When the bottom falls away.

Did you ever wade into a stream, or a pond, or a slough, thinking the water might come up to your knees, or even your waist, but if it gets any deeper you are getting out? How did you react when suddenly, the bottom seemed to fall away and you were suddenly neck deep? I usually experience a brief sensation of panic as I try paddle my way to shallower water. But one time, the problem wasn’t the water, it was the mud, soft, deep and adhesive. I just mentally experienced that effect while searching the term “micro aggression”. The list of colleges with bias response teams, and examples of micro aggressions is endless. I focused on just one, university of Wisconsin, because they have so many branches.

According to an “Interrupting Bias & Hate” presentation distributed by the school’s Bias Response Team, “microaggressions” are defined as an “everyday slight, put down, indignity, or invalidation directed toward a marginalized group.” Microaggressions may include “slurs, epithets, and degrading language,” the presentation adds, and can lead to a “hostile environment or harassment if there are patterns.” The university elaborates that microaggressions can include “being forced to choose male or female when completing forms/paperwork,” “not calling someone by their preferred gender pronouns,” or unwillingness “to listen closely how to correctly to pronounce non-English names.” Examples include “America is a melting pot”; asking anyone who is non caucasian “where are you from?”  With microaggressions so pervasive on campus, it’s no surprise that colleges have stepped up efforts to protect students from subliminal insults they might not even be aware of, by forming the new SWAT team–Shielding Wimps from Actually Talking teams, called Bias Response Teams, BRTs. The following is from an article ominously titled The Rise of Bias Response Teams, in The New Republic, By JEFFREY AARON SNYDER and AMNA KHALID.

 

 

Pejorative colors.

When you saw a ghost did you turn lily white, especially on a night black as the ace of spades, and did you turn yellow and suffer a brown out? Are you still white as a sheet, your spirit dark as night, and did your teeth yellow with age, but most of all, do these questions make you see red? Why is that? Does my facility with language make you green with envy, or do you simply get to feeling blue? I will give you the green light to tell a white lie so you don’t get a black mark against your name. That’s racist! Didn’t I already go through that? Are you conscious of, do you count the number of times each day you used a color pejoratively? Probably not. Where’s your outrage machine then? Have you been blacklisted from it?

Colors…. are….just….colors….unless they aren’t. Observable physical traits are just that, until they’re racist. A 20th century anthropologist named Carleton Coon divided humanity into five races: Caucasoid (White) race; Negroid (Black) race; Capoid (Bushmen/Hottentots) race; Mongoloid (Oriental/ Amerindian) race; Australoid (Australian Aborigine and Papuan) race. Let’s compare races, apart from judgements about them: Caucasoid and Negroid, knowing that intermixing has produced endless variations, God’s palette of many colors. To make it even simpler, let’s choose a well known person as representative of each race. To further filter prejudices, let’s choose very popular athletes who keep themselves in peak condition. I am going to mention only characteristics that are comparatively different throughout the race, in general. How about Tom Brady and Lebron James. The most superficial observation would yield clear differences: skin color and tone, hair straightness, lip thickness, gum and palm color, eye shape. Below the surface, we would find that Tom, despite being in peak condition, still has a higher amount of subcutaneous fat than LeBron.

It gets more complicated from there. As Jim Goad says of the racist hunters, “though they insist ‘race’, i.e., quantifiably different physical and cognitive patterns between groups of different continental origins—doesn’t exist, they act as if the definition of ‘racism’ ‘is fixed in cement. Sorry to pop your One-World Love Bubble, but ‘race’ is far easier to quantify than ‘racism.’ A forensic scientist could take DNA samples from a skull and determine its continental origins, but they would be utterly incapable of telling you whether the skull once harbored racist thoughts. The true social construct here is racism, not race.”

I’m ready to hit back. The next time someone asks me if I’m racist, I am going to say, “hell yes, I love racing. Formula One, Indycar, NASCAR, Grand Prix. Bring it all. As long as it makes noise, pollutes the air and burns lots of fossil fuel, I’m down with it baby!”

Mega Trigger Warning: This rant is deadly.

Church of Universal Human Equality mass

You will either “die laughing” (I which case you’re probably my tribal brother or sister) or want to kill me and the writer (which you’re probably too inept to do). Once again, I present Jim Goad’s The New Church Ladies. If you want more detail, buy this book!!! Jim’s words within the quotes.

“Every religion needs a Devil, and the Church of Universal Human Equality depends on the utter dehumanization of a stock character called “the racist.” This term used to mean any white male wearing a brownshirt; these days it signifies any white male who isn’t constantly flogging himself while clad in a hairshirt. The same people who say they’re against organized religion are all card-carrying members of the Church of Universal Human Equality, which is perhaps the best organized, most well-funded, and least tolerant mythological system on Earth. I don’t even think Islam can compete. I don’t think you anti-racist white witch-hunters wrapped in your golden curtains of righteousness and riding your pale little white ponies hate “racists” so much as you hate heretics. And my guts tell me that 100 years ago, you would have all been in white racist lynch mobs while I would have been the one crazy white guy in town trying to stop you. That’s because you are herd animals and I’m forever swimming upstream. Rather than social revolutionaries, way down at the bottom of the tailbone of your souls, you are conformists. Drones. Worker ants. Oooh, how I despise you.” Doesn’t Conformity unify Nazis, Communists, militants of all stripes and colors?

“You’re right that I have hate in my heart. But you’re wrong about the target. It’s you, Mr. & Mrs. Snarky White Hipster Anti-Racist Witch-Hunter Scooter Club, that I truly hate. I hate the gross selectivity of your witch-hunting and the fact that you amplify certain racial crimes while blotting others from your collective memory banks. I hate your movements and your petitions and your boycotts and your perpetually selective outrage. I hate your group shaming, your ritual self-shaming, and the constant status-jockeying that you can only seem to achieve via shaming others. I hate your endlessly gluttonous lust to punish sinners for committing racism, sexism, and homophobia. I hate this thing you call “evil” that is always somehow safely quarantined outside of yourself. I hate the fact that you creeps live your lives with your noses ass-deep in the perceived sins of others. I hate the primitively moralistic screenplay inside your head where one side is always presumed guilty and the other side is always innocent. I hate your gross displays of public moral preening. I hate that you marginalize and dismiss ideas not because they’re wrong, but because they don’t flatter your herd’s self-image. I hate the fact you’ve created a climate of fear where things that huge swaths of the public seem to sincerely believe are currently forbidden to even discuss in public forums. I hate the horrid unreality of your deluded optimism and half-baked utopian schemes. I hate the special hatred you reserve for those braver than you are. I hate your arrogant tendency to frame any ideological dissent as a mental-health issue or a cancer of the soul rather than a simple disagreement. I hate your shallow outrage at people not for saying something that’s false, but because they dared to even say it aloud. I hate your undying obsession with the presumed guilt and turpitude of others. I hate your strong urge to punish anyone not like you. I hate that you are only willing to hate what it’s socially acceptable to hate. I hate that you don’t even realize you operate like a lynch mob. But you’re worse—too chickenshit to do the lynching yourself, you instead enable certain currently endemic forms of racist violence by refusing to acknowledge its very existence.” I hate hard boiled, soft boiled and rotten eggs. Some things are worth hating.

“More and more, the modern leftist resembles an 80-year-old film actress who never quite made it in the business and lives huddled somewhere in a dusty Hollywood apartment with 20 cats and five pounds of makeup on her face. Peel away the thick mask she’s painted on her crinkled mug, and you have Medusa in curlers. More and more, it strikes me that leftist compassion is truly skin-deep and goes no further than the epidermis. Oh, sure, they will tolerate a multitude of skin colors (except for the paler manifestations), a sickening array of reconstructive genital mutilations, a Boschian tableau of divergent sex organs crammed into improbable orifices, and any yapping, screaming vagina no matter how hateful or insane the she-beast obviously is. They will tolerate racial violence as long as the targets are correct. They will applaud homicidal sexism so long as the victims are male. They won’t blink if you demean others’ sexual orientation so long you’re shitting upon the straights. But don’t you dare think differently than they do. Their tolerance does not extend to what’s in your brain. If you dare to disagree with them, they will attack like a pack of starved rats. Their behavior suggests that they believe others should suffer literally—even corporeally—not because of their actions, but because of their thoughts alone. This will manifest as bald aggression rather than fuzzy compassion. And when they mock and threaten, it’s not bullying. When they get you fired from your job or reveal your home address, it isn’t McCarthyism. When they call you a piece of shit, they aren’t dehumanizing you. And when they wish ass cancer upon you, there’s nothing hateful about it. They’ll engage in purely totalitarian tactics while calling you a fascist. This is not the behavior of people who are secure in their beliefs. This is the hysterically phobic reaction of those who dread that they might be wrong. If you base everything on a false premise of equality, you’ll have to become a liar to keep propping it all up. You’ll have to enact codes and laws and punishments for anyone who dares question the sanctity of their fundamental premise.” This is the worst kind of slavery, slavery of the mind.

“What is going on with Political correctness AKA the bloody afterbirth of the civil-rights movement, is the most egregious moral panic I’ve seen. This is far more than a battle for the “right” to interracially date or to engage in same-sex soixante-neuf. This goes far deeper than such trivialities. This is a war of attrition to control thought and language and culture, to demean and ostracize anyone who doesn’t fall obediently in line, to declare certain subjects beyond discussion and maybe even one day to make it impossible to think differently than the herd. I often wonder what quotient of the population feels effectively silenced. How many Americans fear speaking their minds in the workplace because they don’t want to get fired or sued? They are immune to logic as if they’ve been vaccinated against it—so go for their emotions. Mock them. Endlessly mock them. Publicly mock them. Take their cancerous hatred—which they’re openly projecting onto you—and smash them back in the face with it. They’re begging for it. They are only being relentless because you’ve been too nice.” That is the main point and purpose of my blog: mocking and satirizing the PC crowd, whom I call Perfectionist Progressives. They want nothing less than 110% conformity to their intolerant quest for acceptance of, then acquiescence to, and finally approval for any and every anti traditional, anti American, anti God act and appetite.

“The mind of a censor is a dark and frightened space. Censors are motivated not by a certainty that their targets are wrong but a fear that they may be right. The end result of the Free Speech Movement has been to create a generation of graduates whose minds are bolted shut and paved over with cement. In the interest of delusional and unquantifiable intangibles such as “equality” and “social justice,” the totalitarian wolves in free-speech clothing who arose in Berkeley fifty years ago have created a suffocating environment that is more hostile to the free exchange of ideas than perhaps at any time in American history.” Amen and amen. Abbie Hoffman once wrote a book called Steal This Book. I say about The New Church Ladies buy this book.