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Demolishing political correctness: One teradactyl at a time
By Bernard Chapin
Much frustration and despair results when the average non-brainwashed human is confronted with the mindlessly sterile political correctness that infects the higher educated strata of our society. Actually, outside the internet and selected television shows, there are few sanctuaries available for the habitually anti-PC.
Today, as another commentator has stated, the golden rule is reversed. We are expected to be "sensitive" to everyone we meet, which in essence, means treating others as they'd like to be treated rather than how you yourself would like to be treated. This adds considerable stress to interactions as it's impossible to know, by definition, the way in which a stranger would like to be treated.
The failure of most of us to conform to the chaotic and arbitrary rules of the thought police has resulted in a Sexual Harassment and Human Resources hiring boom. These sensitivity personnel are now firmly entrenched within American corporations and universities, and seem to exist wholly to deter lawsuits caused by people acting like the unpredictable mammals we in fact are.
The diabolical nature of PC is visible in the way normal folks are publicly disrespected for saying innocuous things like "I'm proud of my ancestry." A statement like is only acceptable is you're part of a favored group; which, in this case, is people of color. For a person like me to say it means that I am only one degree of separation away from the Klan or Adolf Hitler.
My recommendation to the reader is to never be on the defensive when dealing with these little dictators. Defensiveness is what they expect so you should do the opposite. Ideally, those who attempt to control our words should be greeted with a heavy and sudden counter-offensive. The attack must be vigorous. Zeal surprises and confounds them (Indeed, they are so arrogant that they usually are shocked when we don't admit to being "sexist, oppressive, homophobic, elitist and racist" due to our questioning why taxpayers continue to fund the NEA.).
The goal should be to battle them until they get so mad that they sulk off or threaten physical force. Then, if they happen to be female, interject seconds before their outrage reaches the battery point: "Just like a woman to resort to violence, oh how your estrogen drives your behavior. When will you stop acting like a cavewoman? I guess all the Iron Age chicks are graduating from Antioch this year."
These meltdowns yield extra benefit as not only does one get the pleasure of telling them off but additional pleasure is found in never having to speak to them again. The funniest part is that they regard their silence as a punishment!
I have now broken out of any kind of constrains I was once under. I exclusively talk without a filter if anyone tries to dominate me with their social mores. I ratchet it up to DEFCON 1 after they try to structure my sentences. At this point, I understand that there's no reason not to go ballistic on them because there's no way I'd want to be their friends in the first place.
I had a student in class once tell me, because of the way I had posed a question, that she "was offended." I stared at her incredulously and, rather than apologize for a delusional slight, I told her, as kindly as was possible, that there was absolutely nothing offensive about what I said.
Yet, had my last name been Getty and property taxes didn't necessitate side work, I could have said: "I'd give anything to live the type of pampered life you do where you could afford to be offended by the way somebody phrases an everyday question. What do you do if someone cuts you off the highway?"
One can only suppose that she checks herself into a mental hospital to await five days worth of Thorazine, didactic instruction, and group therapy. The stability of your average molly-coddled PC drone is always chancy, especially when they confronted with fight or flight situations like the switching of price tags at Bloomingdale's or their coffee being served lukewarm.
However, even at my day job, I also try to do my part by operating in the narrow range of behavior that is free but not reprimandable. I, for one, refuse to use "African-American" instead of "black." I know many "people of color" who also prefer black over African-American. Regardless of their preferences, a couple times in the past, various co-workers have reproached me for using the achromatic description. Inevitably, these co-workers are white so I tell them: "Most of the black staff in this building do not find ‘black' offensive in the least. Indeed, one of them even sometimes wears a "black is beautiful" t-shirt. Why don't you go over and lecture him on his lack of compassion? Then you can suggest that he take it off."
Well, the chances of them ever doing that are about the same as me and my slow as a Geo Metro legs being signed to play cornerback for the Bears. No, it's like I tell some of my co-workers, "the PC enforcers are afraid of you. They would never question your having three illegitimate children from three different women, but, if I went out with two girls simultaneously, I'd be the poster child for the American family's decline."
Yes, the time is right to heighten resistance so I encourage you to start battling these trolls with me. My friend, Robert, sets an excellent example. Within his social circle in New York City, he is the only one who practices the art of verbally describing life as it is. He sometimes sends me the email records of his skirmishes with his anti-cultural jackal associates and they are hilarious.
One of the vultures he knows does not work and has his rent and schooling paid for through the noblesse oblige of his older brother. This particular brother is a self-made millionaire and one would suppose that the young man would be grateful for the sweet deal he now has but sadly he is not. He views America as being "Amerika– the racist, sexist, exploiter state" even though his brother, without any connections, went from being a college student to a market maker with only a few years labor. Yet, it seems that nothing can alter this fellow's malignant and radical worldview.
Robert diligently tried to argue with him for several months but now has given up. His new tactic is to simply label the Trustafarian with hatespeech. In response to his whines, Robert sends back, "why are you such a homophobe?" Then, after his associate emails him analysis of what they had actually been discussing, Robert replies: "It's practically impossible to interact with such a homophobic person. Why can't you see that gays deserve rights?" These accusations have tremendous shock value as most of these slaves to Stalinism can only dish it out and have no idea how to take it.
I have decided to imitate Robert's style when dealing with this cretin as he is so angry and irritable that he even emails me, a person he barely knows, in order to label me as angry, irritable or whatever other name appears on his "Names to Call Conservatives" calendar. It used to be that I'd send him lengthy point by point refutations, but now I return his own medicine: "When will you end your racist hatred? Man, your homophobia has no limits," or "Your hate will not save you."
If you follow my suggestions then you too can hear the clackety–clack of PC brain cells trying to fit a person beyond their influence into their sheltered, juvenile worldview. I personally think the only way we can turn back this hoard is to burn bridges and go negative whenever possible.
Realistically, we miss out on nothing by making them full-fledged enemies. Rabid cultural Marxists don't really have friends anyway; they have co-conspirators. Anybody who spends their life self-righteously correcting others is incapable of meaningful relationships in general. Therefore, I suggest agreeing with them when they lecture you that "silence about AIDS equals death." Nod your head in agreement and declare that, in light of the motto, their ongoing silence has now become a nation-saving duty.
Bernard Chapin is a writer living in Chicago. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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