There is Some Sh*t I Will Not Eat

Bigots for Bucks

A morning radio host where I live was recently suspended after posting videos caricaturing people who live in a particular neighbourhood in the city. It is a lower middle class area besieged by vice and poverty-related crime and also home to a sizeable share of the city’s Aboriginals. Meanwhile, the radio host is a white middle-aged guy who grew up in an upper middle-class white neighborhood. The optics of a white guy mining laughs at the expense of the city’s poor and disenfranchised were tragic, especially since our city was, just a year ago, rated by a Canadian national news magazine as “The Most Racist City in Canada.”

I am aware how difficult it is for regular, middle-class white men to have “political correctness,” lorded over their heads since the nineties. It’s as if society is suggesting they are all bigots, forcing the whole to make amends for the excesses of the few. As a man, I feel the instant sense of similar recoiling when confronted with the idea that I am part of the “rape culture.” But then I resist the urge to soothe a bruised ego by man-splaining to generations of suppressed female voices why their “so-called grievances” are way off base – because I said so. Instead, I try to remain open to the possibility of a worldview different than that historically fashioned by generations of self-aggrandizing dicks.

The idea of “political correctness” is to encourage us to make a mental leap out of our situated selves, and examine our words and actions as if from the perspective of the “other” person BEFORE we unleash them. If the radio host in my town had paused for one second to ask himself “would I think this was funny if I were an Aboriginal?” my sense is he would never have posted the video.

A moment of “political correctness” would have prevented him inflicting a significant insult on countless Aboriginal Canadians in my town, many of whom are rightly sitting on the fence about the merits of joining white society. It would also have prevented many from believing him to be an unabashed racist. That is the point of political correctness; not to tar white men as bigots, but to compel us all to look before we leap, because our tolerance for insensitivity has worn thin. It is a word of caution that a nasty fate awaits he who is unable to restrain his mouth from uttering whatever bigoted detritus was  deposited in the recesses of his mind by the infinite possible sources in our culture.

This is one simple example of the reason why a strong social ethic that frowns on bigotry is still necessary. I’m no fan of “political correctness” because it has been appropriated by the very douchebags it was meant to counter, and they have masterfully turned it into a slur to rival the daily barrage of racist, misogynist, xenophobic slurs they unleash from their intellectual anuses. It’s a sensible idea made senseless by the those who extol their claim to “freedom” with bigoted, craven bombast like a noxious-smelling badge of honour.

The counterpoint to the idea that “freedom” bestows unbounded rights to slander and incite hatred of the marginalized, is the notion that the establishment of social norms against blatant insensitivity is necessary to protect the powerless from wanton bullying. It prevents oppressive biases in the dominant collective mind from being matter-of-factly vomited out of our mouths and victimizing innocent, disenfranchised bystanders. It is to ensure our societies are inclusive and don’t condone behaviours that alienate and exclude large swaths of its people. Insensitive, hurtful speech is a passive aggressive way to discourage the disenfranchised from opting-in to society. Mean-spirited words matter; in powerful, irresponsible hands they propagate the systematic, violent demise of those they target.

Anyone who is on the receiving end of bigoted knee-slapping has asked themselves this question at various points in their lives “is my desire to participate in society really worth the mental anguish to endure this?” In a pluralistic society that recognizes the rights and equality of all, nobody should have to face this kind of bar to their success. Since laws against bigotry are out of line, the only tool left is that of a strong ethic of social resistance to deeds that are divisive and damaging to social harmony.

I find it revealing when someone blasts “political correctness” as a bane that forces their mouth shut all the time. It says something damning about the content of a mind if every thought it produces is so offensive it shouldn’t be uttered. Here’s a test; if a part of you has to ask “is this offensive?” it probably is. This should be a source of relief; it means the part of your brain other animals lack functioned exactly as nature intended. It will continue to do so if you regularly consult it and pay it heed. The energy needed to resist the social ethic discouraging jokes that directly or indirectly denigrate women, minorities, Muslims, or foreigners, is much better spent examining why it is your mind is teeming with misogyny, racism, religious intolerance, and xenophobia in the first place.

On this subject, one of my favourite bloggers suggested there are a few social issues that are out of bounds for humourous treatment – rape, drug addiction, and mental illness among them. On the surface it’s hard to disagree, but my sense is there are no absolutes in this either. There is always context and intention – who is making the joke, how, and to whom. My feeling is, if you were never on the inside, don’t make the joke.

It’s why there are some jokes that, if I were a white guy, I simply wouldn’t make. True, it is your right to make the joke. The so-called dictates of “political correctness” are not trying to deprive you of those rights. But they will compel I or others to call you out as a bigot if you say something that is blatantly racist, intolerant, misogynist, or xenophobic. If you seek to poison mine and others existence with bigoted speech you should no longer expect to enjoy a consequence-free existence as you would have in another century.

I try not to make light of pain and suffering I haven’t personally experienced – it looks too much as though I’m laughing at another’s pain, which is deplorable. If I am lucky to garner a laugh at a serious social issue I see to it that it is at my expense alone. When I am lampooning any of the afflictions that dog me I try not to implicate all who share in the struggle. I talk about my issues in relation to me, and don’t presume anyone else experiences the issue similarly. I don’t know that I have always been successful in getting this right but I really try to think before I speak and hope the good part of my brain catches up when the bad parts of my mouth do the hundred-metre dash, as they are inclined from time to time.

It’s a delicate balance, but I believe it’s a risk worth taking. There are too many issues that need to be out in the open and one way to do so while reaching the widest segment of society is through humour. Avoiding conversations about the harsh truths of existence allows voices of ignorance to construct the narrative, with the risk of re-victimizing those who have drawn the short straw. I think there is merit in sharing our experiences, to reveal the truth of the human condition as, among other things, a constant engagement with calamity and despair. It’s a bummer, but it also puts the onus more squarely on ourselves to add joy wherever we can. If we can demonstrate we’ve lived through the downer moments, and do so in a lighthearted way, it elevates the hope in others that it is possible to find joy somewhere in our pain.

Blogs that explore personal subjects have been instrumental to increased self-compassion, even if the humorous approach does at times touch a raw nerve. Laughter is a non-threatening means by which people can be made to understand the pain around them, which they may inflame by their ignorance or insensitivity. The process of self-awareness is more likely to begin after a laugh than it is at the end of a righteous-indignant finger pointed. Throwing a pie in the face of your persecutor is a moral victory in some senses, it is a way to fight back without degenerating into violence.

Humour can be an effective tool to close a mind and to open it, which is why it is a double-edged sword in irresponsible hands. When we hold up the mirror to our worst selves it is the humour that will ensure we do not look away in shame. But it can also cause harm if the blade isn’t wielded skilfully when the treading needs to be more delicate. Sadly, some people just can’t help slicing and dicing everyone else around them for their own gain.

It seems we’re living in a time where society’s top notches are looking to protect their interests by recklessly sowing seeds of bigotry, giving life to poison trees that flourish in minds struggling with the perils of existence. It is important as decent human beings to resist the desperate cravings that sometimes propel us to swallow the easy meal served up as a balm to our insecurities. The indulgence in bigotry, misogyny, and xenophobia is the worst of all the forbidden fruit we may choose to eat. For the fleeting pleasure of an outlet for your angst you will be reeling with ideas that rob you of your soul; that render you incapable of seeing yourself in your fellow humans; that subordinate the harm you inflict beneath the need for a laugh to quiet your tears.

Call it “political correctness” call it “decency.” Whatever you do, set your mind free from the self-serving bigotry that divides us all to line the pockets of the few. When they tell you “political correctness” is the thing that keeps you down, tell them “there is some shit I will not eat.”

 

Ho! Ho! Hold Your “Holiday Cups”!

Fuck It Santa Claus

This shit ain’t what it used to be Frosty!

It’s that time of year again. Christmas. I’ve never been keen on the consumerist, golden-calf worship that typifies much of the festivities. At an early age the shallowness and affected spirituality of the season rubbed me the wrong way, and compelled me to discount Christianity as a total sham. Since I was in my teens, the tidal wave of syrupy Christmas carols and the displacement of Jesus as a cultural icon by the likes of Santa Claus and his trademark slogan “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” struck me as cruel, secular perversions of something supposedly Divine.

Despite how I feel about the spectacle, I’ve taken it all in stride, save for one of the more recent hallmarks in the modern Christmas tradition: angry white people ranting about being unable to see, hear, and say “Merry Christmas” wherever they go. They never explicitly identify the object of their derision, but “political correctness” is offered as the culprit. It’s the usual canard for reactionaries who resent forces of moderation encouraging WASPs to be less intolerant, less disparaging than is our knee-jerk custom.

In this instance, the ire is roused by throngs of non-Christian visible minorities whose presence has forced them to keep the volume on their all-night Christmas party at a tolerable level so their beleaguered neighbors of other creeds can get some shut-eye. For the next two spirit-crushing months, not only will I have six hundred different versions of the seven most popular Christmas carols stabbed into my ears wherever I go, but I will also experience a daily barrage of witless protests by nearly every WASP over fifty-five decrying the total ruin of Christmas whenever they see the words “Happy Holidays.”

To mourn the degradation of Christmas, my social media feeds will be littered with videos by irate, aging white guys ranting about how, in the good old days before non-European immigration, folks could rifle off “Merry Christmas” without worrying it would hit the ears of a Hindu and make them feel like a heel. Already, I’ve seen renowned Christian scholar Donald Trump blasting Starbucks for their “Holiday Cups.” It’s only November and my highly-reactive, bleeding-heart-liberal spleen has suffered countless beatings from this nonsense.

Me not caring about what Starbucks puts on cupsIn addition to sermons from Monsignor Trump, I will see loads of internet memes with pictures of Christmas icons like Bing Crosby juxtaposed with lame, racially-tinged quotes wistful at the sad fact Christmas will never be as white as it once was. In the stores and malls I will hear indignant, Baby Boomer whites huffing under their breath when they hear a store cashier say “Season’s Greetings” to the brown customer they’ve just served. There will be much indignant pondering as to why there is no Christmas tree in the lobby at work.

I understand how odd it must feel for those who, for much of their lives, didn’t have to concern themselves with these issues. I admit, it does require a mental shift to accept the new reality of all these non-Christians we knew were “out there” before, but who are now in our stores and workplaces today, forcing us to tone down our carnal urge to break out into spontaneous choruses of “Here Comes Santa Claus.” Change, especially when it concerns something cherished, like the birth of your religion’s namesake, can be difficult to fathom.

But that’s not really what we are talking about with this grievance is it? We are talking about guarding the sanctity, not of the words of Christ our Lord, but the slogan of Santa Claus, the pagan idol, second-stringer who’s been quarterbacking the Christmas season in place of Jesus for the last fifty years.

Using “Merry Christmas” sparingly in favour of more neutral language reflects an awareness and sensitivity to the existence of so many people among us raised in different traditions. It is enough that in every facet of their lives outside their home, non-Christians are forced to participate to a degree in a tradition they do not share. They experience Christmas at the store, at work, at the restaurant – virtually everywhere. Why not spare them the experience of shoving our “Merry Christmas” cream pie in their face? Christians should easily concede the slogan has no real connection with genuine Christianity – other than the word Christ. Its cultural significance was stamped in our minds not by its association with Jesus in the Gospels, but by its identification with Santa Claus.

Given this reality, the decline of this slogan in favour of more neutral language is a small, conciliatory gesture of respect to those non-Christians among us. It is a way to acknowledge the existence of other faiths by moderating our conduct, just a tad. Such a minor adjustment does nothing to degrade the Christian faith. That degradation was well underway as Santa Claus, his reindeer, and elves at the North Pole became the true cultural icons at Christmas time. The putrefaction intensified, ironically, as Santa’s “Merry Christmas” slogan became more synonymous with Christmas than anything authentically Christian.

Certainly, those disconsolate about the fact of millions from different cultures and creeds living among us have had plenty of time to adjust to the realities of global migration that stirs their fears. The Hindus, Sikhs, Muslims, Buddhists, and others in our communities weren’t dropped off by the millions in an airlift yesterday afternoon. They’ve been coming in waves for decades and have set down roots. It is their home too. Dare I say, maybe it is also time to finally tip our hats to those of the Jewish faith who have gracefully endured our unbridled winter paganism for generations. I think they are due for a break. If anything, those fearful of losing Santa Claus could benefit from the Jewish example about how to sustain true faith and spirituality without having to resort to shallowness and bombast.

How the f*ck am I supposed to know what season it is if they don't plaster

How the heck am I supposed to know what season it is if they don’t plaster “Merry Christmas” all over my coffee cup? Starbucks. Bunch of Jesus-haters.
(PHOTO CREDIT – Starbucks)

I say this with the hope that those publicly airing their grievances about this issue will understand how foolish and, sadly, racist they appear. I do not really think legions of grown adults genuinely believe that, since we began letting in hordes of un-Christian immigrants, everything that held our national spirits together – Santa Claus, Christmas trees, Frosty the Snowman, and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer – has gone to pieces. It is something else about the issue that stirs them.

Whether they realize it or not, their anger betrays a variant of racially-motivated nostalgia that is unhealthy in a pluralistic, democratic society. Those who do not keep this emotion in check ignore the destruction the very same sentiments caused in the early 20th century. Every time there is a terrorist attack linked to Islamic extremists, the same people angered about the “Merry Christmas” issue are posting videos or commentaries on my social media feeds deriding Islam, open immigration policies, and everything else that is foreign in the eyes of a WASP. It is disappointing to behold people I otherwise deeply respect sharing media that are profoundly ignorant and intolerant. I know they are good people who are obviously unable to contain their fears about a world that seems in chaos. They need now, more than ever, to work harder to keep perspective; to maintain the goodness I know is in their hearts. I confess, I’d rather not have to engage in such moral reconciliations about friends at Christmas time.

It needs to be said that immigrants didn’t choose our countries to get in on the Christmas festivities. Many of those living among us with different faiths had no choice but to leave their homelands in search of safety and economic security. The newcomers came, not to crowd-out the Christian faith, or spread their own, but so they and their families could survive.

Given the underlying spirit of the season, this reality should encourage us to embrace those whose presence signifies something hopeful and new; something unique and different than existed before. We should each do our part in fostering harmony between the cultures in our community and helping each other to succeed. Our presence here shares a common narrative with those who’ve more recently arrived; that of leaving hardships behind to forge a better life for generations to come. For some of us, our ancestors got here earlier, and look at our good fortune.

It is this universal human story, when juxtaposed against the stridency and the triviality that belies this seasonal protest, which drives me mad. Good people should not be so pissed off at fellow humans whose presence is predicated by the realities of hardship we all share. Those who raise the demise of “Merry Christmas” as a cultural lightning rod are losing their minds to something absolutely inane, and it makes them unable to contain a latent chauvinism that taints their otherwise good-nature. To publicly air such sentiments is contemptuous of the generosity of spirit and boundless love for all creatures Jesus extols, so you should stop. It’s bloody Christmas, after all.

The decline of genuine Christian affinity that is the sub-text of this hysteria long pre-dates the influx of people living among us of other faiths. Christianity won’t be watered-down any more than it already has by a less profligate use of secular slogans on our coffee cups or in our workplaces. Christianity, at least in North America, has long been a gaunt spiritual force in our societies; the nutriments to sustain an authentic faith leeched into the same gutter at the locus of our much stronger affinity to unbounded greed and capitalism.

Those yelling at the top of their lungs imploring the brown masses of other faiths to embrace Santa Claus and exhort “Merry Christmas” with the rest of us pagans, might instead be advised to heed the teachings of Jesus. Wouldn’t it be interesting to see how much more rewarding it is to persuade with exemplary actions rather than angry words?

I will let Jesus himself have the final word about the season. The wisdom below is taken from the Bible, which I doubt most have ever read; too exhausted as they are from shopping, drinking, binge-eating, and singing Christmas carols. I know, by din of the racially-motivated invective despoiling the season, many are not heeding its words. The excerpts are from the Gospel of Mark, taken from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, which appears in Chapters five through seven.

Season’s Greetings and Happy Holidays to all!

I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’