There’s also this intensely cerebral performance from 2012, in which Ms Arsem spends three hours lying face down in a gallery window while passers-by pass by, somehow ungripped by the profundity of the work.

I spoil you, I really do.

On entertaining nuttiness, feminist utopias and vanity as virtue:

The narcissism of much of the middle class left is tautological, considering that they are people born into above average affluence who still feel they should get other people’s money because their art, or environmental campaigning, or political thought – rather than their need for subsistence – merits it.

Oh, and vegetarian’s sperm:

Vegetarians and vegans had significantly lower sperm counts compared with meat eaters, 50 million sperm per ml compared with 70 million per ml. They also had lower average sperm motility – the number of sperm which are active. Only one third of sperm were active for vegetarians and vegans compared with nearly 60 per cent for meat eaters.

It’s just a bigger hole than what society has considered to be “standard”… If there wasn’t such a pointlessly negative view on stretched ears, people like teachers and professional golf players wouldn’t have to get them sewn up.

Observer readers discover that not all employers favour the Urban Bush Warrior look.

Fees at the parlour are priced at 1,000 yen for every five minutes.

Food and clothes are much too cheap, says the fashion designer and socialist millionaire whose PVC handbags sell for upwards of £400.

On dictators big and small, riots and media narratives, and the thrilling world of “masculinity studies“:

When Michael Kimmel talks about men and boys – at least ones unreconstructed by feminism – it is often in a tone that ranges from ironic condescension to scolding rebuke and outright antipathy… He waxes enthusiastic about “rape awareness” measures that treat all men as potential rapists – such as “splash guards” on a college’s public urinals with the slogan, “You hold the power to stop rape in your hand.” Tackiness aside, such a stunt directed at any other group would be readily seen as “hate.” Imagine proposing that “You are looking at someone who can stop terrorism” be inscribed on bathroom mirrors at a campus Islamic centre.

The New York Times feels the pain of Laurie Penny:

By all means take a moment to realign your mind with the notion of Ms Penny as a “cyborg” writer and in some way marginalised – “marked as other” – and struggling against the pressures of not being heard. Except of course when she’s on TV, or Five Live, or Radio 4, or when airing her various and bewildering concerns in the pages of the Guardian, the New Statesman and the Independent.

Menfolk, avert your eyes.

On academic scandals, policing speech and “black privilege”:

No conspiracy theory is required to explain the silence here. Reporters and editors are nervous about being thought racist, or (worse) having “anti-racist” pressure groups demonstrating on their doorsteps. The easy route to avoiding this is a bit of suppressio veri – not lying, exactly, but not uttering facts that might be thought racially inflammatory. The pattern of suppression is neatly explained by the following premises: Any association of black people with criminality is inflammatory. Any suggestion that black criminals are motivated by racism to prey on white victims is super-inflammatory. And above all, we must not inflame. Better to be silent. I believe this silence is a dangerous mistake with long-term consequences that are bad for everyone, and perhaps worst of all for black people.

The black female body is still played for laughs as butt prosthetics become the new blackface.

I’ll just leave that one there, shall I?

“Having less is actually very freeing.”

Scenes from yesterday’s all-purpose protest-cum-socialist-danceathon in New York City.

First the love:

Does the university need to know if I had oral or normal sex in the last three months after I’ve been drinking alcohol or using drugs recreationally, or if I used a condom during? They don’t need to know that for a gender equality questionnaire.

Then the anger:

Occupy Wall Street activists sue each other over who owns the movement’s Twitter account.

Detractors observed that throwing out all those books so that students could sleep during the day was an unfortunate bit of symbolism.

On bold indignation and socialist snobbery:

As well as being a bore, a fornicator and a nincompoop, François Hollande stands accused of being a snob. His former mistress, Valérie Trierweiler, has revealed… that the man who publicly professes to loathe the rich privately despises the poor. The son of a solidly bourgeois home, Hollande apparently sneered at Miss Trierweiler’s humbler origins, and referred privately to the underprivileged as “les sans-dents”: the toothless. Miss Trierweiler finds this attitude incongruous in a leftist politician, which makes me wonder how many leftist politicians she can have spent time with.

On fake hate crimes, protesting artists and the honest use of words:

One would not say of a man who passed from smoking sixty cigarettes a day to fifty that he had given up smoking, or that he had exercised great self-denial. And one would not, or rather should not, say of an organisation that had balanced its budget once in fifty years (the British government) that it was practicing austerity merely because it had to borrow a slightly lower percentage of what it spent than it did the year before. This is to deprive words of their meaning… If reducing the rate at which you overspend and accumulate debt is called austerity, no one will dare go any further in that direction, though it were the right direction in which to go.

Oh, there’s more.

On impolite maths, the deep wisdom of Emma Watson, and the twilight of The Patriarchy:

It’s interesting that the feminists chose Chicago for their “Smash the Patriarchy” message, because nowhere has the Patriarchy been more successfully smashed than in the inner cities. Households led by fathers have become exceedingly rare, single women raise families without husbands, and very few people participate in capitalist enterprises; the inner cities have become radical feminist utopia. How’s that working out for them?

Answers on a postcard, please.

Artists Katy Albert and Sophia Hamilton, aka Mothergirl, tell us that their work “exhibits a strategically refracted or misrepresented view of current political and philosophical discourse, creating a space where viewers are challenged to think critically about their own relationships with feminism, consumerism, and representational visuality.”

Which is why they spent 90 minutes standing by an onramp hitting themselves with pillows.

On WrongThought™, beer pong and the bewildering psychodramas of Toronto’s Proletarian Feminist Front:

What occurs to me about these delusional tools – besides their mental conformity, their vanity, and their belief that the campus belongs to them and is theirs to disrupt – is that their places could have been taken by students who don’t strive to silence facts and ideas, and who actually want to learn something. Perhaps even a skill that’s of value to others and will thereby earn them a living. There must be thousands of much smarter, more honest people – people who don’t imagine themselves as Maoist “revolutionaries” – who would eagerly use the opportunity that these obnoxious little parasites are squandering.

Canadian performance artist Martine Viale thrills and captivates passers-by, armed only with a carrier bag of bobbins and a head wrapped in yarn.