Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Via the Head Ewok (fbuh), ol’ Robbo became aware of an article that makes him laugh and laugh and laugh:  According to the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, the phrase “politically correct” now  is no longer, er, politically correct and is instead categorized as a “micro-aggression”, presumably, subjecting anyone who uses it to the the camps or (soon!) firing squads.

Aye, me.

As some longtime friends of teh decanter may know, Ol’ Robbo first became acquainted with the term “politically correct” during his freshmanperson orientation on the campus of the People’s Glorious Soviet of Middletown, CT in August, 1983.  Back then, it was presented to us noobies in a non-confrontational, “hah-hah” manner via the frosh special edition of the school newspaper.  (As I recall for example, according to said paper, “politically correct” meant being a supporter of John B. Anderson in the 1980 presidential election.  As Wash would say, “Quaint!”)

However, after a few weeks on campus, I recognized what Thomas Dolby called the iron fist in the glove full of vaseline.  These people weren’t fooling about, they were dead serious.

Fast-forwarding, it is becoming evident to the wider population (and by that I mean (non-snobbishly) people who didn’t go to fringe elite schools back in the day) that this term of “politically correct” is not a benign expression of tolerance and inclusiveness, but is instead the hallmark of dictatorial Leftism.  Hence the mockery and hence the diktat that said mocker amounts to micro-agression.

Let ’em deal with being hoist by their own collective petard, say I.

UPDATE: Speaking of the dear old school, what should show up on a FB feed I follow this morning but this story about the Argus, the school newspaper, stepping on a hornet’s nest by publishing a politically incorrect op-ed about “Black Lives Matter”.  Short version, a student pens a piece suggesting that while BLM has legitimate goals, it doesn’t do anyone any good by stirring up mayhem with its inflammatory rhetoric.  The Argus publishes the piece and the campus has a collective meltdown.  The Argus gets its budget slashed and the author, a 30 y.o. combat vet, now has to walk around campus wearing a paper bag over his head, ringing a bell and holding a sign reading, “Unclean”.

Apparently, the fellah knew what he was getting into when he applied to Wes, but wanted to have his conservative ideas challenged.  I get this because after I realized what I had got myself into (we chose the school solely based on academics – which were still outstanding back then – and didn’t pay attention to campus atmosphere), I also saw the advantages it would present.  Certainly being in such a hard left environment forced me to do the math in figuring out my own positions.  It also honed my debating skills mightily.

But that was 30 years ago and I fear things are very much different now.  Back then, one could actually have a legitimate debate on the substance.  Nowadays, the battles are fought on the basis of emotion and feeling, not reason.  Back then, while I certainly wasn’t the most popular kid on campus,  I could at least draw politickal cartoons for the campus conservative paper without fear, and once in a while get a compliment on my intellectual integrity.  Now? They’d chase me up a tree and set fire to it.  Well, no they wouldn’t because Globull Warmening and stuff.  Instead, they’d all shelter in place in the dining hall and make hissing noises at me until I withdrew.

Tuition, by the bye, is now $65K per year.

 

 

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