One of the most truthful statements ever uttered was “they that won’t learn from history are condemned to repeat it.” One would think that many agree with it because it’s become a popular statement to repeat in recent years. I’m either hearing it or reading it fairly often as quoted statements go. But, as we all know, words and actions sometimes only align as frequently as the planets when it comes to a collective moral stance.
Individually we stare in jaw dropped amazement at people who carry out self-destructive acts when the terrible consequences are obvious, maybe even from the previous well publicized acts of a long line of losers who’ve relentlessly demonstrated their suicidal addictions. But as a group we seem to turn into a collective version of the Stepford Wives when the same simple observations apply. That is the case with political correctness.
There are only two basic stances in which to approach reality; with as much honesty as you’re capable of expressing or with some form of manipulation. At various times in our lives we all slide back and forth between the two, and it is to be hoped that over time we come to establish our inner roots in honesty’s irrigated field, occasional lapses notwithstanding.
There are certain general leanings that appeal to personalities that instinctively go only for things that flow downstream and require no real exertion from them. The grass is greener on the other side. External appearance is preferred over internal fortitude. Political solutions could remake the world for good if we’d only get with the program. Many more could be named. They are the minds aimed at by the sleaziest infomercials, the most transparent get-rich-quick schemes and those transfixed by sycophantic enablers like Jerry Springer and Maury Povich. It all runs in the same current with the child who believes that eating a whole bottle of Flintstones vitamins could make one Superman since mom said one per day makes you strong. But the child has an excuse.
Political correctness is the cancerous belief that eating a whole bottle of neutered intentions on a regular basis can make you a virtuous Superman.
History has so many lessons of people enacting political correctness under various guises and failing miserably that to not know it belies an entrenched voluntary ignorance for which traditionally there are no words to help; only lashes from life’s whip may help it into remission. There is also a steamy pile of hypocrisy in the heart of every person who embraces this perverse charade. They are always ready to make fun of, for example, what they see as the repressed sexuality of the Victorian era while their politically correct robotics cannot exist without them repressing honesty like a Klu Klux Klan Grand Dragon repressing the knowledge of his black son.
With so many historical examples to choose from one towers above all; the French Revolution, which is indeed a notable ancestor of political correctness. Today, one of the most cherished words of the politically correct is “tolerance”. It’s supposed to disable you from making judgments and, despite the peaceful air they intend for it to project, it is used mainly as a psychological night stick to put knots on the heads of those who dare to have an opinion running counter to the new polluted mainstream.
The fact that the cry for tolerance mostly turns out to be the prelude to a new intolerance is lost on all since they can’t see the many bodies they trample while wearing their 3D tolerance glasses. In the true spirit of political correctness those bodies are merely temporary resistances.
It was the same with the French Revolution. Never were so many heads cut off and so many people killed under such a friendly banner as their cry of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity! Unlike today’s politically correct dilettantes, they scraped the Christian calendar and started over as related by historian Crane Brinton.
"The new calendar, based on a report of Fabre d'Églantine, was adopted by the Convention in October, 1793. By it the year began on September 22 of the old calendar, and was divided into twelve months of thirty days each, leaving five days (six in leap years) over at the end of the last month. These five or six days were to be known as the Sans-culottides, and were to be a series of national holidays. Each month was divided into three weeks, called décades, the last day of each décade being set aside as a day of rest corresponding to the old Sunday."
Yes, they started over. But in their ignorance they didn’t realize they could never start over from scratch since man didn’t create the materials he has to work with. The simplest things, like a preference for a day of rest, were enough to unravel the depraved “correctness” of this ill advised politics. Brinton continues.
"In spite of its symmetry and its poetic months of budding and of mist, the new calendar was not a success, and Napoleon abandoned it in the year XII (1804). Workingmen preferred one day's rest in seven to one in ten; its terminology, appropriate to the climate of France, was singularly inappropriate to that of the Southern Hemisphere; it embodied a new cult, and that cult, though it profoundly influenced Christians then and since, failed completely to supplant Christian terminology. The calendar and its fate form in many ways a neat summary of Jacobin history."
Today’s political correctness is the spiritual thalidomide baby of the French Revolution. It is the cyclical, recurring attempt of people who never learn from history or anything else to pound square pegs into round holes and require that everyone publicly agree on the virtue of their actions regardless of contrary beliefs.
Like the sterile efforts of their revolutionary predecessors, the current neo-revolutionaries will likewise fail because they unknowingly pattern their actions on a cause that already failed when tried by others in the past who put a lot more zeal into it. But, as noted, those who won’t learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
If you understand that that is more than just a statement then be careful because the seed of political incorrectness is in you, and who knows what sprout of true freedom may germinate from it.