How Political Correctness Destroys Communications

I had a very interesting experience the other day at the AT&T store. I stopped in to get some help and a young black technician assisted me. He was very polite, extremely intelligent and from somewhere in Africa. 

For those who haven’t noticed, I have very long blonde hair, and I will admit I get a lot of compliments on it, especially since I’m 75-years-old.

So what happened?  I’m glad you asked.

This young man, through a natural instinctual impulse, asked me about my long hair. He wanted to know if it was real, natural and what it felt like.

He said; “It looks like silk, may I touch it?” 

I said yes, please do and so he did. He told me he had never touched a white person’s hair before. “It feels so different than mine. Thank you for permitting me to learn.” 

Did you get that last key word? “LEARN”

Was it politically correct for me to allow him to answer his questions, or should I have denied him access as it would have been politically incorrect?

Know what? I don’t care whether it was or not, he was curious, polite and honest in wanting to know and understand. He formed no opinion of my whiteness or my politics, he merely communicated his desire to learn.

Why can’t we all do that? Why can’t we communicate our desires to learn about others?


I made a new friend at school. A brilliant and motivated young man who has physical challenges that make getting to and around the campus difficult, but he does it without help. As a matter of fact, he declines offers of help if he knows he can do something by himself.
He’s great to talk to but a little difficult for me to hear as I am going deaf, but believe me when I say, this young man has boundless wisdom and kickass determination to accomplish his goals. But he is always alone in his struggle because other students and many faculty members are too politically correct challenged to step up and communicate that they don’t understand what drives him and what he needs to excel. 
I believe that political correctness has made these people very insecure. They want to know, they want to understand, but they don’t dare ask.
It is because of this that my friend often sits alone, at a table in the library. When he sees me coming, his face lights up and get excited because I come to see him, to talk to him, to communicate with him, to make him feel a part of the student body, to let him know he is important. 
As we sit and talk, I often see other students furtively looking; I can sense their questions and insecurity. They too have challenges, they too need real friends, and they too, need to learn how to communicate as my friend does. But how?
Is it politically correct to invite oneself into another’s conversation? Sure, as long as you’re polite.Is it politically correct to ask about a person’s obvious physical challenges?Sure, if it’s done politely.Is it politically correct to offer assistance when concerned?Sure, if you see a need and ask if you might be able to assist. Is it politically correct to say, “I want to be your friend, will you be mine?” Who cares if it’s politically correct or not, making a new friend is more important than being politically correct. Is it politically correct to ask what causes a person’s challenges?Sure, my friend doesn’t want pity, he wants understanding and communications.
I wonder what would happen if those who sit and stare got up, walked over to my friend and said: “Hi, I’m …., may I ask you a question?” Would that be communicating, or would it be politically incorrect?












Drag Queen v Tranny

Before I launch into this discussion, I want to be perfectly clear that when I refer to a male, I am referring to a biological male and when I refer to a female, it is a biological female. I only make this distinction for purposes of clarification.

Recently, I’ve seen articles about how liberal controlled schools are introducing elementary age children, grades 1 thru 5 to the world of the “gay and transsexual culture” by inviting Drag Queens into the classrooms for a form of show and tell(?).

Where do I begin to express my concerns over this blatant display of discrimination against the LGBT society and cultures as well as to straight people?

I’ll begin by saying that I feel employing the average Drag Queen to give presentations about gay life to young children is not only detrimental to the future mental health of children but is a direct insult to the larger LGBT community.

If our liberal schools are going to introduce specific non-mainstream cultures to our children and grandchildren, shouldn’t they also be offering presentations by Transsexuals, Transgenders, Leather, S&M, B&D and other groups equally active in the “sub-strata” of our society? From my perspective, I feel that the Drag Queen agenda is more about getting attention than about a sexual identity. Drag Queens are the Divas extraordinaire of the makeup cosmetics industry; entertainers in their own art form but they are not indicative of the average Transsexual. In fact, if I were a transsexual or a transgender I think I might be insulted and demeaned by the very thought of a Drag Queen lecturing anyone on Transsexualism. To quote a friend, “it is like trying to compare an Edsel to a Lamborghini; it’s just not happening!”

Is it an art form? Perhaps, but so too is body-building, transsexualism and just being straight or gay; that is if we act ourselves as we understand and accept ourselves don’t we really become ourselves? Isn’t that the ultimate goal of a Transsexual?

I feel that if schools want to introduce students to the gay culture, they should invite not only Drag Queens but Transsexuals, and mainstream gays such as doctors, lawyers, teachers, police officers along with members of every other profession in our society. I’d be willing to bet there would never be a shortage of gay people willing to step forward to talk about themselves as people, not sex objects or actors, but people.

Furthermore, if they are going to have an honest open forum, the guests should be seen in their normal daily attire, not in theatrical costumes. The only rule would be that each guest must appear as themselves, not as the character they play. I believe the difference between each of the three guests will be very evident to the children without explanation.

Now, back to the original question: Drag Queen v Tranny.

My opinion: the difference is America’s Got Talent v Lives of American Transsexuals; one person’s theatrical skills v one person’s survival skills.

Which do you want your child to learn?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Repost! Columbine Essay

06-21-15

Second Repost:  This was done for my first Psychology Class

PLEASE NOTE: At the present time this program will not let me insert the actual autopsy reports mentioned in my essay. If you feel them important, please contact me and I will provide the link to them.

Nov. 17, 2014

“Columbine”

An Amateur Psychological Autopsy of Co-dependent murderers.

At 11:19 a.m. (UTC-6), April 20, 1999 Eric Harris and his friend Dylan Klebold brought hell to the small, suburban town of Littleton, Colorado when they walked through the doors of Columbine High School. By 12:08 p.m. they, along with twelve students and one teacher were dead and twenty-four others were injured (twenty-one by gunshot).

When assigned to read “Columbine”, David Cullen, 2009, Twelve, Hatchette Book Group for our final essay, we were directed to choose either Dylan Klebold or Eric Harris to complete what I refer to as an Amateur Psychological Autopsy of our choice. When I read this in our instructions the very first thing that occurred to me was, sorry professor no can do.

Between 1966 and 2014 there have been eleven major mass murders committed in the United States, each involving guns and having ten or more innocent deaths. The significant variable in those cases is only one event involved more than one proactive killer and that was Columbine, where two, perhaps even three disturbed young men went on a rampage.

I believe Columbine had three killers – Dylan, Eric and Kle-arris, the psychological malevolency created by their co-dependent relationship.

In comments from Susan Klebold’s (Dylan’s mother) essay published in the November 2009 issue of “O”, The Oprah Magazine, she references a theft committed by Dylan and Eric:

“Their theft had shown that under each other’s influence they could be impulsive and unscrupulous. Could they also—no matter how unbelievable it seemed—be violent?”

            This one statement raised a lot of questions for me.

Then Mrs. Klebold went on to say:

“No matter what he (Dylan) did, he was driven to win—and was very hard on himself when he lost.”

“His adolescence was less joyful than his childhood. As he grew, he became extremely shy and uncomfortable when he was the center of attention, and would hide or act silly if we tried to take his picture. By junior high, it was evident that he no longer liked school; worse, his passion for learning was gone.”

“He was quiet. He grew irritated when we critiqued his driving, asked him to help around the house, or suggested that he get a haircut. In the last few months of senior year, he was pensive, as if he were thinking about the challenges of growing older. One day in April I said, “”You seem so quiet lately—are you okay?” He said he was “just tired.” Another time I asked if he wanted to talk about going away to college. I told him that if he didn’t feel ready, he could stay home and go to a community college. He said, “”I definitely want to go away.”” If that was a reference to anything more than leaving home for college, it never occurred to me.”

What Ms. Klebold did not appear to realize, or perhaps failed to recognize was that over time, most probably beginning in early puberty, Dylan was displaying classic symptoms of an early onset dysthemic disorder in the form of chronic depression with suicidal tendencies. (Here too, a question arises, were Dylan’s symptoms exacerbated when he and Eric Harris became friends?)

“”At Columbine High School, Dylan Klebold envied the social successes of the school’s athletes. In his journal, he wrote, “I see jocks having fun, friends, and women.” In another entry he wrote, “I hated the happiness that they [jocks] have.” In contrast, he wrote about himself as being so different from everyone else that he seemed to believe he was not truly human or capable of functioning like a human being.”  Murderous Envy, What is the role of envy in school shootings?” Published on May 27, 2009 by Peter Langman, Ph.D. in Keeping Kids Safe.

Eric Harris, on the other hand was the direct opposite of Dylan. An extrovert on the surface, Eric was charismatic, clever, exceptionally intelligent, and very adept at hiding his true self. He appears to have learned at a young age how to manipulative people to attain his goals. He had talents and skills that might have made him a success in life but his was a tragic path – why?

Unlike Dylan’s parents, Wayne and Kathy Harris, the parents of Eric have not been as forthcoming in their comments about their son. Mr. Harris was a career Air Force pilot who retired when Eric was twelve and the family moved to Littleton, CO. Up until this time, Eric was thought to be a normal kid, doing normal kid stuff like playing soccer and wearing in-style preppy clothes, but that began to change when he met Dylan.

Was it love or evil at first sight?

Excerpt from Dave Cullen’s Blog, FEBRUARY 25, 2010 7:06PM

“Meeting the Mauser’s:  Why did Harris’s take Eric to psychologist?

Were there no psychologists at the “juvenile diversion program”? “Wayne was mystified by his son.[1] Wayne and Kathy accepted that Eric was a psychopath. Where that came from, they didn’t know. But he fooled them, utterly.”

““He’d also fooled a slew of professionals. Wayne and Kathy clearly felt misled by the psychologist they sent him to. The doctor had brushed off Eric’s trademark duster as “only a coat.” He saw Eric’s problems as rather routine. At least that’s the impression he gave Wayne and Kathy.”  They shared that perception with the Mausers. “Other than the van break-in, Eric had never been in serious trouble”, they said. He and Dylan were arrested in January 1998 and charged with three felonies. They eventually entered a juvenile diversion program, which involved close monitoring and various forms of restitution.””

“”Eric rarely seemed angry”, his parents said. “There was one odd incident where he slammed his fist into a brick wall and scraped his knuckles. That was startling, but kids do weird things. It seemed like an aberration, not a pattern to be worried about.””

“Wayne and Kathy knew Eric had a Web site, but that didn’t seem odd. They never went online to look at it. “I found them kind of incurious,” Linda said.””

One might come to wonder if they were wearing blinders or were simply oblivious to what Eric was really like and really doing.

It is said that opposites attract; that may be true on the surface however I believe that commonalities are the adhesives that bond people. In the case of Eric and Dylan the commonality was Kle-arris, the malevolent, unseen cancer created by their disturbed minds. I believe there may have been clues.

Dylan Kle-Arris Eric
Depressive Disorder, DSM-V -296.34 Severe With Psychotic Features Extremely volatile combination. Antisocial Personality Disorder, DSM-V Antisocial/Psychopathic
Avoidant Confrontational
Introvert Apathetic Extrovert
Quiet Vocal
Rage Dangerous Volatile
Pensive Apathetic Unreflective
Uncomfortable with attention Apathetic Wanted the attention
Lost interest in school Strong student
Anger issues – No DSM Major Anger Issues Anger issues – No DSM
Inferior Confusion Superior
Paranoid Apathetic Ruthless
Anxiety prone Cold blooded
Major depression issues Suicidal Depression
Feelings of rejection Amplified emotions Feelings of rejection
Feelings of entitlement
Autopsy Toxicology screen negative for drugs. Fluvoxamine has been known to induce violent behavior in some patients Autopsy Toxicology screen positive for fluvoxamine (Rx) Luvox[2]
Submissive/Beta Threatening Dominant/Sadistic
Self-effacing Self-centered Narcissistic
MIDC Scale 7: Reticent Pattern MIDC Scale 1A: Dominant Pattern
MIDC Scale 5B: Contentious Pattern MIDC Scale 2: Ambitious Pattern
MIDC Scale 1B: The Dauntless Pattern
MIDC Scale 9: The Distrusting Pattern MIDC Scale 9: The Distrusting Pattern MIDC Scale 9: The Distrusting Pattern
Dependent upon Eric  Co-Dependent Killer Dependent upon Dylan

I believe that both Klebold and Harris suffered from congenital neurobiological disorders which, had they never met may have taken them on much different paths in life. Admittedly, Eric’s path may not have been radically different than Columbine but that is something we will never know because they did meet either in the seventh or eighth grade and, hypothetically the seed of Kle-arris was planted.

During the years prior to the Columbine attack is can easily be argued that Eric was the dominant leader however Dylan, via his more reticent nature was also a force to be reckoned with. Dylan had unpredictable fits of rage that may have fed Eric’s dominant/sadistic nature adding to his own rage at the inferior world. I believe this may be seen in the types of wounds inflicted on their victims with the high percentage of head and neck wounds as though they’re saying you are not beautiful like us.

Much has been said about the victims and how they died but little has really been said about the deaths of Dylan, Eric and Kle-arris. They died, kneeling together on the floor of the Columbine High School library of self-inflicted gunshot wounds the nature of which suggests to me, one final act of defiance.

“Final Anatomic Diagnosis” of post mortem examinations.

On reading Dr. Galloway’s report, it struck me that Eric knew long before he committed suicide how he had to do it to prove to the world that he was “The Man!” He was in control right up to the end when he placed the muzzle of the shotgun into his mouth, positioned it to do the most damage and pulled the trigger. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47Wf_RfRJTI ) Warning, graphic.

NOTE: These are footnotes:

I do not believe Eric wanted anyone to get into his mind while he was alive or dead. Dylan, on the other hand used a large caliber handgun which he placed against his left temple and fired. It is quite possible he chose this manner to preserve his face so that in death at least he might be handsome.

Dr. Galloway’s report on Dylan mentions aspiration of blood. This is only possible if the respiratory system is functioning, ergo Dylan did not die immediately as Eric did. Did he know what he’d done, did he feel any remorse, and did he finally find peace from his torment? I sincerely hope they both did.

[1] I can’t help but wonder if Mr. Harris was afraid of his son as well as mystified.

Closing:

I chose to write my essay on Eric Harris, the psychopathic murderer who led his best friend, Dylan Klebold into a web of deceit, terror and mass murder. In writing this essay I discovered Eric Harris, a troubled young man with an intense anti-social personality disorder that appears to have doomed him almost from birth. Despite what anyone, even Eric might think he was not in control of his actions because he saw no need to be. He was not in control of his feelings because he didn’t have any. He was not in control of his future because he saw none.

Had Eric not met Dylan when he did, would things have turned out differently? Maybe, but then our world is filled with chronically depressed Dylans, Eric may have found another or simply acted alone. In any event, I feel that Eric was born without a conscience and he died without one.

Were Dylan and Eric also victims? There is only one logical answer – Yes.

As sure as some children are born with congenital malformations of their organs, Dylan and Eric were born with congenital malformations of their minds.

Mother’s Day

I was asked to repost this and another paper I wrote during my first year in college.

Sunday, three A.M. a full moon illuminates a forest alive with night creatures. Their eyes aglow as if in wonderment as our emergency beacons pierced their world. Only the sounds of our engine broke the silence as we raced through the night. No need for the siren. We were ten miles from the nearest major road, fifteen from any community and hadn’t seen another vehicle since leaving the hospital garage.

My partner, a trainee, scanned the road ahead for a sign of our contact while I wondered what we were rushing into.  Our only information was a call received by the dispatcher requesting an ambulance to an isolated rural area. The caller did not reveal the nature of the emergency and his location directions were vague. He said someone would meet us on the main highway. That made me nervous! I decided to radio the dispatcher for police assist. Unfortunately for us, that meant a town constable at home in bed twenty miles away. On the plus side, the dispatcher at the time was my wife.  As she still liked me back then, she decided to request assistance from the Sheriff’s office and two other police departments from adjacent jurisdictions.

Suddenly, headlights flashed in front of us. A large, dark car pulled out from the shoulder of the road, its driver waving frantically as he turned onto a narrow, gravel township road forming a dust cloud between us.

Maintaining a safe distance back, we followed the dust cloud at a slower speed allowing my partner time to note any landmarks he could radio to the dispatcher.

Abruptly, the dust dissipated revealing the dark car with its mysterious driver stopped next to an open grassy area.  A dirt drive wound its way up to what appeared to be an old basement dwelling set good eighty yards from the main road.  We stopped a few feet behind him.  As I exited our rig in an attempt to approach and question the driver he silently pointed toward the dwelling then sped off down the gravel road.

My attention turned to the house. It was built on a low knoll, had large front windows and, thankfully, was well lit both inside and out.

“Something is missing!” I whispered. “No vehicles, people, dogs or movement.”

Slowly we inched our way up the drive. When almost parallel to the dwelling, it made a sharp right to an exterior wood frame, enclosed stairway atop the knoll. There, in the glare of our floodlights lay the body of a woman. Dressed in a blood-stained, pale green nightgown, her head turned away from us; she appeared to be sleeping,  but it was an illusion. An obvious gunshot entry wound to the back of her head told a different story.

Immediately, my instincts and training took control.

“Shut off all our lights, give me the radio and get your ass out of this rig now!” I yelled to my partner. “Hide in the woods beyond the tree line!” Next thing I knew he was running fast and low towards a large pine tree.

I radioed the dispatcher, “We have a D.O.A with G.S.W.!  We need help fast!”  *

Now, what do I do?  Sitting in a darkened ambulance, on a small rise next to an illuminated earth home, I was a sitting duck. If the shooter was still there, one well-aimed bullet could have hit me or the large oxygen tank and I am history.

What if there are more victims inside? What if they are still alive? Call it brave or insane; I had to know. It was my job to save lives.

Flashlight in hand, I made my way through the shadows to the stairwell. Standing to one side, I held it high above my head to disguise my position and exact size as I peered through the door. Looking down inside, I saw a single, bare bulb ceiling light, a child’s bicycle in a corner and a second body at the foot of the stairs. As the woman’s, it was face down in a pool of dark, clotted blood. It was a man with a gunshot exit wound in the back of his head.

The bicycle – is there a child here?

Against all policy, I descended the stairs, stepped over the man’s body and entered the living room to a scene of rage and anger. Furniture overturned, appliances were broken, dishes shattered and personal items everywhere but no child.

Cautiously I searched the remaining rooms. I saw a lifestyle of modest income and means but no child or other bodies. I was relieved.

Retracing my path, I exited the house to call in what I’d seen. As I reached the radio to give the dispatcher update, the dark car returned. As if in slow motion, it appeared on the gravel road and turned onto the grassy area in front of the dwelling.

Cutting my report short, I waited and watched. The car stopped, and the headlights went dark. The only light was from the house and beautiful, setting full moon.

I could hear the radio in the ambulance as the dispatcher is telling me the closest police unit it still fifteen minutes from our location.

Estimating the distance from my position to the car at forty yards, I realized I did not have many options.

I saw one person, the driver sitting behind the wheel staring at the house seemingly ignoring me.

Was this a neighbor, friend, relative, curiosity seeker or…?

I had to know! I could not be out here in the middle of the wilderness trapped by my fears.

Heart in throat, I walked to the car while keeping my flashlight trained directly on his face.  I got within ten feet when he suddenly turned on the interior dome light and looked at me. He was young, late teens, early twenties, long black hair, average size and scruffy appearing. He had a strange, peaceful look on his face, a calm as though his burdens were gone.

As I attempted to talk to him, I visually searched the interior of the car with my flashlight. He had no less than eight guns and what appeared to be hundreds of rounds of ammunition scattered over the seats.

He asked me, “Are they dead?”

I believe so.” I replied.

“Good!” he yelled as he slammed his foot onto the gas pedal and sped through the grass to disappear down the gravel road.

There was a return to silence as a soft glow in the east announce\d the rising of the sun.

It was going to be a beautiful Mother’s Day – for most.

G.S.W. = Gunshot Wound

D.O.A. = Dead on arrival

President Trump is a Nationalist? omg!

So what is a “Nationalist?” 

Damn glad you asked.

Definition: “person who strongly identifies with their own nation and vigorously supports its interests, especially to the exclusion or detriment of the interests of other nations.” (Wikipedia)

OK, so do we have a Nationalist Party in America, and if so, who and what is it? 

As far as I know, we do not have an official Nationalist Party in America. we have groups that may claim to be, such as the “White Nationalists”, “Black Nationalists” and I think even some First People might refer to themselves as Nationalists; Lakota, Cheyenne, Cherokee, Ojibwa, Menominee, Navajo, and, whoa, wait, aren’t those “Indian tribes?” Nope, those are First People’s Nations aka Native Americans (Indians come from India) who are members of their own nations most of which have sovereign reservations where the Nation is headquarters. 

So how does this fit in with what President Trump said about being a Nationalist?  Umm, not a lot, but it’s a great bit of information to help understand the principle of Nationalism.

Ok, I get it now, but what is Nationalism? 

“Nationalism is a political, social, and economic system characterized by the promotion of the interests of a particular nation, especially with the aim of gaining and maintaining sovereignty over the homeland. The political ideology of nationalism holds that a nation should govern itself, free from outside interference and is linked to the concept of self-determination. Nationalism is further oriented towards developing and maintaining a national identity based on shared, social characteristics, such as culture and language, religion and politics, and a belief in a common ancestry. Nationalism, therefore, seeks to preserve a nation’s culture, by way of pride in national achievements, and is closely linked to patriotism, which, in some cases, includes the belief that the nation should control the country’s government and the means of production.” (Wikipedia,*)

Yep, despite claims by the anti-Trumps, this perfectly describes President Trump and his agenda for America. 

Here’s your assignment for the day: Can you pick out three concepts in the definition of Nationalism that directly relates to what the anti-Trumper’s are fighting him on? When you do, as yourselves this: who’s right for the America you want? 

Today is Tomorrow, not Yesterday

As I watch the news lately I am amazed at what I see happening in my short lifetime. American, or perhaps I should say the world is facing a crisis brought on by the blatant manipulations of greedy people.

I see countries at war with one another over the most mundane of problems, but they’re not real wars, those are limited to a specific arena known to all as the Middle East.

The major war is for our minds, freedom, and identities. We are being attacked by the “Borg”, whose goal is to assimilate everyone. We are told we must be part of the “collective” for the good of the world, but I’ve yet seen, or for that matter, even read about a “collective” that was not controlled by the few.

We are seeing a massive pyramid scheme in play!

Think carefully, are the marchers from South-Central America people, or are they the bricks and mortar of the base for a new structure? Are they sacrificing their homes and lives for an unpromised better future, or have been financially manipulated to establish the foundation for a “better world” they may have no say in?

There are three major countries on our planet that are being attacked as I write this. Three major powers must succumb to the will of a few for the pyramid to be completed. Those countries are Russia, China, and America replete with corrupt officials who would sell their own relatives out to gain power; a power that will be very shortlived regardless of the overall outcome.

At this very moment, America, the most powerful country on Earth is being challenged at its very doorstep.

Why? Why is America being challenged first?

There are three basic reasons summed up in one word: Politicians.

  1. Our immigration and border control laws are weak.
  2. Our politicians enact the laws.
  3. We, the American taxpayers elect the politicians.

Do you see another pyramid?

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday

Question is it pronounced Wed nes day or Wendsday? 

Answer, does it really matter now? 

I guess it does matter to word perfectionists and “English” professors, but to the average American, I doubt it because it’s a dialectic and idiolectic thingy.

Dialect and Idiolect – two pretty cool words, but what do they have to do with how to pronounce Wednesday. 

Glad you asked!

I often see posts on Facebook telling people to vote to make English the official language of the USA and I wonder. I wonder why we would want to make a foreign language our official one? 

We, in the United States of America and it’s territories speak American English, not the Queen’s English of England. We gave that up long ago.

Last year, while helping a student with his dissertation on the topic of English as a Second Language (ESL), I did a little research of my own. I discover that there are over 1500 known dialects of English in the world ranging from the “Queen’s English” in the halls of Buckingham Palace to the Zulu English spoken in the Natal of Africa. In continental America alone, there are 350+ dialects from the Yankee northeast states to the Hispanic influenced Southwest and from the Scandinavian influenced North Central to the Creole in the south, America is an amalgam of languages and cultures.

Want to add some fun to that?

How many Idiolects do you think there are in continental America? 

Well, as of 2017, there are an estimated 325.72+ million people in America. That figure includes all 50 states and the American territories. 

Are you ready for this? Fact: America has 325.72+ oral idiolects.  Each and every one of us speaks in a distinctive manner; the way we pronounce or slur our words, our choice of words and even swearing. 

Never before have our dialect and idiolects been more important than today in our electronic age where voice recognition is becoming vital to our security. 

My conclusion is, let’s make American English our official language!