, once again, not in any imported ideology but in an outlook all too indigenous to the modern West; more concretely, it’s the outlook of the regressive leftist, the so-called “social justice warrior”, made mandate, evidenced by your claim to be banning the billboards because they supposedly “demean people, particularly women, and make them ashamed of their bodies”. Some stubborn souls will nevertheless call your rationale an example of taqiyya—the cry of the caliphatic conqueror concealing his true intent (or is it?)—but I think your stance sincere and awful enough to be judged on its own (lack of) merit. To paraphrase the now-infamous chant of bingowinged SJW bint Trigglypuff, I’d sum up your stance with the slogan: “Keep your hate sleaze off this transport!”
But that’s not all that seems to be driving you, seeing as you made the point of justifying your decision “as the father of two teenage daughters”, worried about “unrealistic” bikini bodies molesting the fragile eyes of your adolescent crotchlings. You remind me of professed “anarchist” Noam Chomsky when he compared the supposed “humiliation and degradation” of pornography to kiddy-fiddling, calling for it to be stopped in a similar fashion. Like him, you infantilise those past the age of infancy, effectively sticking a stranglehold round the larynx of female agency: Ban this sick filth…‘cos that’s what Daddy likes!
Not that there aren’t women who don’t eat dat discipline up; indeed, many a shehadi of the sisterhood—those strong, empowered, hear-me-roar grrls who need a man like a fish needs a bicycle—splooshed her knickers, seduced by the certainty of never again having to suffer the sight of a toned physique on her morning commute to the NPO. I lost count of all the feminist fuckwits who sprang to your defence last week; for all their protestations against “the patriarchy”, they seem all to eager to slob on its knob to secure or reward a desired outcome. Just ask Stateside actress (and Sinead O’Connor impersonator) Rose McGowan, who (somewhat hypocritically, given her resume) kicked up a social media stink over another billboard, this time for the recently-released X-Men: Apocalypse movie, calling on the company responsible to nip the depicted “casual violence against women” in the bud, despite the picture’s poor put-upon “victim” being a superheroine, taking her lumps with the lads. It seems that lip-service notions of “equality”can’t override the tried ‘n’ true perks of playing the damsel-in-distress to a budding knight in salving armour…or a placating yet phallocratic papa.
So, yeah, unlike most of your other detractors, I think your secularism sincere enough; however, given the therapeutic, authoritarian strain you subscribe to, I can’t say that it makes much of a difference. Still, take solace in the fact that you’re well and truly part of a Western legal tradition exemplified by speech prohibitions in various European nations, “Nordic models”, strip club bans, and the reintroduction of literal blasphemy laws via the Trojan Horse of “tolerance”; in effect, a softer, secularised sharia.
No wonder you slobber over the supranational scrotum of the E.U., you prohibitive, paternalistic, vote-whoring fuckwit!