Keeping Us Off the Streets

THE LADY IN NEW YAWK, teaching seventh grade spanish, use the word "negro", pronounced "naigro", meaning "the color black", in class, somebody precocious, pernicious little shit tattled to the gestapo, oops, I mean "principal", and said lady got fired. Who needs vocabulary drills in a foreign language class!

All that, in a country which calls itself "civilized', merely because it no longer enslaves people whose skin pigmentation is dark brown, but now instead refuses to notice the color of anybody's skin. Color blindness as a virtue, suddenly. How cleverly convenient, how drearily  reactionary of us.

By the time this blog is posted the school board will beyond doubt have regained whatever vestige of sanity it had prior to its inexplicable abandonment thereof, reinstate the lady, (whose skin is dark),
apologize profusely and sincerely to her, then give aforementioned trouble making little shit a stern lecture about the needless stupidity of making trouble for the sake of making trouble.  Or not.

Conservatives, who themselves indulge in a bit of reactionary lunacy from time to time, are forever telling us that we live in a culture of political correctness run amok. And just as surely as conservatives generally call greed compassion, and war mongering peace making, they have a point, in this rare instance.

Listen to a baseball game on the radio. You form an image of the game in your fertile mind, freed from the dull hypnontic tyranny of television, and the feeling is transcendant. A batter comes to the plate; Big, srtong guy, says the announcer, a strapping six two, two twenty five, bats left, power to all fields, a good RBI man with good plate discipline. But wait! What about the obvious, the unanswered question; is he black, white, or hispanic? We will never know, because the announcer can never tell, can never divulge to the faithful listeners any information whatsoever which might even  remotely be offensive to....whom?

But back to our lady of the darkened classroom of hair trigger sensitivities, in the land of the melodramatic, hyperbolic token gesture of feinged good intent. She will either do time in punitive community service, promising erstwhile to never again mention the spectrum of light in any institution of truth and learning, or....or a swarm of bellowing sign wielding attention seekers will descend on the school's parking lot,  show their earnest resolve to get justice in the land of the ostentatious, and force the administrators that be to turn darkness back into light, by sheer force of numbers.

Ah, america, america! how we grieve for your lost sense of perspective, but how we marvel at your unrelenting inability to leave us free from the grasp of manufactured, artificial, needless, but entertaining acrimony. Well, if nothing else, it keeps us off the streets, and, precisely.....where?