
…so say what you want!
Isn’t that relaxing? Isn’t it great knowing there are people who won’t sue you for offending them? Yes, we exist! I don’t censor you with political correctness. I don’t report you to Human Resources. I don’t demand you fill my day with like-minded words, and you know why? Because propping up my comfort is not your job. Worry about your own comfort. Mine’s covered.
I’m Christian, but you needn’t speak Christianese (though I’m blessed by your thoughtful spirit when you try…and yes, Jesus did score that touchdown through me…I’m just a vessel…). I’m a white male, but you needn’t fit the term “militia” into every sentence (we do that enough at our meetings).
I’m straight, but you needn’t avoid the term, “homophobia.” Though moronic, it sounds kind of cool, like “home ownership,” or “suburbia.” Yep, fun word. I like to say it while listening to jazz music: “Homophooooobiiiiaaahhh…yeah, dig it…” In fact, they should have used it in Star Wars:
“Luke, I am your homophooooobiiiiaaahhh…yeah, dig it…”
“No! That’s not true! That’s impossible! I don’t even know what that means!”
Point is, I want you to speak on your terms, not mine. You’re among friends here. So be yourself.
Just do me one favor, okay? Let me be myself, too. Let me speak on my terms. Let me discuss topics freely, without weighing every phrase to appease some member of the speech police. And on what topic has that freedom been most denied? No contest—illegal immigration.
Verbal Bigots
Let’s look at Fox News’s Geraldo Rivera and Univision’s Jorge Ramos.
When Geraldo omits “illegal” during debates on illegal immigration, he displays racial bias. Insisting we use the term, “undocumented,” Geraldo willfully ignores how it is illegal to cross our border without documentation. “Undocumented” means “illegal,” and Geraldo knows it. But out of allegiance to his race (a state I abhor for any group), Geraldo wants this topic discussed on his terms. Wow. More loyal to his race than to honesty, Geraldo leaves interviewers dancing around jargon rather than discussing solutions—which he never offers, anyway.
Geraldo’s a classic speech cop, so you can’t just be yourself around him—at least not on this topic. You can’t just talk plainly. Like the liberal at work itching to call Human Resources, Geraldo seeks to alter your very speech. It’s a power play; a control device. Most of us see conversations as chances to learn and share, but leftists like Geraldo think, “Dance puppet, dance.”
What a racist pig—yes, I said “pig.” Geraldo deserves it. After all, if I pushed people to reword sentences out of respect for my whiteness—and if I did it to downplay white crime—what would that make me? Ummm…gee, let’s see…a racist pig!
Meanwhile, Jorge Ramos parrots the protest, “No person is ‘illegal!’”—yet this racist knows full well no one is being called an illegal person. They are being called illegal immigrants, because it is their unlawful entrance to our country—not their act of being human—that is illegal. But Jorge doesn’t care. If someone immigrates illegally, bigots like him and Geraldo commence juggling terms—all to hide lawbreaking by their preferred brand.
Memo to Geraldo and Jorge: I’ve never re-worked terminology to help those who look like me. Never. Why? Because normal people don’t do that, you racist pigs! Don’t lecture me on what words I can use while you protect your “kind.” “Illegal Immigrants” are people who immigrate illegally—period!
Likewise, “anchor baby” denotes giving birth in America to anchor a child and yourself in this nation—it is a perfectly designed term. It rolls off the tongue with purpose. Everyone should use it:
“Luke, I am your anchor baby!”
“No! That’s not true! That’s impossible! Like seriously, it isn’t possible!”
America Finds Freedom…In a Blowhard
Be honest. Aren’t you sick of liberals trying to control speech? Of course you are!
This is why Donald Trump has become so popular: He mocks the speech police. Donald Trump is that rare example of a blowhard at the end of the bar who, without warning, says something lucid; something coherent. Amidst touting flat taxes where the rich pay more (?) and saying Kuwait should send us half their oil—forever—Donald suddenly gives voice to our deepest frustration:
“No, I’ll use the word, ‘anchor baby.’”
“Wait, what? What was that?”
(Staring back into his beer, the blowhard mumbles) “Wife left me…I come here ta think...damn kids…”
“Oh, I thought I heard—”
“…and if someone comes here illegally, they’re an illegal immigrant!”
“Wait, what?”
“Kuwait…half their oil…damn kids…”
Yes, Trump’s points are hard to follow—like tracking butterflies in a tornado—but do you remember his news conference where Jorge Ramos imploded? Interrupting other reporters who had waited their turn, Univision’s anchor/activist (can I say that?) got served. “Siddown!” said Trump, showing no deference to Ramos’s race. “Go back to Univision.”
Priceless. A bigot barged in line—rudely—and got treated like any other line-jumper. Somehow, the guy at the end of the bar spoke forth what we all wished we could say.
So, is Trump reading our minds? Nope, he’s just arrogant and doesn’t care—but the results are still sweet. Either way, the very kind of entitled racist most of us bitterly accommodate got smacked down. I had to see a surgeon afterward; you know, to remove the smile from my face.
My Inner Voice—In Trump Form
Here we see Donald’s great source of power. In a nation where ever-shifting speech codes suffocate reason, this guy comes along and mocks our tormenters. The results? He’s not a Conservative, but Conservatives love him. He can’t recall a single scripture, but Christians love him. He’s about as Tea Party as an Occupy protester, but Tea Partiers love him.
This is how much we hate the speech police. This is how deeply we resent Geraldo’s and Jorge’s who badger us away from plain discourse—all to benefit their race. Their creepy, bigoted tones irritate us so intensely, we walk right by better candidates and into the arms of a blowhard. We no longer care if the country runs well; we’re past that now. We just want these people shut up.
So what about me? Do I like Trump? You bet I do.
Donald speaks to that person in me—in many of us—who feels suffocated under a nation of self-appointed speech police. Donald doesn’t care what we say. Donald doesn’t sue us for offending him. And better still, Donald taunts those who do. Listening to Donald Trump, I feel like for the first time in decades, I’m coming up for air out of merciless waters, gasping for breath and squinting in the light…
…and it doesn’t matter that he only accepts me because he has no standards.
With Donald Trump as president, virtually all his promises will go unfulfilled, but that’s okay. Why? Because at long last, I can be myself again. Say what you want about that guy at the end of the bar, but at least he leaves me alone. He’s mumbling gibberish, sometimes for hours…sometimes in front of huge crowds…but that’s just his way. And with Trump as president, I too can finally start speaking the way I was meant to speak:
On my terms.