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I Call a Spade a Sharp Edged Piece of Manual Digging Apparatus...

By Ashleylister @ashleylister

Political Correctness, otherwise known as when should you not call a spade a spade?

Nothing here is intended to offend - only emphasize irony.  If it does I don't apologize but simply ask you allow me to express my opinion as no unkindnesses are intended.

My name is Lisa.  I am a testicularly challenged, mammorially blessed humanoid.  My waste refuse buffering area is gravitationally challeged and I have a pallid skin tone of caucasian origin.  
See it’s all a bit bonkers don’t you think?  I understand that a lot of the words people avoid using are to refrain from hurting people but that’s never going to happen.  Once it catches on that accusing a larger lady of being gravitationally challenged still means “Oi love you are a big fat moose” then pain will occur, regardless of the PC terminology.
And black.  I mean what am I meant to call a black person now?  Coloured is the most stupid term in the world.  It sounded like some giant 3 year old had picked a person up and got busy with a crayola.  The use of nigger is exclusively granted to black people and rappers which seems rather selfish and a little racist to me.  Black people never used to be able to sit on a white bus and now white people can't use a negro/black/afro-carribean/african/gollywog person's lingo.  I also have a funny feeling despite repeated references in Scrubs, mocha bear will never catch on.  Much to my disappointment. 


But humor aside, I wish everyone would be a bit kinder to everyone else.  I just don't see PC achieving this.  Naive I know, but I don’t think that changing our nouns and adjectives will work.  I think complaining about the words may actually give them more power in the long run.  Words carry the power society gives them often by making them taboo.
Every day I call our Patrick the ginger ninja.  I have called him carrot top, rusty, ginger nut and all manner of red headed nicknames which drive his Grandma mad, but I do it because I am his Mum and I want him to be ready for when the idiots start.   I make him proud of the nicknames that he could be called so that he can stand tall and grin when he hears them instead of being hurt.  
As a mother though, it kills me.  To hear stupid people with the sort of jokes that take an IQ of three and a half to come up with (when they manage to handle a pencil), making cracks about something a person is born with.  Something that makes them special. 
“Ha, ha, you’re one legged, blind, deaf and dumb but at least you’re not ginger....”
That stupid, utter, cheap, unimaginative brand of Frankie Boyle toilet roll printed drivel.  Insulting people just because you can isn't clever, it's certainly not classy and quite frankly if you intend to make a career out of it then you should be bog-washed every morning for the remainder of your career in penance for the influence to young people that you are dishing out.
So I teach Patrick to own the names, to own the insults.  He is proud of being a red head and for now that’s enough.  He is learning to be strong without the blessing of a society who umm and arrrr over what to say, because apparently nationwide bullying regarding a hair color that affects 30-35% of the population isn’t important or classed as descrimination. 

Patrick will be attending martial arts classes from November, just for added insurance.

Humanity is cruel.  We learn to be strong by dealing the best way we can and acclimatising.  Political Correctness either breeds new means for cruelty or encourages alternate targets that aren’t covered in its remit, meaning that as a population we are left vulnerable to new and virulent strains of targeted cruelty.
What’s the point?L x

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