cynicalbastard

There’s been some stuff over at Devils Kitchen (and other places linked from that) about political correctness. Of the traditional Daily Mail ‘if I can’t call a nigger a nigger anymore, then we’re losing all our freedoms’ type.

I have to admit to enjoying the ramblings sent in to the (usually) right-wing press which contain that give away phrase ‘It’s political correctness gone mad’, where you can almost see the jowls of some old lady quivering away. The dead giveaways for them leading up to *that* dread phrase are the use of such terms as ‘indigenous population’ (ain’t no such thing), ‘our rights are being eroded’ (well, everyone’s rights are being eroded, that’s Blairism for you) and that killer phrase ‘whose going to speak up for the British/whites/original inhabitants?’ (see above).

Not to say there isn’t a problem with political correctness. There is. It’s the over–sanitised culture we now live in. It’s the forms to be signed in triplicate (and quadricate (is that a word?)), it’s the risk assessments, the health and safety checks. For schools to send kids out on trips now, not only does the Head have to sign their agreement, but so does the Chair of the Board of Governors. And the parents. And then, if anything should happen, the parents get to sue the school anyway. Because no one will take any responsibility for themselves anymore.

Everything has to be clean and safe, with every element of danger sucked from it, leaving the dried up husk of third-hand experience, as that’s all we’re allowed to feel (no wonder so many people prefer camcording their visits to places, a) so they can watch the experience in the safety of their own homes, and b) just in case something goes wrong). The sort of thing Mark Pauline’s been doing for years would never be allowed in the UK these days.

And when kids grow up never having experienced any danger, never having learnt to deal with any of the bogey-men and women out there, they’ll have trouble escaping from the plastic bags that constantly surround them. If they ever do, the resulting bloodbath will make Hermann Nitsch’s work look like Playschool.

Peanuts–this product may contain nuts. What sort of world is this?

It’s political correctness gone mad I tells ye!