Satire: The Moral to the Story of Political Correctness In Describing Weekly Poker Games at the Community Center, by Jonathan Henderson (Date 11/30/2014)

The Moral to the Story of Political Correctness In Describing Weekly Poker Games at the Community Center

By Jonathan Henderson (Date 11/30/2014)

Post by Jonathan Henderson.

Above are the Seven Commandments from Orwell's Animal Farm. Note what is crucial to predicting the end of the novella is the differentiation of the first two commandments and then measuring them by the standard of the seventh and last commandment. If two legs were to be the animals' enemies, but fours legs or to have wings meant friendship, how then could they be equal unless of course they were also separate, the double standard that all Fabians and Marxists thrive upon is invoked as justice through injustice?

Tact can be preferable, but only when appropriate and never to excess. The standard is duplicitous under socialism's rules for political engagement. If you are not so open-minded that you fail to agree with everything its celebrity and technological demagogues demand that you lead your life culturally as libertines, unrepentantly amoral and as dependents upon the community at no cost for your own contributions, you are a pariah. If you guide by conviction rather than the consensus, you are the worst kind of person in our society and therefore face ostracism should you dare to dream of things others never will since they took that hard left turn to Albuquerque a long time ago. You will always get called a racist and even a sociopath, not to mention a fascist simply due to your individualism. And while the argument is never about left or right, it always will end with the right making might.

Sadly, as you are far too educated to fall for collectivized indoctrination, you notice that socialists are really very self-conscious and paranoid to others with whom they differ. They believe in the uniformity of a gray world of nil and a dearth of cerebral colorful absorption, where the 4 x 4 is smooth and not one nail sticks out. But you, as you think for yourself, you are that nail, and because of that, you have to be hammered down as you have a much different, fresher view of the world they do not approve. When you play cards, you always approach it with your hand close to the vest and forever insist upon cutting the deck before you apply your shades. They try to tell you no one will ever know what they deal you as no one in the room filled with cigar smoke and booze can see or tell what is going on, but you know this is a lie because they count the cards frequently and with absolute impunity. Once you get your way one time, they decide to ban all smoking on Poker Night because it is a health hazard and you cough funny as your lungs fill with the sludge, knowing well this has gone on for a long time, but you were really the reason they reversed this trend as you were a threat to their corner on the winnings. They try to then prohibit the flow of booze, but then one or two of the guys still plays drunk as they sip from some flask inside a paper bag. You never drank or smoked because you chose not to, and while there was not a good reason for them to ban those items at all, they hypocritically violate their own rules, only to argue for the sake of agreeing...

... and that's when you as an intelligent, well-educated conservative can determine what few even in the psychiatry field dare to admit. It will never be you who is mentally-disturbed, nor others with like minds who are equal only in the different approaches in choosing how best to contribute to society. It was the community center demagoguery all along, and you were accused of shooting the sheriff and the deputy for choosing to trust but verify as that reggae recording keeps blaring the steel drums' sweet song. They tried to ban guns, but someone brought another into the game room too just as with the booze, and all hell broke loose as no one could simply raise their hands up and beg for the person not to shoot. They then tell each who shot everyone else at sporadic times they didn't do it, that someone - the gun retailer or the gun maker - made them to and even did it in absentia, but then the guys with the guns turn out to be always one of them, and it happens time and time again, always your fault because they are precluded from all blame for their missteps that you refuse to save them from their own community governing idiocracy.

The moral to the story is some animals are more equal than others. But as this is true, they try to sling and smother those who choose not to play in their little mud hole with their slop, and that brown coloration stinks far worse than it being just a run-of-the-mill rain-induced mud that their pen - and they themselves - appear to be so full with. If you fail to get as dirty as they want, you are a racist since all animals walk on four legs, and the number four is always better than two. Unfortunately, those you thought were on your side, led by the men you know as Mr. Jones and Mr. Atlas who provide ostensibly different approaches to achieving the same ends to the established elitists, play cards with the bossy ones who dislike you on the side between Poker Nights, and you are never invited. As Mr. Jones sneaks in through the backdoor to wheel and deal, Mr. Atlas simply shrugs while they each determine how many bargaining chips will be at stake this round, not if there will be a gamble, and how much you will be forced charged as they are your landlords away from this community center that you pay as do each of them, and over which the money you are taxed will be explained is "needed for expansion, improvements and more amenities to provide services for the townspeople considered by us as less to those who have more". You get nothing in return, but they seem to be wearing expensive, trendy new wardrobes. You still are wearing your drab-colored attire, darned socks and threadbare slacks and shoes. The shirt is old and ragged. It still belongs to you. For now. You give those in need the shirt off your back. The demagoguery simply confiscates that shirt from you, but no one ever seems to wear it aside one among themselves.

That's when you know you've been had, and why political correctness ties your hands to stop it easily. You see, while your game partners who oppose your individualism will always stand on all fours, around Mr. Jones and Mr. Atlas, they will do so in stealth on just their hind two legs since now two is better than four and always will be more equal than your manner for standing on first two legs and then three as you age, or perhaps none after you pass on. And once you reach the need for a third leg on which to lean as you stand, they pull the plug because they will not approve of its expenses at your age. 

No recourse, no way to escape. That is the socialist trap set for conservatives and why to oppose the establishment by calling what you see means you are a racist since seeing is not to be believed for those who are not "open-minded" to every declaration of their truth.