Just once, I’d like to turn on the radio, TV, or Facebook first thing in the AM without being told what thoughts are unacceptable that day.
The latest crusade launched by our intellectual betters concerns my beloved Washington Redskins. It turns out that I have been a racist for the past 47 years because I cheer for a team with an "offensive" and "racist" name.
Never mind that the people telling me this are all white (I have nothing against white folks, heck half my family is white and unlike the president I don’t resent them for it). Or that it’s highly unlikely any of them actually knows an Indian (at least of the American kind). They know better; it has been decided; and my thought crime must be eliminated.
But that is the bizarre age we live in. It’s no longer about whether the majority should listen to, and be sensitive to, the sensibilities of minorities – after all, in a democracy that’s just good sense and good manners and thankfully that’s become a settled question in most circles.
Rather, we see a small but vocal group of cultural elites adopt the supposed causes of minorities as a cudgel to beat submission out of their political adversaries — and even more to prove their own moral superiority.
Someone please save us from scolds, wannabe commissars, and spoiled brats.