a fine line between silliness and supreme beauty

Cambridge professor of sociology Jason Arday is accused of plagiarism by another academic

the accuser is a "race realist" who believes that in a true meritocracy all university professors would be white. this is somehow not acknowledged much during the entire ordeal

this leads to several days of media coverage demanding an investigation, or that Arday is expelled from his post immediately

somehow this accusation that has no effect on the lives of 99.99% of the population becomes FRONT PAGE NEWS in all the newspapers for multiple days, above anything else happening in the UK or the world at large

following intense media scrutiny, Arday resigns his post as a Cambridge professor

today, august 14th, days after resigning, Arday is found dead at his home in Battersea

a few things:

the guy who started all this shit is Nathan Cofnas. he was fired from Cambridge's Emmanuel College for making a blog post that said there shouldn't be black professors. his intentions were in no way related to a care for academic accuracy and honesty. he was angry a black man was working at the school that had fired him.

Cofnas started all this by running Arday's work through a plagiarism machine unprompted. not only are those things infamously inaccurate, but Arady was ultimately cleared and- hey, why was Cofnas driven to do that in the first place?

the British press does not give a fuck about academia 99% of the time. they fucking don't. none of this was about education. they saw an opportunity to attack a black man--notably, one in a position of respect and authority--and took it.

even if he had lied about EVERYTHING he's achieved, if Arday had been white, no one in the press would have given a fuck. he would've, in all likelihood, been fired at most.

to people claiming his claims of racism were false, i just... don't believe that one sorry. this is the UK, we're talking about.

(2008!)

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WC: 358

Fandom: French History RPF

(Dont you love it when you both love the same man and start to fall for each other but the center of your ménage à trois is sort of an idiot?)

Eleonore Duplay and Antoine Saint-Just were always united in their goal of protecting Maximilien Robespierre. Eleonore was able to protect his domestic peace, the Minerva of the apartment. She was able to firmly guide him like a shepherdess, into the dining room to eat, to his room to rest, away from guests who would upset him. Then she could hand him to Antoine who would be able to protect him at the National Convention and the Committee of Public Safety. The one who could use his words and his reputation with the army to hold the Republic together with Maxime, like parents who would protect their children.

Was it not in part inevitable their mutual work would result in mutual regard?

Could Eleonore be faulted for noticing the length and grace of Antoine’s fingers, as he wrote or played the flute? The softness of his eyes, which was such a contrast to he firmness of his words and the coldness of the manner? Could Antoine have it held against him to see the strength of Eleonore’s arms as she assisted her mother with the household, her stern marshaling of her siblings and father’s workmen? The true ring of her cheer in the evening when Maximilien could be convinced to read from Candide as opposed to The Social Contract and made the three of them laugh till they could not stand.