The Journal


Serving the Metropolitan Area


Since 1872


September 17th




By Jack Parnell - retired Congressman and Independent Presidential candidate


Syndicated by Acme Features


          With the Communism replaced by Mad Vlad Putin’s European adventures (with a little help from a hyperzealous Russian Orthdox patriarchy... as we took a closer look at in this Don Jones Index... and the blessings of Ol’ 45) a fanatic Islam veering disturbingly congruent to fundamentalist Christianity, the flag-burners and fag-burners’ exploits deminimalized into that black hole of State legislatures (trannies desperate to take their dumps in appropriate crappers having slapped down the basketball fans of North Carolina and liquidated the Dallas Superbowl)... with evil Mexicans thwarted by the impending erection of our tall, American wall and bus tickets to Martha’s Vinyard from Saint Ronald… once Father returns to power any day now!... with the Chinese spreading disease, watching and waiting for the white devils to destroy one another and no coherent liberal anathemas being proclaimed by Mister Biden, Squeamish of the right persuasion desperately need a new scarecrow. Meanwhile, they make do vilifying the ever-morphing manifestations of political correctness (hereinafter, PC)... that vanguard of the few, the proud, the sensitive!

          PC's come into maturity in mosquito-pond hot tubs of failed liberalism... (as if there’s been any other kind since eleven twenty-two sixty-three)… political PeeCeisters revering martyrs like Trotsky and Che and George McGovern, but abhorring winners such as Stalin, Obama and Castro. Following the Whorfian Hypothesis... not a plot device on a Star Trek rerun, but linguist Benjamin Whorf's notion "that language determines thought"... PC's victim untermensch (or, more germanely, their white, upper-middle-class "advocates", spokesmen and attorneys) stagger, like movie zombies, after that Holy Trinity of all post-industrial society... offense taken, apologies proffered and spare change doled out to the self-designated “voices for the voiceless”.

          Their silly season usually (barring a plague wave of intensifying intent) commences with autumn's return to school after the bipartisan  hollow-to-nonexistent tributes to Labor (see this pre-electoral Don Jones Index), replaced by the ritual protests against historically militaristic statues and textbooks – issuing demands that racist, patriarchal, speciest, athletic nicknames like Braves, Pirates… where, at Armstrong State in Savannah, the PC left cried "Rape!", joining right-wing defenders of private property offended by the "pillage and plunder" morality of the likes of "Frenchie" Depp (if not necessarily role models like the Messrs. Douglas and DeCaprio in their movies)… Giants (size-ists) or Wolverines (carnivores) be replaced by the Oregon State "Banana Slugs" or Notre Dame "Caring Nurturers".

          Columbus Day always brings good footage of PeeCeister-keisters being kicked by elderly Italians at whom they've thrown eggs (or, in the case of vegans, eggplants, broccoli and the Donald’s dreaded tomatoes) from behind police barricades. Then comes the witching season of Halloween... the Warlocks' Anti-Defamation League vying for media attention with Christian fundamentalists in PC school districts, like that in Iowa as banned white children from costuming themselves as “Indian princesses, slaves or Gypsies”, thus satisfyin' and gratifyin' both the Aryan Nation constituency and all twelve of Iowa's numerous restless minorities.

          Or, just last year, organized protests against the cable company running that million-something dollar movie “It” with the evil clown and his red balloons hiding in the sewers – brought to you by the benevolent and protective society of circus clowns (tacking virtuous after half their livelihoods were wiped out by the plague, and the other half by PETAphiles shutting down their circuses as elephant exploitatve).

          Then, Thanksgiving brings forth the perhaps-justifiably enraged Native Americans, but, also, that fringe of the fringe of the margin... former liberals who, disillusioned over minorities, women, abused children and other human victims discharging them as their spokesmen, have fastened on to the only voiceless constituencies left - plants and animals which, being voiceless, can’t tell them to fruck-off! Not just the turkey people, but this cellist in Eureka, California as disrupts the winter "Peter and the Wolf" children's concerts (anti-wolf! and counter-picketed by the anti-predator league) and those as railed at Wheaties to have angler Denny Brauer inked off its boxes as a murderer of fish or the genetic antimanipulators who boycott cornflakes as exploiting "Nazi-directed pollination", supplanting the stubby, stunted maizes that serviced vastly smaller indigenous populations four centuries ago.

          Once PETAphiles have had their fifteen minutes, our media raptors miraculously discover the poor and homeless, leading to a positively Hillarious spree of Bidenistic self-flagellation, culminating in a final string of chaotic assaults on Christmas... downgraded, by sensitive (and lawsuit-fearing) school boards, like that of Covington, GA, to "the winter holidays"... as either too religious or too commercial. Then, as winter’s freeze and summer’s heat scatter the various communities of occupation, spokespersonism and guilt until next autumn rolls round, compassion's legions sink back into their swampy undergrounds in Greenwich Village, Hollywood and university communities like Cambridge, Massachusetts (where pusillanimous City patriarchs posted "domestic violence-free zone" street signs at intersections facing Harvard and MIT, where much of our nuclear and biotech-based weaponry research is done).  Of course there are smaller scale eruptions like St. Paddy’s day (some insensitive-sensitive Hibernian apologists once protested the drunken and violent Irish stereotypes until outvictimized by blacks and Chinese… see our last year’s St. Paddy’s day Don Jones Index) and rebranded as Nazi sympathizers from whom reparations were due, rather than to whom they were owing.

          Multiculturalism... which term for reverse racism was officially defined by Ousmane Soce Diop, Senegalese Ambassador to the United Nations in 1966... consists of demanding economic assistance (handouts) while maintaining cultural separatism. "We're here to get paid," declaims Nation of Islam minister Sammi Muhammad. "Money, that's what we want!" – a sentiment seconded by Jesse Jackson in September, 2007 when, after the pale and foolish London Mayor Ken Livingstone apologized for slavery, he demanded reparations in pounds-sterling (no doubt to be determined, collected, allocated and disbursed by…. Himself).

          Wealthy or, at least, well-off palefaced legions of the "compassionate community" must be more... well... creative in justifying their own grants, tenures and gumment sinecures. Multiculturalist Stacey D'Erasmo found her goldmine comparing the literary canon of dead white males and a few discooperative females... Blake and Woolf, the Brontes, Georg and T. S. Eliot and Ezra Pound... to pounds of Spam: "resilient and, for planners of curricula, cheap." Why, she asks, didn't the Columbia Literary History of the United States, include "Indian cave narratives"? After all, Oxford (England, not Mississippi) published an anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-dextrous Bible... no talk of the "right hand of God" as would offend the Sinister Liberation Front. Consequently... following the 60's principle of issuing non-negotiable demands which, when satisfied, are followed up by even more ridiculous non-negotiable demands... Stay's even done us the favor of rewriting the Lord's Prayer: "Father-Mother (heaven deleted), hallowed be your name, may your dominion come."

          Even so, some dedicated minions of the League for Separation of Church and State is petitioning the state attorney’s general to hunt these praying mantii down and lock them up.  Blame Ronald Reagan Junior... or, maybe, Ozzy Osbourne.  

          Somewhere (not Heaven, of course, but in a nameless, value-neutral Place), God... looking rather like Ronan Farrow or Justin Bieber, no doubt, sits... simpering, stroking his dominion and welcoming such PC angels as the postal bureaucrats who airbrush cigarettes from Jack the Dripper's stamp, or that new James Bond from the Amazon big (anti-circus) tent with anti-drug and anti-smoking bumperstickers on his all-electric KIA Kaos.  Inevitably... from Wittgenstein's arguments favoring process over product... Ghiselin, the relativist, proceeds to: "Instead of asking ‘What is Good?’, we ask ‘What has happened?’"

          Excrement has happened, that’s what.  But it’s OK… it’s PC excrement from vegan transgenders in their government-approved restrooms (but not in Texas or North Carolina; Oklahoma, maybe).  Very loose and fertile stuff, that!

          For getting on three decades, now, what's happened is militant conservatism and corrupt liberalism acting in tandem to narrow the spectrum of American political discourse to the proverbial needle's eyes of Michael Moore and Sean Hannity to distract the public from the massive institutional corruption inherent everywhere.  "Forbid real progress and you get weirdness," admonished columnist Tom Teepen... "where there should be exuberance in our diversity, there is instead the death of all banter and social ease." Eric Rudolph, Osama and ELF... not Will Farrell, or gumment subsonic death-ray pulses manufactured by exploited reptilian aliens but that Earth Liberation Front as my bro' Austin Tillerman keeps havin' to deny copulation with... are only the visible, violent tip of that strange iceberg as contains, below the waterline, an even stranger bevy of bedfellows (or, in PC-speak, bedpersons... bedbugs?).

          Concomitant with the PC’s is a willingness to assign collective guilt, when the outcome suits them… as witness Israel’s desperate questing for nonagenarian German soldiers as were pardoned by the milliards in 1946, given new uniforms and bayonets and pointed East towards the U.S.S.R.  These, now, need be plucked out of their dotage and tried so as to maintain the Israeli victim status in a time of embarrassing questions being asked about settlements in Gaza and the West Bank.  Or, on the other hand, that same Peanut Gallery (as espouses Islamic superiority except for the few rotten apples as practice rapes and beheadings) cheering on the attack on Oklahoma fraternities en toto after a few chowderheads too busy to murder their pledges with alcoholic overdoses sang songs about the nwords and were justifiably sanctioned.  (Perhaps the frat rank and file were culpable, after all, of at least a dim apprehension of public relations; the attorney that they hired was the same guy as defended… tho’ not very well… the Oklahoma militia bomber Timothy McVeigh in front of then-obscure Judge Merrick Garland, he of the disrespected SCOTUS and subsequent resurrectory AyGee appointments.)  So, PC or not, fair or not, you’re likely to be judged by the company you keep… consider  Sharon Osborne re Piers Morgan or that Atlanta police officer caught between the Chinese anti-racism and female anti-violence lobbies for reporting on the still-confusing motive of Robert Aaron Long, the devout Baptist massage parlor loser who killed Asian women either because they were Asian or they were women.

          Uh… he killed them because they wouldn’t have sex with him and because were alive, where he preferred that they weren’t!

          No wonder America's distrust of politics deepens every election and thereafter… current polls put Congressional approval ratings somewhere around twelve, lower than those of Trump or his basement-dwelling Democratic replacement (with a little help from the inflation pumped up by Putin’s War)... not only are most "choices" among flavors of relativistic mush, but existent radical "alternatives" are promulgated by egomaniacal zealots, be they red, blue (the Old Red), red-white-and-blue or watermelon (green on the outside, red within). Many plague denialists as still crave dialogue and discourse with other humans have turned to the anonymity of phone sex lines and anonymous Internet flames. Maybe true multiculturalism's a tubercular mother of six in West Jonestown, Guyana pretending to be Malibu Barbie, or a coughing  fourteen year old with exploding zits passing himself off as the junk bond e-broker, with a deal you can't refuse - just give him your credit card numbers.

          "There must be a whole potential 'yuppie porn' industry out there, anticipated columnist Alice Kahn, "a place where live nude investment counselors can talk of market dominance, rising interest rates, stocks and bondage."

          Call it politically incorrect but, if I'm on an airline to or from Billings or Bangkok in July and a twitchy, Middle-Eastern sort in an ankle-length overcoat bulging in funny places takes the aisle seat next to me, boots up his laptop, coughs wetly and summons up one of those kiddie-porn sites with funny, Middle-Eastern writing, I'm gonna eyeball that mutha-suckah... all the way cross the pond, NPR be damned.

          'Less'n the flight movie's "Terminator 5 - Final Judgment" (with that hairgel guy as stands in for the Guv'nator) or something like that as will promote the sleep!