If
you've been reading these essays, by now you know that I'm a hermit.
I hate people and I hate small talk. Mostly people try to inflate
themselves with their comments, and I'm not impressed because I'm so
much better than they. (For the record, I'm
condescending and arrogant. I'm opinionated. I'm a curmudgeon.
Contrary to those in Paul's audience, I don't suffer fools gladly. I
hate (small) people and small talk. The people are a waste of time
and their views border on idiocy.
As
for my bad points, I occasionally doubt myself, which doesn't make
much sense because I'm never wrong. But we all have our weaknesses,
and my most foolish is that I give others the benefit of the doubt
when they don't deserve it. If they doubt me they warrant no
benefit.)
I
prefer solitude and silence. Well, music is OK. But, apart from
news, I'm not much interested in what is said on the radio. And even
the news broadcasts seem to be designed more to entertain rather than
inform. I'm word weary. There doesn't seem to be any refuge from
Man's inanity. As I said, I prefer silence. But, according to Jean
Arp (1887-1948),
Soon silence
will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day
after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and
distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation,
meditation. Tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing,
whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego.
What's worse, is that the
situation is deteriorating day by day. Arp wrote in the first half
of the last century, and since then the technology has gotten more
sophisticated and the language more corrupted. I won't waste my time
discussing the infernal electronic gadgets with which we communicate,
but I'll limit my remarks to the content – the “corrupted”
language. I'm not suggesting that languages don't change with time.
They all do. It's to be expected. A few years from now English will
be different. And in the past it was different. The English of
Chaucer is completely foreign as far as I'm concerned, and
Shakespeare is difficult for me when I don't have any commentary to
help me. But they're not the problem.
What
concerns me more is the way we now use our native tongue. Like, I
mean, whatever. Even fillers like “like” have always been an
acceptable part of the language, and these, too, are of no great
concern (aside from sounding stupid to me). Similarly, words
borrowed from other languages – whether they represent specific
items like “chutney,” or concepts like “Schadenfreude”
– have been adopted and have strengthened English.
More horrifying for me –
and what makes me glad that I talk to so few people – is the
decision to make our language more and more a political tool. It's
not something new. We have long recognized not only that the pen is
mightier than the sword, but that the basis of this idea is that
words are powerful. Too many among us feel we need protection from
some of them.
But
modern society has gone too far. We've decided that our first
responsibility is to spare the feelings of others. On the assumption
that whatever we find indelicate will spark the same feeling in
others, we have substituted euphemisms for all “unpleasant” words
and ideas. For example, a cretin (in the correct medical sense of
the term) is “special,” “challenged:” a dwarf (also a useful
medical concept) has “stature issues.” A person we used to call
“queer” is now “gay” (although the LGBT population has no
problem with the term as is illustrated by such groups as, for
example, The
Queer Film Society
and The
Association for Queer
Anthropology),
and if a movie like “The
Gay
Divorcee”
were remade, the Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire roles would have to
be changed significantly. Meanwhile the English language has lost a
useful word and concept.
And
Ginger Rogers would no longer be an actress. We consider it
demeaning to have a feminine term for “actor,” although may
languages are gender based. (By the way, “gender” is a
linguistic term substituted for “sex” in our culture for a
variety of reasons that I won't discuss here.) But nowadays we've
tailored our language to egalitarian concepts. She doesn't exist
anymore. (That's “she,” not she. We haven't eliminated women –
just the pronoun.) And our new gender-free language sacrifices
itself on the altar of egalitarian ideas. The singular pronoun for
man is “they.” The singular pronoun for woman is “they.” We
rebel at the idea of sexually classifying anyone. Male chauvinism
must be expunged.
Indeed, we don't risk
offending someone else in any way (such as saying “I see”
in the presence of one who is blind visually
impaired). If something is offensive to any individual we view it as
an attack, whether sexual, racial, ethnic, or “whatever.” And
that makes it hate speech, which is not politically correct (PC).
It's considered by the PC police as offending or causing some
disadvantage, or even discomfort, to someone or some group. It
doesn't matter if the charge is true. If made, it takes precedence
over the Constitution and any right of free speech. And even the
accusation of such an offense is enough to tar the accused.
Another imagined crime is
“microaggression” which is the interpretation of something that
is said, by anyone, as an attack. Such a charge may not be justified
by the words themselves or the interpretations of others, but if an
individual believes he they is (awkward – in fact
wrong – but I don't want to offend anyone) being attacked, everyone
must accept that judgment. Paranoia can govern reality.
And there is the demand in
too many places for “trigger warnings.” That's the equivalent in
other circumstances of movie ratings (like G, PG, R, X, and others)
but it's transferred to schools, libraries, and similar settings.
Part of the first paragraph of an article in a recent issue of The
Atlantic is illuminating:
Last December, Jeannie
Suk wrote in an online article for The New Yorker about law students
asking her fellow professors at Harvard not to teach rape law—or,
in one case, even use the word violate (as in “that violates the
law”) lest it cause students distress.
There is a belief among many
that people should be warned against books or lectures or anything
else that may cause them distress. They should be able to protect
themselves from any unpleasant ideas, or concepts with which they
disagree. That college students, who presumably are there to be
exposed to new, and possibly uncomfortable, ideas should be protected
from them, is idiotic, but that's the view of some.
What we're left with is an
unrecognizable, emasculated (my word processor had no gender- neutral
word for this) language, which restricts our thinking rather than
expands it. We are losing the free speech of which we boast. And
all in the name of sensitivity.
It doesn't make sense. I'm
glad I'm a hermit.
Next
episode: “Heresy”
– Sticks without stones won't break very much.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I know you agree, but you can leave comments anyway.