Stace McCains says “social justice is for homos.” But before anybody puffs himself up over all that Hate Speech, please bear this in mind:
If someone had tried to get us to care about politics when I was a teenager, we’d have called them a “homo,” which was a sort of generalized insult that wasn’t homophobic because the word “homophobia” hadn’t been invented yet. Circa 1974, “homo” (like “queer” and “faggot”) was just an insult slung around among a group of teenage friends, without any actual suspicion of homosexuality. Perhaps a sociology professor or a Gender Studies major would interpret the use of such slang insults as expressions of “toxic masculinity” or whatever, but of course all professors and Gender Studies majors are homos, by the standards of normal teenagers. When I was in high school, all the cool kids were completely cynical about politics and politicians, and considering that I attended high school during the presidencies of Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter, perhaps you can see why we were so cynical.
Also, we were stoned most of the time. Perhaps my adolescent association with dopehead hoodlums made me somewhat atypical, but there were a lot of teenagers who went through the 1970s in a state of altered consciousness. In high school, I sort of had one foot in the artsy nerd clique — marching band, choir, student theater, literary magazine, etc. — and the other foot in the long-haired rock-and-roll crowd. The prevalence of drug culture in the mid-1970s was such that some of the smartest kids in school also spent a good deal of time wasted on dope, including heavy stuff like LSD, PCP and mescaline. But I digress…
Yep, same here, pretty much—except for the LSD, which I didn’t get around to myself until later, in college. The words Stacy lists, along with others like “fuckface,” “cocksucker,” and less anthropocentric terms like “douchebag” or “dildo,” were common insults in my day too, only a handful of years behind Stacy. They were always used without ill intent, mind, hurled around among friends accompanied by much laughter and jostling. Almost nobody meant that stuff literally, snarling it out through tightly clenched teeth as a prelude to the actual bloody mayhem getting started.
By the time I was in high school in the mid-70s, widespread common interest in maliciously harassing gays (or blacks, or just about anybody else, really) was no more than a fading memory, if it ever was all that prevalent—although to be sure, there WERE pockets here and there of the exceptions that prove the rule, as our good friend Bill has painfully recounted on his own blog. Can’t say I ever saw any such where I grew up, nor heard of it neither. That doesn’t mean it never happened, I admit.
But those pockets are things we will always have with us, I’m afraid, to one degree or another. As I’ve proposed here many times: bigotry—even actual violence brought on by it—are a part of the human condition, one of the uglier expressions of our tribal nature. Far more disturbing than that to me is how very far along the SJW hysterics have dragged us all towards being completely cowed and corralled: by declaring so many harmless terms of expression taboo—even actually, literally criminalizing them—they’ve not only impoverished the language but dampened the spirit of the American people. Shitlib humorlessness is no laughing matter, it turns out.