When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops? (17 page)

Not all the political manipulation of language is done by the big bad politicians. A lot of it comes from people who think of themselves as good and virtuous: the politically active. Activists. As opposed, I guess, to “passivists.” Who should not be confused with pacifists, who are, after all, quite often activists.

GOD HELP US

Let’s start with faith-based, which was chosen by right-wing holy people to replace the word religious in political contexts. In other words, they’ve conceded that religion has a bad name. I guess they figured people worry about religious fanatics, but no one’s ever heard of a faith-basedfanatic.

And by the way, none of the Bush religious fanatics will admit this, but the destruction of the World Trade Center was a faith-based initiative. A fundamentalist-Moslem, faith-based initiative. Different faith, but hey, were all about diversity here.

The use of faith-based is just one more way the Bush administration found to bypass the Constitution. They knew Americans would never approve of government-promoted religious initiatives, but faith-based? Hey, what’s the problem?

The term faith-based is nothing more than an attempt to slip religion past you when you’re not thinking; which is the way religion is always slipped past you. It deprives you of choice; choice being another word the political-speech manipulators find extremely useful.

CHOOSING SIDES

School choice, and the more sophisticated version, parental choice, are code phrases that disguise the right wing’s plan to use government money to finance religious education. If you hear the word voucher, watch out for the religious right. Again, though, be alert for the more sophisticated term for vouchers: opportunity scholarships.

It’s impossible to mention the word choice without thinking of the language that has come out of the abortion wars. Back when those battles were first being joined, the religious fanatics realized that antiabortion sounded negative and lacked emotional power. So they decided to call themselves pro-life. Pro-life not only made them appear virtuous, it had the additional advantage of suggesting their opponents were anti-life, and, therefore, pro-death. They also came up with a lovely variation designed to get you all warm inside: pro-family.

Well, the left wing didn’t want to be seen as either anti-life or pro-death, and they knew pro-abortion wasn’t what they needed, so they decided on pro

choice. That completed the name game and gave the world the now classic struggle: pro-choice vs. pro-life. The interesting part is that the words life and choice are not even opposites. But there they are, hangin’ out together, bigger than life.

And by the way, during this period of name-choosing, thanks to one more touch of left-wing magic, thousands of abortionists’ offices were slowly and mysteriously turning into family-planning clinics.

And on the subject of those places, I think the left really ought to do something about this needlessly emotional phrase back-alley abortions. uWe don’t want to go back to the days of back-alley abortions.” Please. Its over-descriptive; how many abortions ever took place in back alleys? Or, okay, in places where the entrance was through a back alley? Long before Roe v. Wade, when I was a young man, every abortion I ever paid for took place in an ordinary doctor’s office, in a medical building. We came in through the front door and took the elevator. The three of us. Of course, as we were leaving, the elevator carried a lighter load.

A BUNNY IN THE OVEN?

Then there’s the fetus-unborn child argument. Even leaving aside personal feelings, the semantics of this alone are fun to unravel. To my way of thinking, whatever it is, if it’s unborn, it’s not a child. A child has already been born; that’s what makes it a child. A fetus is not a child, because it hasn’t been born yet. That’s why it’s called a fetus. You can call it an unborn fetus if you want (it’s redundant), but you can’t call it an unborn child. Because not to belabor thisto be a child, it has to be born. Remember? The word unborn may sound wonderful to certain people, but it doesn’t tell you anything. You could say a Volkswagen is unborn. But what would it mean?

The fanatics have another name for fetuses. They call them the pre-born. Now we’re getting creative. If you accept pre-born, I think you would have to say that, at the moment of birth, we go instantly from being pre-born to being pre-dead. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Technically, we’re all pre-dead. Although, if you think about it even harder, the word pre-dead probably would best be reserved for describing stillborn babies. The post-born pre-dead.

By the way, I think the reason conservatives want all these babies to be born is that they simply like the idea of birth. That’s why so many of them have been born again. They can’t get enough of it.

TARZAN WOULD BE MORTIFIED

Here’s some more left-wing nonsense, this time from the environmentalists, the folks who gave us the rainforest. “Save the rain forest.” They decided to call it that because they needed to raise money, and they knew no one would give them money to save a. jungle. “Save the jungle” doesn’t sound right. Same with swamp. “Save the swamp!” Not gonna work. Swamp became wetland! Nicer word. Sounds more fragile. “Save the wetlands.” Send money.

But I think the environmentalists still have their work cut out for them when it comes to global warming and the greenhouse effect. As I see it, these terms are far too pleasant for people to get all worked up about. For one thing, global is too all-embracing for Americans; it’s not selfish enough. “Isn’t globalization that thing that’s been stealing our jobs?” Global doesn’t make it. And warming is such a nice word. Who wouldn’t want a little warming?

Similarly, greenhouse effect will never do. A greenhouse is full of plants and flowers, full of life and growth. Green equals life, house equals shelter. The

greenhouse effect sounds like something that gives you life and shelter and growth. You re never gonna turn something like that into a villain.

And the environmentalists have another language problem, this one concerning nuclear energy: meltdowns. They like to warn us about meltdowns. But a meltdown sounds like fun, doesn’t it? It sounds like some kind of cheese sandwich. “Would you like some fries with that meltdown?”

Here is more of the distorted language of political persuasion:

Conservatives oppose gun control. Liberals know control is a negative word, so they call it gun safety. That’s about what you’d expect, but it’s hard to find words to describe the following distortion: some of the pro-gun people are referring to gun control as victim disarmament. Isn’t that stunning? Victim disarmament! It takes your breath away. Like a gun.

Liberals call it affirmative action-, conservatives are less positive. They re fer to government-mandated quotas, racial preferences and unfair set-asides.

Rich Republicans want to keep their money in the family, and so the Re publican party began to call the inheritance tax (a pro-tax term) the estate tax (a neutral term), which they later changed to the death tax (an anti-tax term).

When liberals talk about spending, they call it investing or funding. Funding means spending money. uWe need to do more to fund education.” On the other side of the ledger, when Republicans need to raise taxes, they call it revenue enhancement.

The energy criminals now refer to oil drilling as oil exploration. Instead of Mobil and Exxon, they’d rather you picture Lewis and Clark.

When the original Enron story was developing, Bush’s people referred to the crimes as violations. They said a review might be necessary, but not an investigation. So I guess if the other guys do it, it’s a crime that should be investigated, but if your guys do it, it’s a violation that should be reviewed.

Liberals call it global warming, conservatives call it climate change.

If you want the individual to sound shady and suspicious, you call him an Eye-racky. If you want to upgrade him a bit, he becomes an Iraqi-American. If you’re trying to clean him up completely, you call him an American citizen of Iraqi descent.

When people came to this country, primarily from Europe, they were called immigrants and refugees. As they began arriving from Latin America and the Caribbean, we started calling them aliens. Some of them are here illegally. Those in this country who sympathize with that group don’t call them illegal aliens, they refer to them as undocumented workers. Or guest workers. Sometimes they’re identified by the purely descriptive term the newly arrived.

Most-favored-nation trade status was considered too positive a term for China, so it was decided instead to call it normal trade relations. Aside from the language, there is no difference between the two policies.

The Nazis referred to the extermination of the Jews as special action. In their version, the Jews were not killed, they were resettled, evacuated or transferred. The dead were referred to as the no longer relevant.

In Palestine, Arabs refer to the areas Jews have taken over as occupied ter ritories. Jews call them disputed areas. The Israelis call their assassinations of Palestinian leaders focused thwartings, pinpoint elimination and preven tive measures.

At one time in Iraq Hussein called the hostages he was holding his guests.

Countries we used to call rogue nations are now referred to as nations of concern, so we can talk with them without insulting them outright. But as a result of bad behavior, North Korea has been downgraded from a state of concern to a rogue state. Likewise, failed nations are now called messy states. Underdeveloped countries have also been upgraded. They’re now developing nations.

And finally . . .

During the election that defeated Manuel Noriega in Panama, there were groups of thugs that wandered around beating and killing people and looting stores. They called themselves dignity battalions.

HOW GOES IT?

If you enjoyed my earlier description of my new system for wishing people a nice day, perhaps you’ll be interested in the following, equally innovative method I employ in similar situations. The difference is that this attempt to relieve the tedium of short exchanges involves the replies I give, as opposed to the good wishes I offer.

As an example, when someone asks me how I am, I try to make my answer as specific as possible. I’m not the type to toss off a casual, “I’m fine.’ I take care to express my exact condition. And thanks to my creative flair, I can choose from a number of options:

If I’m in a self-protective mood, a simple “guardedly well” often does the job. I find also “tentatively keen’ doesn’t give too much away. Of course, if there is the least bit of doubt, I simply rely on my old standby, the ever-cautious, “I’m fairly well, comparatively speaking.’ That works nicely, especially if I feel I genuinely have something to hide.

If I wish to be a little more open, “I’m semi-dandy, thank you for inquiring ” is effective, and has the added advantage of acknowledging the other person’s contribution to the exchange.

By the way, should it be one of today’s trendy kids, I’m quick to drop a hip and with-it “moderately neato,” in order to show that I’m really a cool guy and not just some old fuddy-duddy. Once again, with “moderately neato’ I reveal only a limited bit of information.

TAKE THAT!

But sometimes I’m having one of my really great days, and I’m in a jaunty and expansive mood. In these situations I tend to throw caution to the wind and express my full feelings. Innocently enough, the person will inquire, “How are you?” And he has no idea what’s coming. So I give him both barrels.

I lean forward, look him squarely in the eye, and hit him with a quick and cheery lTm good, well, fine, keen, dandy, swell and excellent! And, might I add, fabuloso!” Believe me, I’ve bowled over more than one unsuspecting inquirer with this sudden volley of positive energy.

WEEKEND WISHES

Just so you know, I’m prepared for other situations as well. If someone says, “Have a nice weekend,” I never say, “You too.” Because I never know if, perhaps, by the time the weekend rolls around, I will have other plans for that person. Come Friday, I may wish to have them slain.

YULETIDE

Also, I never say, “A merry Christmas to you and yours.” I don’t like the possibilities suggested by that use of the possessive pronoun yours. One never knows when the other person may be a slave owner. I certainly wouldn’t want to encourage that sort of behavior.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

One last thing: My stingingly clever remarks sometimes extend to retail encounters. When the supermarket checkout person asks, “Paper or plastic?” I often say, “Woven silk,” just to keep him on his toe.s. “Rolled steel” is not a bad answer either.

I’m happy to pass along to you these methods of mine for making the world a better place. I hope you use them wisely, and, may I be so bold as to say, “Have an excellent immediate future.’

TOO MANY THANKYOUS HOSTS & GUESTS

I find it bothersome that on radio and TV interview shows, once the host says, “Thank you for being here,” the guest always thinks he has to say* “Thank you for having me.” It’s not necessary. All that’s needed is a simple “You’re welcome” or “Nice to be here.” “Having people on” is what they do on interview shows; they’re looking for guests all the time. There’s no need to thank them.

The same is true of radio call-in shows. The people who call in say, “Thank you for taking my call.” Why do they bother? Think about it. Taking calls is what these shows do. They’re call-in shows; they take calls. That’s their function. Why thank them for doing what they can’t avoid? It bothers me that people even think they need to say these things. It’s all very insincere.

TELEPHONE OPERATORS

And on the subject of insincerity, let’s not forget the nonsense that telephone operators are ordered to say by their corporate-drone bosses. Keeping in mind, of course, that telephone operators are not operators anymore, they’re attendants. Telephone attendants. Or telephone representatives. I’ve also heard them called communications facilitators, and customer care professionals.

Anyway, these operators used to say, “Who did you want to speak with?” Now it’s, “How may I direct your call?” I don’t like that. It sounds artificial. And it has a ring of self-importance. “How may I direct your call?” Jesus, everyone wants to direct; it’s not just actors anymore. And when you tell them who you’re trying to reach, they say, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to forward your call.” Sounds polite, doesn’t it? Its not. It’s insincere.

TOO MANY TELEPHONE THANKYOUS

And on the subject of telephone operators, another complaint I have about these people takes me back to my original pointthe unnecessary overuse of thank you. These days, I think there are far too many thank-yous being thrown around on the telephone. “Thank you for this,” “Thank you for that,” “Thank you for something else.” I find myself being thanked for everything I do, and then some.

I recently called a friend who was staying at the Marriott. He was staying at the Marriott. I called him thereat the Marriott. I intentionally dialed the number of the Marriott, because that’s where I expected him to be. The connection went through. Guess what the operator said? Right. “Thank you for calling the Marriott.” Well, what did she think I was going to do? Call the Hyatt? He was staying at the Marriott. It wouldn’t do me much good to call the Hyatt. We all know what they would have said: “Thank you for calling the Hyatt.”

They even thank you for doing things you cant avoid. Did you ever have an operator say. “Thank you for calling the operator?” I’ve had that happen. Well, who did she think I was gonna call, the night watchman? The chairman of the board? Jesus! Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s annoying.

One time, at a hotel, I wanted to get my car. Naturally, I needed to call valet parking. I noticed the little plastic card next to my telephone. It said “Press nine for valet parking.” I was about to press nine, but then I noticed I didn’t have to press nine, because right there on the phone one of the speed-dial buttons had a little picture of a car next to it, and it said “Valet parking.’ So I pushed that button. The one that said “Valet parking.” The one with the picture of the car. Someone answered. You know what he said? Right. “Thank you for calling valet parking.”

Well, fuck! Didn’t he know that if a guest wants to retrieve his car, he more or less has to call valet parking? That’s where the cars are! And doesn’t he know the designers of hotel telephones have gone to a great deal of trouble to make it easy for people to get their cars? I had simply taken advantage of their skills; I had called valet parking by pressing a single button. A button marked with a little picture of a car.

And I can assure you, folks, if I had thought for even a split second that valet parking didn’t have my carfor instance, if I’d thought the bartender had itI would have called the cocktail lounge. I would have pressed the little button with the picture of the martini next to it. Which would, of course, have given the bartender a chance to say, “Thank you for calling the cocktail lounge.”

One further complaint: These days, if I call a hotel from the outside, the telephone operators waste an awful lot of my time: “Hello. Thank you for calling the Lincoln Plaza Hotel-Resort and Conference Center, my name is Ta-neesha, have a nice day, and how may I direct your call?” And 1 say, “I’ll have to get back to you. I forgot why I called.” Sometimes, just to scare the operator, I’ll sob, “It’s too late. He just died.”

Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s too much. Occasionally, a recording will thank me. “Thank you for using AT&T.” How can this be? Isn’t gratitude a personal feeling? Recording devices don’t have personal feelings, do they? No. But I do. And I feel this showy, hyper-politeness must be stopped. Thank you for reading this far.

FURTHER THOUGHTS ON EXPLODING HEADS

Wouldn’t it be interesting if the only way you could die was that suddenly your head blew up? If there were no other causes of death? Everyone died the same way? Sooner or later, without warning, your head simply exploded? You know what I think? I think people would get used to it. I believe people can learn to take anything in stride if they think it’s unavoidable.

Picture a bunch of guys singhV “Happy Birthday”:

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Charlie . ..” BOOM!! And Charlie’s head blows up. But all the candles go out, so it’s actually a form of good luck. And everyone applauds.

Of course, there’d be an occasional downside. “God, another head? That’s two this week. I just had this suit cleaned.” But we’d learn to deal with it.

Let’s say you were sitting in a restaurant with your girlfriend, and the waiter was reciting the specials:

“Tonight we have the marinated bat nipples on a bed of lightly sauteed panda assholes . . .” BOOM!! The waiter’s head explodes. I’ll bet you wouldn’t miss a beat.

“Honey, did he say bat nipples or cat nipples? We’d better get another waiter. And some fresh salsa. I’m not eating this stuff; he was holding it when he blew. So anyway, I’m allergic to bat nipples. I think I might go with the free-range penguin dick or the deep-dish moose balls. How about you? Wait, hold still. There’s a little piece of eyebrow on your cheek. There, I got it. By the way, honey, what wine goes with brain?”

JUST A STONE’S THROW

When I watch news tapes of the Intifada from Palestine, and see the Arab kids throwing stones at Israeli tanks, I always have fun watching for the kids who are lefthanded, because lefthanders have kind of a natural curveball. It’s really interesting. I cant wait till major league baseball comes to the Middle East. Incidentally, I also noticed that Arab kids usually throw in a high arc, whereas the Catholic kids in Northern Ireland throw more of a line drive. Either way is all right with me as long as they’re accurate. Kids are great.

Bud’s Medical Center: C’mon In!

“Hi. I’m Bud, president and head doctor of Buds Medical Center. Come on in to Bud’s. This weekend were havin’ a special on head injuries: any sort of head injury you got, from a black eye to a completely caved-in skull, just a dollar fifty this weekend at Bud’s. Well also give a free estimate to anyone who’s bleedin’. So if you’re sick, injured, diseased, hurt, maimed, disfigured or just plain don’t feel good, come on in to Bud’s Medical Center. Bud’s: Where all the sick people go.’