What the hell kind of site is this?

For starters, it's crap. This site is total crap, so don't expect much because I'm an idiot. This site is my sketch book, my side project and my feeble attempt to connect with other talentless idiots.

Here, I post my pitiful political cartoons, funny videos made by people far more talented than I am, weird news stories, boring rants about Democrats and the Republican Party, weak observations about freedom of religion and other concepts I only barely understand, and lots of other crap. I guess the key point to take away from this is that most of what you'll find here is total crap.

-Blue Steel

Political Correctness is "A militia mindset where thinking one thing but saying another has become America's disingenuous piety game."

Another guy who just can't seem to "get it." I feel bad for him because he has no idea what he's doing wrong. It's amazing to me how people have such a tough time knowing what's right and wrong to say in mixed racial company. Why's it so tough?

I was raised in the two most racially diverse states in America, went to school and lived with people of different races my entire life, and I've never ONCE gotten into a situation like the one this guy did here.

The author of this article wants the rules written down in an instruction manual -- Proper Racial Etiquette -- but I don't think it works that way. You just get a feel for people and what's appropriate to say around them. A big part of it is observing, getting a sense of a crowd and how they're responding to you, and also realizing beforehand when you should be careful how you say whatever you say. It's not hard. It's not a big inconvenience and doesn't tap your mental faculties. It's no different than watching what you say around your elders.

Maybe you either have "it" or you don't. Step #1, though, is caring enough about strangers to not want to offend them.

Quote:
Years ago, I was the emcee at a fashion store's recognition breakfast. Between awards, I cracked inside jokes indigenous to retail culture. In one shtick, I lampooned about another 'perk' being added to the non-existent prizes, zanily announcing: "winners will have their phone calls to alterations answered in English."

See, you groaned. So did half the audience. I was mortified, later crucified. This, despite hourly complaints from store employees who resented being forced to physically go to alterations to get an item (while customers waited) rather than having it delivered, because people on the phone spoke only Spanish and they spoke none.

This is when I was first introduced to the "'Gotcha' Thought Police", a militia mindset where thinking one thing but saying another has become America's disingenuous piety game.

Meanwhile, quoting the smarmy department manager who condemned my "racist remark": "I don't call them 'Mexicans.' I call them 'Spanish people.' It doesn't sound so low class." So who's the racist here?