Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.
We should be jealous of the ten-year-olds who will grow up to tracks like Beyoncé's "Flawless", when all we had was the Spice Girls' "Wannabe".
You can take my fake smokes from my warm, blood-beating hands.
The moral crusade against the sex trade, whether it is pursued by the police or by high-profile feminists who have never done sex work, serves the same function that it has always served, writes Laurie Penny.
While the Home Office launches a special “fast-track” service for foreign business leaders wanting to come to the UK, asylum seekers and persecuted activists are treated with contempt.
For all those knuckle-clutching articles about how girls everywhere are about to pirouette into twerking, puking, self-hating whorishness, we do not actually care about young women.
Half a century after the end of the Chatterley ban, high culture still recoils at the least whiff of smut.
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