I wonder if we could roll back out all those joke books from the 1970’s, with Pollack jokes, and black jokes, and Italian jokes.
It might be a flash in the pan, but I think for a time it would do a handsome business. There are so many of us who are SICK with the abuses of truth and decency which are perpetrated by the Thought Police.
No black or Jewish person is helped if you don’t tell that joke about the Jew, the basketball and the Greek.
In fact the ENTIRETY of the speech restrictions we are seeing work to reduce awareness of ACTUAL failures. The more we fail to address important problems, the less we talk about them, and the more we talk about how we are talking.
The essence of talking about talking–which is more or less what occupies the time of the Communists in most Humanities Departments–is avoidance. Or, to use a term I just learned, displacement, which is where you know you should be doing one thing, but instead do another.
We know that black babies are being born daily to teenage mothers and that the fathers are not in a position to, or willing to, take care of those babies, to father them, to nurture them, to provide for them what they need, and that this failure is going to create an enormous emotional strain on the mother, who will be even less emotionally available for that child, who in turn will eventually act out in socially dysfunctional ways, creating yet another generation of failure, but we TALK about the Confederate Flag. We talk about “racism”, as if this kids emotional well-being was not at risk from the start, as if the entire social world he was born into was not more or less geared to fill him with fear, self loathing, anger, and violence.
I seem to be touching some angry energies. Good: anger has a place too. I own it. I admit it. I am capable of anger. I am capable of a great deal more, too.