School principal, Verenice Gutierrez, has decided that a peanut butter sandwich is racist. It is not enough that people can be racist, but now our food is racist. Everything we eat now has a vicious connotation and Ms. Gutierrez is making sure that teachers in her school take a sensitivity course so that they are not subtly racist.
From the insidious indoctrination of children with Common Core educational materials to sensitivity training for teachers so that they do not inadvertently traumatize a child by using a peanut butter sandwich as a racist teaching tool, it is obvious that we have gone off the deep end.
Have you ever seen someone tie himself into knots over not mentioning a scar or obvious handicap or a woman yelling at a deaf man so she can be heard? It can be funny, but not so funny in today's world as people become pretzels navigating the intricate and treacherous waters of Politically Correct language -- and now food.
What I have seen is that the more we bow to these made up conventions the more we fall into error and abuse. It's no wonder so many people are on drugs and why they put their children on drugs. It is almost criminal to be unhappy or disenchanted or even a rowdy child full of energy just bursting at the seams. I used to say, "If you have a problem, my mother has a pill," but what was a joke is now the default setting for society and it is nothing like the world we envisioned with the Jetsons, or even Willie Wonka, where a meal is contained in a pill form. It is so much worse. At this rate, there will soon be a pill to make everyone bland, inoffensive, and passive - or maybe it will be put into the air so a silent gas can make us either dead or Reivers like in Joss Whedon's Firefly television show. That worked out so well.
Face it. People are going to use what is different about someone else during a heated discussion or a fight and the government and schools are going to remedy that natural inclination with drugs, indoctrination, and sensitivity training. No wonder people are tense and emotionally on the edge and feel that drugs are the answer. I can hear the conspiracy theorists winding up in the bull pen.
I would have used conspiracy nuts but I've no doubt that someone on the Thought Police will cite me for food racism or worse.
Who would have thought that hippies/flower children putting daisies in the gun barrels of National Guard reservists in the 1960s and 1970s would have landed us here in a world treading on egg shells? I certainly didn't. So much for anti-establishment hippies. They have become the establishment.
I envisioned a world where 1984 was just a book by George Orwell and Animal Farm was a parody of communism, Marxism, fascism, and government control. Instead I know that Big Brother is watching us and recording all of our private conversations, chats, emails, and communications and children are being indoctrinated to believe that the government is always right and they should never question the government because it is wrong. The next thing that happens will be that the Magisterium will arise on the scene locked and loaded to make a little cut to severe us all from our souls when we are children to keep the Dust from perverting us and making us individuals unwilling to go quietly into that good dark night, leaving us in a generation with soulless zombies unquestioningly obedient to the Magisterial government that cares for us from cradle to grave so that we need never know the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat.
Maybe you shouldn't buy that white bread to go with the peanut butter and blackberry jam for your kids' lunches. Stick with hummus and pita bread. You could use roasted termites. I hear they taste just like peanut butter.
No wonder there has been such a rise in the popularity of zombie fiction. Look in the mirrored surface of the glass hill you're skating up. The zombie may be you.