I swear… our society has become this bizarre caricature of itself, where everyone is searching for something to be outraged about, anything that will allow them to whine and claim racism… or offense… or microaggression… or some other perceived offense.
If you don’t know what that is, UCLA will help you out.
Microaggressions are the everyday verbal, nonverbal, and environmental slights, snubs, or insults, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalized group membership.
If you’re scratching your head, thinking, “What. The. Fuck,” you’re not alone. But apparently, asking someone where they’re from, believing that the “most qualified person should get the job,” or maintaining that “America is the land of opportunity,” is a slight against… well… someone. Do yourselves a favor and read that entire thing. Yes, your eyes will start to bleed from the sheer volume of stupid, but you will understand what you’re up against.
Then there are the trigger warnings. Those of you who don’t know what those are, get ready… you’re going to puke in your own mouth at the absolute ridiculous entitlement of the precious snowflakes that are taking over our society! These are apparently admonitions to sensitive punkins that they might find your statements offensive or outrageous in some way. That way, these snowflakes can find a safe place to decompress from the stress and pressure of reading something that might expose their fragile sensibilities to something that challenges their worldview!
Anything you say is a microaggression as long as the person to whom you say it is offended by it.
And if you disagree, if you argue, well then you’re part of the problem. Because everything is racist, offensive, and outrageous! The fact that you don’t recognize this subjective, nebulous weirdness, makes you part of the problem.
My point: if you’re arguing something isn’t a racial slur or a microaggression, you are part of the problem.
— Justina Ireland (@tehawesomersace) August 28, 2015
The perpetually offended want to wrap themselves in metaphorical bubble wrap to ensure that no offense, no bad word, no insult – perceived or otherwise – grinds sand into their delicate vulvas. And they take it as a given that you must conform to their standards – protect them, spoil them, shield them from all possible indelicacies – or else… Or else what? Or else, they snap. Oh, you think I’m kidding?
The words are a part of everyday conversation — “swinging” by an address and going out in the “field.” But in the twisted mind of Virginia gunman Vester Lee Flanagan II, they were pure racism — and saying them became a death sentence for Alison Parker. The 24-year-old white reporter, who was murdered on live TV along with her cameraman, used the phrases as an intern at WDBJ TV in Roanoke in 2012, according to an internal complaint filed by Flanagan, who was black. “One was something about ‘swinging’ by some place; the other was out in the ‘field,’ ” said the Jan. 21 report by assistant news director Greg Baldwin, which refers to Parker as Alison Bailey (her middle name).
Oh, you think that’s ridiculous? Here’s a tweet that appeared on author Mary Robinette Kowal’s Twitter feed. Yeah… the same Mary Robinette Kowal who thought (and I use that term loosely) that author Sarah Hoyt’s use of the word “Chicom” in a blog post was an “ethnic slur.” So much stupid in one accusation!
@MaryRobinette Offense is defined by the person at whom the comment/slur is directed. Intention isn’t important. How it’s received is
— Jack Teng (Author) (@MyBossIsADroid) August 28, 2015
Let’s get something straight, Cupcakes: You. Do. Not. Have. The. Right. Not. To. Be. Offended.
Did I write that slowly enough for you?
YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT NOT TO BE OFFENDED.
Was that loud enough and emphatic enough for you?
I’m certainly a kind enough person, and I will make an effort to be polite to you, but Jesus Crossdressing Christ on a Moped! If you think I’m going to bend over backwards to ensure that your dainty labia aren’t bruised, you’re sadly mistaken.
Yes, I believe America is the land of opportunity. I come from a country where there is none – especially not for a scrawny Jewish kid, who got beaten up every day for her funny last name and the “Jew” stamped on her official Soviet papers. You disagree? You’re free to. You get offended by this assertion and demand I alter my views so that they won’t offend you? Fuck you.
Yes, I believe everyone should be rewarded based on merit. I believe everyone should have equal opportunities to succeed – not outcomes, but opportunities – and if you think you’re entitled to special privileges and find it offensive that I think you should compete fairly against everyone else, you can shove that offense up your ass.
No, I don’t care if you’re black, white, purple, yellow, polka dotted, or plaid. I will judge you by the content of your character, not the color of your skin, and if you think you’re entitled to special treatment because you happen to be a vibrant shade of green, you aren’t going to get it from me. I will treat you as the person you are, not as the amount of color and the shade your skin happens to be.
And if you look like this, yes I will think you are a freak, and no, I won’t apologize for it. You did this to yourself. You wanted the attention. Now you got it. Oh, it wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted? Too bad, Cupcake.
The fact that you’re offended obligates me to nothing. A right exists among every individual and does not diminish others’ rights when exercised. I have the right to speak, to think, to understand, to criticize, to judge, and to express myself as I see fit. Your pathetic attempts to limit or alter my right to do so is evidence that your butthurt is not a violation of your rights, but simply the mewling of a pathetic, frail sissy who hasn’t been taught how to exist in the real world.
OK, so I don’t have an NRA sticker. Although I’m an ardent gun rights advocate, I am not an NRA member. The NRA and I never really got along all that well. But nonetheless, bear with me here, because I’m about to explain why the NRA sticker says much more about the metrosexual douche pickle who wrote this column than it does about anyone who has that sticker on their vehicle.
I see that NRA decal on the rear window of your car and my eyes narrow. I look at the back of your head in the driver’s seat and I wonder if you are a threat.
A threat to my children. A threat to me. A threat to society.
I see you quivering in your panties about a sticker, and I snicker just a bit. I look at you and I wonder if you ever had any courage, any integrity, and any understanding of the laws and principles on which this nation was founded. And I wonder if you’re a threat.
A threat to my freedoms. A threat to my way of life. A threat to the Constitution.
I see a news report about the latest shooting deaths in the United States. I brace myself for the NRA talking points on social media.
I see a news report about the latest shooting deaths in the United States. I brace myself for screeching politicians and panty shitters like you spreading the “common sense gun control” mantra without an understanding of what that means or the possible unintended consequences of its implementation.
I try not to read them. I fail at that. I am appalled and saddened and sickened and angry.
I always read them, because I need to ensure that I am able and willing to protect my life and the lives of my loved ones against unimaginable evil. I need to remind myself that it exists.
I am reminded why I consider you a potential threat.
I am reminded of why I consider you a sad, pathetic little coward.
To me, that NRA decal on the rear window of your car represents violent death.
To me, your reaction to that NRA decal on the rear window of my car represents gutlessness.
By displaying that NRA decal on the rear window of your car, you are endorsing violent death.
By cringing at that NRA decal, you are endorsing an abdication of your rights and responsibilities as a citizen and as a human being.
By endorsing violent death, you show me that you do not care about the tens of thousands of gun deaths in the United States every year.
By shirking your responsibility to protect yourself and your loved ones you show me that you don’t care how many crimes are stopped and how many lives are potentially saved with the responsible use of firearms.
You don’t care about the gun deaths at Columbine. You don’t care about the gun deaths at Virginia Tech. You don’t care about the gun deaths at Tucson. You don’t care about the gun deaths at Aurora. You don’t care about the gun death at a movie theater up the road from here in Wesley Chapel. You don’t care about the gun deaths at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown. You don’t care about the gun deaths at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston.
You don’t care about the gun deaths this morning at Bridgewater Plaza in Virginia.
You don’t care about the lives Jeanne Assam saved by shooting an armed madman at the New Life Church in Colorado Springs. You don’t care about the toddler who was saved by mom’s dispatching of an intruder breaking into her home. You don’t care about the 9-year-old twins whose lives were saved by their mother using a revolver. You don’t care about the countless lives of students that Joel Myrick saved by retrieving a gun from his car and stopping Luke Woodham at Pearl High School. You don’t care about the lives of the congregants at the Boiling Springs’ South Side Freewill Baptist Church that were saved by one man taking responsibility for the lives of others. You don’t care about the lives of innocent shoppers at Clackamas Mall that were saved after an armed citizen confronted a gunman. You don’t care about the construction workers whose lives were saved because one armed foreman stopped a disgruntled employee. You certainly don’t care about hospital workers, doctors, nurses, and patients whose lives were saved by one armed doctor after a mental patient marched in and started shooting. And we know you don’t give a rancid rat’s ass about the twins whose lives were saved by their teenage brother after intruders broke into their home.
That is what the NRA decal displayed in the rear window of your car tells me.
Is that fair?
Nope. It’s also not rational, but we don’t expect fairness, justice, and logic from quivering self-soilers who infer all this nonsense from a simple window sticker.
Is it just of me to conclude that you don’t care about the loss of human life because of the proliferation of guns in the U.S., simply because you choose to display an NRA decal in the rear window of your car?
Maybe not. Yet, how am I to know that you are not the next “good guy with a gun” to snap?
Here’s a clue, dimwit: The vast majority of NRA members are law-abiding citizens. But more than that, how do you know? You don’t. I don’t either. And while crimes of passion are relatively rare, since I don’t know, I’d rather be able to at least try to defend myself with an effective tool than cower, soil myself in fear, and hope the bad guy goes away. I’d rather have a fighting chance. But then again, I’m a responsible adult, not a sniveling coward.
How am I to know that something about the way I drive, or something about the way your day or life is going, or something imagined by you and unimaginable to me triggers the compulsion to shoot, and to kill?
If you really believe that you might be a trigger for someone’s violent road rage, wouldn’t you rather be able to defend yourself and potentially save your own life and those of your kids? Oh, wait… I forgot… Your mangina forbids such acts of masculine courage.
Because of that NRA decal in the rear window of your car, because I am the father of two beautiful boys who are growing up with a backdrop of rampant gun violence, the only responsible conclusion for me to draw is that you are armed – and dangerous. That you are a threat. That you could, if you chose, pull out your gun and shoot me or my children without a thought or even provocation.
Because of your whimpering reaction to my NRA decal, and because I’m the mother of two beautiful, responsible children, one of whom is a U.S. Marine, while the other is an ROTC student at UNC Charlotte, and both of whom were able to responsibly use firearms under adult supervision, and later on their own, since they were tiny tots, the only logical conclusion for me to draw is that you are a coward, who is an easy victim for armed thugs, who doesn’t care enough about the lives of those beautiful boys to take steps to responsibly defend them.
Maybe that is not fair. Maybe you are a gentle, kind person who happens to enjoy shooting sports.
Maybe you are an ignorant and have no comprehension of what the Second Amendment is about.
Here is a fair conclusion, though: You care more about your “right” to own a gun than you care about my right to live without the fear that members of my family or my friends might be shot and killed at school, at the movies, in our car, on the job, in church … anywhere. Anywhere at all.
Here’s a fair conclusion, though: Your inclusion of the word “right” in quotation marks shows you have no concept of what a right actually is. You are incapable of comprehending that your “right” to live without fear does not obligate me or anyone else to stroke your pusillanimous fantasies and make you feel all comfy and cozy. You care about your imagined “right” to impose your cowardice and ignorance on millions of innocent people who happen to be gun owners. You are a selfish prick.
It is more important to you that the 300 million guns in the United States remain in the hands of their owners than it is for my children to grow up in a country where violent gun deaths are an anomaly, rather than the norm.
It’s more important to you to impose your arbitrary, subjective standards of “security” on others than recognize that others should have the ability to protect themselves without whining invertebrates such as you forcing them to conform to your gutless wankery.
You would rather risk more lives, thousands more, than take responsible action on gun control. In your world, there is an “acceptable” number of violent gun deaths.
You would rather see your fellow citizens defenseless at the nonexistent mercy of armed thugs than put on your big boy pants, man up, and support all law-abiding citizens’ right to defend themselves with the most effective tool on the market today.
I conclude that about you, because you choose to display that NRA decal in the rear window of your car.
I conclude that you’re a heartless, senseless, hysterical, walking mangina because you view your fellow Americans as threats merely by looking at a decal on their car window.
How does it feel to know that the father, the husband, the son, the friend, the writer in the car behind you is afraid of what you might do because of that NRA decal displayed in the rear window of your car?
It makes me feel sad for the state of our society that sniveling pussies like you exist, that you will likely raise your sons to be just as gutless and sad as you are, and that some poor woman chose to reproduce with you in the first place.
How does that feel to you?
Actually … never mind.
I don’t think I want to know.
You wrote that senseless dreck, so now you know.
Note: Apparently this sad little excuse for a gonad didn’t like the response he received from his fellow Americans, whom he frames as potential threats for absolutely no reason, so he shut the comments down for his blog. It’s typical. He apparently couldn’t respond in a mature, rational way, so rather than put in the effort, he simply decided to shut down others’ ability to respond to his drivel. Much like his response to an NRA label in someone’s window, this makes him a coward.