When the term “political correctness” appeared on the American landscape in the 1980s, it addressed an endemic societal problem: discrimination. A whiff of the radicalized 1960s still in the air, it seemed logical, just, and, well, politically correct, to right these wrongs inflicted by language and the very words we use. After all, words have power. Which is why Negro became the N-word became Negro again became Colored became Black became African-American. Which reminds me of the well-meaning-yet-clueless white American tourist on vacation in Nairobi. He turns to his wife and exclaims, “Boy, look at all the African-Americans!” Yes, words do have power. A single utterance by our very own President of the United States—“covfefe”—illustrated to the entire world the power of a well-chosen word. But I digress.
Since the 1980s, a new lexicon has come about, replete with sanitized terms and vague, innocuous euphemisms…
“Girl” becomes "woman", unless the woman is actually a girl. “Cripple” becomes “handicapped”, unless the handicapped person plays golf.
“What’s your handicap?” his new partner asks.
“Fuck you!” the handicapped person indignantly replies.
A fat person becomes “big boned” becomes someone with an “alternative body image.” A blind person becomes “sight impaired” becomes “visually challenged.” A deaf person, “hearing impaired” to “aurally challenged.” A retarded person, “mentally handicapped” to “mentally challenged” to President. A midget becomes a dwarf becomes a “little person” becomes “vertically challenged.” On and on it goes, with no end in sight, as today, thirty years later, practically anything is offensive to someone. We must be constantly on guard with our every utterance for fear of some inadvertent denigration. You’re right! The word “denigration” derives from the Latin verb denigrare, meaning "to blacken.” Which of course is RACIST! Duh! The word dates back to the 16th Century, when EVERYONE was racist. And don’t get me started on the words “niggardly” (stingy) and “snigger” (a half-suppressed laugh). So I guess I can no longer watch my favorite TV show, “The Blacklist”, unless they change it to “The List of the Nefarious & Negatively-Inclined”. It’s getting to the point where we can’t even have a casual conversation without getting hopelessly mired in political correctness…
ME: I’m thinking of getting a new car.
PC PERSON: You mean, Air-Polluting Planet Desecrator?
ME: Yes, sorry. That’s what I meant.
PC PERSON: What kind of APPD are you getting?
ME: I’m thinking something big, you know, like…
PC PERSON: A Privileged American Penis Substitute?
ME: Well, I was thinking of a pick-up truck.
PC PERSON: Oh. My. God.
PC PERSON: That is so offensive to women!
PC PERSON: As if women are all prostitutes waiting to be picked up for your sexual gratification!
ME: Um, sorry, I… Okay, how ‘bout an SUV?
PC PERSON: You mean, Engorged Capitalist Fossil Fuel Glutton?
ME: Yeah, I guess.
PC PERSON: So, what color?
PC PERSON: Yes.
ME: Um…........ white?
PC PERSON: Hmm…
PC PERSON: Pale Entitled World Oppressor.
Enough is enough! I’m a writer, and NO ONE is going to tell me what words I can and cannot use. Fuck those fucking fuckers! And besides, it’s Fascist! So here now is my answer to the euphemistic cancer that is what Political Correctness has become:
white person: white fuck
black person: black fuck
crippled person: cripple fuck
fat person: fat fuck
short person: short fuck
ugly person: ugly fuck
dumb person: dumb fuck
Asian person: Asian fuck
Mexican person: Mexican fuck
American person: American fuck
and for men and women in general: fuck (as in, “Look at that fuck!”)
I need a fucking drink…
PC FU CK U
1 part Amaro Montenegro*
1 part Tres Agaves Blanco Tequila
¼ part Aperol
¼ part fresh-squeezed Lemon juice
½ part Canada Dry Club Soda
dash of Peychaud’s bitters
Shake everything but Club Soda over ice. Stir in Club Soda.
Pour into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.
*This should be called Amaro Monteafrican-american.