National Post's peculiar ways with Wilfred Laurier University: We don't just cover the story -- we have our scribes represent you!

The National Post's ethics do not sit well with me with regard to their peculiar coverage of Wilfred Laurier University. They are the ones who have hyped up Lindsay Shepherd's little mess with her snowflake bosses who are very afraid of University of Toronto's mediocre pop psychologist/guru to the snowflake man-child demographic Jordan Peterson. Charles Krauthammer he is not.

The entire affair has turned Canadian universities into trailer parks, and really, let's have this out on Dr. Phil or Judge Judy or the recently wrapped up Jerry Springer because, in fact, this is precisely where this low-class egotistical brat-fest belongs. Kardashians are a snore, but nerdier Kardashians are an epic embarrassment.

You had a no-name graduate drudge by the name of Lindsay Shepherd do the inexcusable act of showing dreck from TVO. That's a pretty slacker thing to do as TVO is just vapid state-run babbling that you can watch for free at home on your own time, unlike sitting in a classroom, which is very expensive. Jordan Peterson, whose claim to fame isn't doing anything worth remembering in academic psychology, but behaving like dad Murray from the 1980s-themed sitcom The Goldbergs.

Peterson refusing to use any gender pronoun other than he/she is just the same as Murray sitting in his recliner in his underpants yelling at his middle child Barrie who wants to be called Big Tasty instead of his birth name Barrie. Murray could shout angrily that he isn't going to call Barrie Big Tasty because his son is a moron and that's not the name on the birth certificate, while an angry and offended Barrie throws a fit, and then runs with his arms swaying behind him.

That is why Jordan Peterson actually gets any press. It is all very sad and inconsequential. That the University of Toronto was Bev Goldberg to Peterson's Mur by getting all in a huff because dad wouldn't indulge junior just goes to show you that just like bad American comedies, Canadian academia is also a joke. 

Shepherd showed a big nothing to her sedentary class and her bored professor-overlords, who are paid generously to sit around and pontificate as they make up things to do other than actual work, went all gangbusters on her and she secretly recorded them as they expressed suspicion that she was in cahoots with Murray Goldberg, aka Jordan Peterson.

The National Post jumped the bones of this non-story, whining on end how this was an outrage, and shame on anyone who slags a common graduate drudge who airs an episode of Canadian Goldbergs. The university was stupid in flogging a garden variety underling, and the Post was silly in hyping up said underling into some sort of hybrid of freedom of speech crusader and abused little girl. They have been trying to place their backside on two chairs, with very little traction as the story always seems to collapse between those two wobbly chairs.

And, as usual, the Post never had a clue of what was really important.

The real question was how much student's money is sunk into trailer park nonsense and showing TVO drivel instead of, you know, teaching students to research, conduct experiments, and do something other than puke out sophistry, but as critical thinking is not a sought-after quality in journalists, the episode got bizarre with the university apologizing for babbling nincompoopity to an underling while ignoring the fact that students sit around watching TVO instead of going out in the real world and think as they act.

This isn't teaching. This is babysitting.

Shepherd stood around outside, and just as sitting in front of a television in class is construed as work, the act of construed as protesting freedom of slacktivism.

The National Post was quick to cover all of this non-news in a lop-sided way because it was cheap and easy no-brainer trigger clickbait, but then Shepherd and Peterson -- who are supposedly not linked, suddenly got linked in a real way: they are both suing Laurier using the same Financial Post journalist (i.e. National Post)/lawyer Howard Levitt.

This presents an ethical dilemma for the rag.

Levitt is free to represent anyone he wishes as lawyering is his day job, but the National Post is not free to just cover this melodrama. They have a vested interest in this story they framed incorrectly -- and I find it very interesting that Levitt is representing the side the Post has painted as the hero-ish victim.

It was in the pages of the Post that painted Laurier as the bad guy ("Thought police!"). If I were a lawyer representing the university, I would be going after the newspaper for turning an internal matter into a pseudo-circus, and note how this all-so-very convenient set up came about.

This was not a national story: this was a local story about a teaching assistant who resorted to showing television shows instead of providing more substantial methods of teaching, and her bosses miss the obvious and then pick on her for some triviality. She may have been ordered to do so by the same slugs who gave her that pathetic verbal lashing, but that's up to the university to explain why they allow such passive teaching methods to go on.

The entire episode is an indictment of social science education: we have students sitting around watching a television clip, and then talking about it. Are you people serious?

Students can do that at home for free. As in, YouTube.

I remember when I was in Kindergarten, I was told to ask my mother to bring in dry pasta in various shapes so we could glue it on construction paper and call it "art" -- my mother, who is an artist herself -- hit the roof. She just went ballistic in two languages, not just one. It was a waste of food, a waste of time, and patently insane to slop some glue on food, stick it on paper, and then be proud as you mislabelled it art. This was educational deception and she would have none of it.

Art took practice. You had to get your hand to move in certain ways. You had to study your subject and you had to understand each medium you used. This was heartless, soulless pseudo-artistic garbage, and she let my teacher and principal know that was a lazy cheat to pretend to teach art without actually teaching it.

Fortunately for me, mom taught me art herself, and sent me for private lessons as well.

I feel that is the superior form of education in a modern age where young adults are doing the equivalent of slopping pasta on paper and calling it a social science. We do not need to have sterilized theoretical debates on gender pronouns: we can have in the field experiments that give us real world results we can use, instead of passively sitting like dummies watching public sector blowhards spit sophistry and opinion in each other's faces and then someone has the nerve to opine that they have something that resembles importance in their own field.

If they did, they wouldn't be chewing the fat on TVO. As in ever.

The National Post should be fundamentally embarrassed for looking at the trash and then thinking they found treasure. You didn't.

You don't see the obvious. That everything is just a farce and a sham, but the Post always had their writers glue pasta on newsprint and then have the gall to call it a story...