I’ve always wanted a bumper sticker that said something like I live by bumper stickers. It would be amusing to observe the near equal split between libs who perceived the insult and their dimmer kindred who wanted a copy to display beside the obligatory COEXIST.
As any human or kangaroo recognizes innately, a festooned Prius is the leper’s bell of white liberalism. And one whose sanctimony tolls well in advance of arrival. It’s fascinating how historical advertisements of wealth or virility have given way to ones of smug vacuity in this sub-species. Fascinating because expressions of I’m passionately insipid don’t overtly suggest reproductive fitness, though our presently acting forces are more than a little malforming.
Regardless, it’s not only liberals driving under an accumulation of picayune moral peacocking who swoon for an attractive phrase, but mentally inert conservatives also. The point being: if you want to change the world, craft a punchy slogan.
It’s quite a lark how eagerly people embrace loopy adages. The more uplifting and transcendent, the tighter held. By bumper-sticker anecdote, it’s plain most prefer their paradigms to be positive, universal, and a comfortable distance from reality.
As an example, our beloved All men are created equal is about the least self-evident truth since rumors surfaced that Lindsey Graham was writing under the pseudonym Heartiste. That even the vaguest examination refutes the created equal premise has been wholly inadequate to dent the sentiment. Those shivers are too delicious. And so we swim through life wearing bricks instead of flippers because a long-ago man sought a florid phrase to impress the British crown.
Obviously the ranks of beautifully frivolous adages are almost innumerable. The puerile you can be anything you want being a particularly obstinate example. One can almost always do more than present, though infrequently anything we want. That is unless human ambition is universally modest. But with those so dull as to be swayed by them, ridiculous axioms generate ridiculous beliefs. And those are termites in the societal floorboards.
Perhaps America’s most solemn statement is the instruction to judge a person not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. This uttered by the man who looked down on God and smiled. It’s gratifying to have eternity available to execute this moral guidance. But for those of you whose time here is finite, such mandatory evaluations represent quite an obligation.
This because we haven’t the slightest notion of most people’s characters before being forced into judgement by time and circumstance. A great many spouses fail to understand their partner’s true character after years of marriage, though that is no excuse for your own failure to perform a thorough due diligence.
For example, a petite white woman who finds a hulking black man following her from a club could either promptly find safety, or pause to evaluate the content of his character. It’s a task she may have the rest of her life to complete. Assuredly the SPLC and mainstream conservatism know its proper resolution: in the absence of perfect and unbiased knowledge, make no judgements at all. That is how gazelles end up in intestinal tracts, petite white women in obituaries, and societies in museums.
Though a person or people immobilized in persistent evaluative ruminations does have advantages…just not to them. That is why MLK was so adamant that people other than his own accept the obligation. Not so much for the benefit of surly teens who might suffer the indignity of judgmental street crossings, than for the macro-effects of mandatory societal character mining. Because this mandate makes necessary decisions of scale impossible. Certainly American blacks have represented generations of intractable social pathology, though who among you has evaluated all of their characters to say?
Similarly, there is a difference between 20 million Germans and an equal number of Nigerians. Though what that is can not be understood without 40 million meticulous content assessments. And if you’re not even willing to do that then there’s simply no reason at all a billion Africans shouldn’t be accepted. The astute understand these intentionally insurmountable requirements, as the hoi polloi struggle in vain to meet them and are excoriated upon their failure.
As always, the cunning devour the credulous. And that’s the only bumper sticker you need.