I remember being young, one of the irritating things was old people blathering on about how great things used to be, while at the same time stifling you from making YOUR “now” great.
Tired old farts preoccupied with planning, and caution, and safety. There is a time and place for those things, but even at those times, those things should only be used in moderation. Think of all you have done that was fun. The spirit in which you jumped into “fun” had little to do with planning, caution or safety. Joy has little to do with them, because often the root of those things is fear.
Think of a bike. Jumps, and off roading, and riding as fast as you can, and spins and tricks…you can’t do that with training wheels on. Training wheels are safe. They ensure you can never fall over…they also ensure you can’t have very much fun.
Political correctness is training wheels for your brain.
Over the course of your life, tired old farts have screwed them to you mind piling on cautionary tales of woe should you ever take them off. And they have done you a huge disservice. They have kept you peddling along at 5 miles and hour in a straight line, constantly worried about the three foot drop. Sure, once in a while you might take a fall with no training wheels on but mostly it’s just a lot of fun. Just like being P.C. rarely actually causes anyone any damage, and not worrying about it is more fun . They have convinced you to go around worried about what is and is not “offensive”. They have bastardized the word and stifled your mind.
Something “offensive” makes you sick to your stomach. Have you actually ever seen anything that was deemed “offensive”, by the current definition, that made you sick to your stomach? They have stifled you ability to communicate, stifled your ability to laugh and look for the funny in things.
You see someone dressed like an Indian for Halloween, does that actually make you sick to your stomach? Or do you just understand that it is “offensive”. Offensive to who? If you are not sick to your stomach, are you offended in solidarity of someone else? Who? on behalf of someone else? Who? Did anyone there get sick to their stomach upon seeing the costume? Is there someone at this costume party who turned pale or shook with rage? I have a better question…why are you worried about this at a party instead of trying to get laid? Getting drunk? Turning the music up? Ingesting something that a doctor would tell you not to, in amounts not recommended? Why are you not trying to see who can jump off the roof into the bushes? Or drawing dicks with a sharpie on the face of someone who passed out? You are pissing away your entire youth worried about what some old f*ck told you to worry about.
That is a cartoon fetus. I published that in 1999. It was cutting edge and borderline offensive back then. I didn’t draw a religious icon in some absurd scenario, I didn’t write a bunch of black people jokes, or Mexican jokes. Why? certainly I wasn’t worried about offending anyone, quit the contrary..none of those things would have been edgy of even sniff at being offensive back then. That is how far you let these old slobs swing things backwards. Saying a joke about a black guy, a Jew, and a Priest would have been…lame. boring. Yawn. The cartoon fetus jokes I do are still cutting edge and pushing the envelope…why? Because the generation behind me whose job it is to push things even further have been conned into going backwards and stifling any notion that could be funny, interesting, or absurdly entertaining, worrying about some mythical human being who might burst into tears.
Your generation is the first to forfeit the job of doing cutting edge work to middle aged white guys. Middle aged white guys ain’t supposed to be the ones pushing the envelope. That cartoon Fetus, that’s pretty damn offensive if you want to be offended…but if you don’t, then it’s just really damn funny. What it SHOULD be though, is a quaint old fashioned idea of cutting edge.
You have let them drag you back to a time of intolerance and over-sensitivity to humor that predates the first thing I scribbled onto a comic book page. When I drew that, if someone in their 20’s would have told someone else in their 20’s that something was “politically incorrect” or “offensive” it would have been the last time that person ever got laid, was invited to a party, or brought on board for anything fun, dangerous, or joyfully reckless.
I can sum up the attitude that existed before the man started telling you to watch what you and your friends say…
I’m going to say whatever the hell I want, and for revenge you can say what ever the hell you want and once that’s over we’re gonna get drunk and take turns getting pulled behind this truck on a makeshift go-cart.
It is simple, if it was meant to be funny than all you should worry about is whether or not it was funny. Offensive doesn’t enter into it unless the person is saying something with the express purpose of being an asshole. If some lets loose a racial slur, or something sexist, or anything esle not “P.C.” trying to be funny, and no one burst into flames then the only question is was it funny? If he said it to be an asshole then just don’t hang around with him anymore, because eventually his assholeness will cause him to do something that is actually a problem..like drinking the last beer.
You live by that and let the training wheels fall of and the world is a grand place. Someone calls me a Dego, if he didn’t mean anything by it, than any amount of time and effort spend on it is WASTING THE PRECIOUS TIME THERE IS BEING YOUNG AND ALIVE.
Being older and on the other side of the looking glass now I can tell you, there are old people who envy your youth. You know what envy is…it makes people try to ruin the things that they envy, so that no one else can have what they don’t have. It is petty. Those training wheel they stuck on you are petty.
You getting drunk and jumping your bike off a ramp..an old person would never do that and would shout words of caution. Why? Because that stunt would have their tired old bones in the hospital for a week. You on the other hand won’t even feel it by the next morning. That’s if the jump goes wrong, it could go wrong…or you could end up doing something really awesome. Same thing with the rest of it. That old fart is at corporate a job full of other uptight old farts and the wrong word will cause plenty of trouble. You on the other hand are hanging out with a bunch of people your age who’s priorities are focused on what is fun right now. You should be able to say whatever you want, act however you want. You’re all friends ain’t ya? You’re all decent people or you wouldn’t be friends so what difference does some offhanded comment make? It doesn’t. There is no podium with a hot mic in front of it, no H.R. Department. Live it up.
Be honest with yourselves…no one actually cares. Not really. You’ve just been told you care. And something is only offensive if someone actually cares, therefor nothing in your universe is actually offensive. Nor should it be when you are under 30, because you are too damn busy doing things you can’t do once you are old.
I am old now, but I don’t, and didn’t, ever worry about what was offensive. About what is unjust? sure! What is unfair? Yes! Offensive? nah. I don’t have time for that. That is the concern of old ladies with church hats on who have to fan themselves when an off word is spoken lest they faint. I said a lot of outrageous things, did a lot of insensitive pranks, got in heated arguments, was involved in bizarre and ingenious conversations, risky behavior, dangerous stunts, slept with beautiful women, and made long term meaningful friendships because of all of it. and no one can ever take that away from me…even when I am older and grey and broken down all that joy, and fun, and camaraderie still happened. and I will be able to cherish every minute of it.
So….what the f*ck are you doing? Protesting some thing or another walking around with half your brain on the look out for what is offensive and the other half making sure you aren’t offensive? Seems like a colossal waste of time…but hey maybe it’s not, after all, look how much fun those people telling you what to worry about seem to be.
Think about the term “the man”, the phrase “fight the system”. Ain’t “the man” and “the system” elements that want you to slow down, watch what you say, settle down, worry.
You are at risk of being the first generation to spend their youth double checking everything you say or do. And who’s idea was that? Yours? Your friends? Or some sad, petty, envious old creeps whose youth and time of reckless joy has passed them by.