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This is a question Political Correctness Gone Mad

Freddy Woo writes: "I once worked on an animation to help highlight the issues homeless people face in winter. The client was happy with the work, then a note came back that the ethnic mix of the characters were wrong. These were cartoon characters. They weren't meant to be ethnically anything, but we were forced to make one of them brown, at the cost of about 10k to the charity. This is how your donations are spent. Wisely as you can see."

How has PC affected you? (Please add your own tales - not five-year-old news stories cut-and-pasted from other websites)

(, Thu 22 Nov 2007, 10:20)
Pages: Latest, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Music in school
I was teaching a happy lesson or Yr 11's, and I had random play on my iPod. The class was being observed by the head of Yr 11 in terms of behaviour.

A tune came on, one of the kids asked "whats that tune"?

I reply - "The Day the Niggaz took over", but I can't remember who did it"..

I was summoned from the room and given a bollocking for being racist. It was the name or a song!!
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 11:39, Reply)
Thrown out of McDonald's...
Dear friends, please attend while I regale thee with the most amusing story of how I, one Devil In Tights, managed to be forcibly ejected and subsequently banned from that finest purveyor of cooked meat produce – McDonald’s.

‘Twas a balmy summer’s day in 2002. I was on my way to work (ironically in one of Wakefield’s finer eateries), and as it was due to be a long shift and my employers were notoriously bad for letting their staff grab a quick bite mid-shift, I decided to take my life in to my own hands and eat a Maccy D’s.

So, I entered the restaurant (ha, that’s a laugh in itself), and stood patiently queuing while the burger slaves did their customer’s bidding. Just as I was about to order my food, I was quite literally shoved from my position in the queue by the carer of a woman who was in a wheelchair.

Now, I’m a fairly English kind of guy, and I very rarely speak up, but this really narked me off. “Excuse me,” I said, trying to be polite as possible “but where I come from we queue and wait our turn like civilised people.”

The carer turned to me. I watched as her face turned purple. I would swear on whatever holy book you choose that steam was coming out of her ears. The woman was incandescent with rage.

“She… is… Disabled!” she sputtered, putting all of her anger and poison in to the last word of the sentence, “And as such, she deserves to be served ahead of those of us who still have the use of our legs!”

Well, of course. How stupid of me. I now had to come up with a response that would show how completely and unequivocally sorry that I was that I had committed this gross faux pas. How remorseful I was that it was all my fault that the poor woman in the wheelchair (who, incidentally, looked about the most embarrassed I have ever seen anyone look) was unable to walk, and how of course she has a constitutional right to priority service in a fast food outlet.

“I don’t give a fuck if she’s the Queen,” I said “she has to queue like everyone else.” (Subtle, see?)

People literally died on the spot. People reading the Daily Mail and the Guardian vomited on their shoes. Children started crying. The clouds did render themselves asunder, and God himself reached down from above and smote me from this Earth. Or at least that’s what it felt like. In actuality I got thrown out by the Manager of McDonald’s for behaving in an ‘inappropriate and threatening manner to someone who was unable to defend themselves’; whereas it struck me it wasn’t the person in the wheelchair who needed defending.

OK, so maybe not political correctness gone mad, but certainly a story about how political correctness saved me three quid!
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 11:31, 6 replies)
Saw a fun t-shirt in a shop in Ennistymon, Co. Clare, a part of Ireland infested with golfers, it said 'Golfers Are Vermin', with a silhouette of a golfer covered with sniper crosshairs.
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 11:04, 7 replies)
Retard Unit...
... and other fun names.

Being that I live in Sweden and haven't yet had to deal with the blithering foolishness that is "PC gone mad" I have fun playing with people who've got it engrained in their systems.

I work for an engineering company which has branches in Italy Germany the US and Sweden. When making engineering drawings we have a large database of names and words that are translated into all four languages automatically. This allows for standardisation and fewer confusing moments as we try to work out what a "Soina di ritardo" ... according to my database, it's a "Retard Pin".

We also have "Bottom-up filling pumps" and "Suction lips", but the real killer in meetings with USA-based designers is the anything with "retard" in it. I refuse to stop using a perfectly good word like "retarded" to describe the slowing down of something (usually a motion in my case) JUST because someone thinks I'll offend a someone of lower mental processing speed.

Watching pious do-gooders choke on their coffee and complain that you "can't use that word" is a joy. Usually followed up by me dragging a long and painful explanation out of them on why exactly we should abandon/change perfectly good English words... And then I usually ask if they're offended that I've spelled "Aluminium" correctly...

*Humpty potters off to tune his Retard Gate*
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 10:21, 2 replies)
Netherlands & PC
Here in the Netherlands you don’t come across PC very often. If you are Dutch you can more or less say what ever you want about any group. The PC brigade seems to be mostly expats. A friend takes great delight in rubbing up expats by telling them her dad was a nigger.

At the moment you can see this cheeky chap running around the country. The call him Zwatre Pete, Black Peter is the translation. If you ask any Dutch person who he is, the most likely answer you will get is, it’s Santa’s Slave. WTF

(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 10:14, 5 replies)
Did you know…

…that if you type ‘Racial Harmony’ into Google, you get 1,750,000 results, but if you type ‘Racial Hatred’, you get 1,900,000?

Just thought I’d mention it.
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 10:02, 9 replies)
Just A Thought
But how long do you have to have lived in the UK before you can tell someone to "fuck off back to your own country"?

2 generations? 3? 5?

Just wondering 'cos there's some Norse in my blood and a bit of porridge-wog (Scot).

(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 9:50, 11 replies)
A true one
I once went for an interview to be a diversity officer for a London council. It was a group interview and mine was the only white face among the applicants. Unfortunately for me, we had to play a 'trust game' in which we all emptied out pockets or handbags to show the others our 'private lives'

There were a few minor embarrassments: tampons, a vibrator, a porno DVD... but the contents of my holdall pretty much scuppered my chances. Inside, I had a KKK hood; one of those old Gollywog dolls with bells on its legs and a "Dance, darky, dance!" t-shirt; a copy of Enid Blyton's "Five Go a Lynchin'"; David Irving's privately published "Mengele: the Glory of Medicine" and framed picture of Enoch Powell.

Now - all of this could be explained. The 'KKK hood' was a present from a dotty old aunt whose poor eyesight and worse stitching skills had grossly mismanaged the job of making me a sailor's hat for a fancy dress party. The Gollywog was part of my research into the history of Robertson's jam advertising from the last century. The Enid Blyton book was a curiosity I'd brought along to demonstrate to the interviewing panel how times have changed, and the Irving book was something I was intending to return to Waterstones after my sister had inadvertently bought the wrong title (I'd asked for John Irving's "The World According to Garp"). The framed picture was actually just a frame - the picture came free with it.

But do you think they believed me? They did not. Political correctness gone mad, I tell you!
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 9:16, 2 replies)
About 15 years ago I ran a pub with my dad
I had a cat who lived there with me, called Snowy*.

She was as black as night. If she ever appeared anywhere near the bar someone would be bound to beckon her over and stroke her, and then usually ask me what her name was.

The looks on their faces when I answered "Snowy" were generally priceless - some people just didn't understand, but a select handful kind of clammed up and looked scared, as if I was making some kind of racist judgement on their reply =)

*I was merely being ironic by calling her Snowy, it wasn't any kind of racist comment.
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 9:09, 5 replies)
You want real, realio trulio racism?
Long story short, I left the UK because I was finally exhausted by the traffic, the litter, the tax and the space-cadets in Westminster.

Lucky me, I landed in the enlightened multicultural utopia that is Kuwait...

Forget your low-grade smouldering European racism; this is high octane, brains boiled by the desert heat god given right to rule the universe craziness.

I give for your delectation the 'Kuwait Crime' section of www.arabtimesonline.com/arabtimes/

This week's favourite, Kuwaiti man given two years probation for beating someone to death with an iron bar (it's a slow news week). I don't think you can view the archives, which is a shame, because I like the regular stories of philipino maids hanging themselves (ideally after breaking the bones of their sponsors' babies), prostitutes 'falling off balconies' (seriously, you get one of these most weeks) and labourers being deported for (gasp) going on strike having not been paid for 5 months (at 100GBP per month).

Oh, and there was the gang rape at knife point where the (asian) woman was left naked in the desert to die. But one of her (Kuwaiti) assailants gave her his mobile number, because she obviously fancied him...

Who needs political correctness when you've got an oil well?

*edit* this just in: "The girl reportedly told the school administration she was tortured for failing to do house chores."
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 6:35, 3 replies)
Here in Hong Kong foreigners are routinely referred to as gweilos- Cantonese for "White devil". Even the gweilos call themselves gweilo. I'm Pakistani and routinely call myself white devil, and no-one bats an eyelid. It's great.

Because so few of us gweilos speak Cantonese, a lot of the locals take little liberties, confident in the knowledge that they won't get rumbled. My Chinese chums, when having a Cantonese conversation with each other, will always refer to my black friend as Hak-mui (black girl) instead of using her name, even if she's in the room. Still, it's really good natured, and nobody really gives a monkey's about the rubbish little contrivances that PC is all about. Grand place.
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 2:21, 1 reply)
For some reason me and my wife starting calling each other monkey.

I'm a big black guy. She's a petite white Russian girl.

Nothing racial in it, and it wasn't until I mentioned to her once that she probably shouldn't use it in public, and she asked why that I told her it's a racist term.

In the pub, she's forgotten, and says, "My little monkey, can you get me a drink?"

Silly eavesdropping middle-aged yank woman at the table next to us, decides to intervene.

"You shouldn't use that language against that poor man. Just because he is not white, you can't call him a monkey and make him get you drinks!"

My wife, who speaks perfect english (since she's lived in Australia since she was 17, before we got to London), turned up the Russian accents and responded back "I'm sorry, what do you call your niggers here?"

The woman stammered, thought for a second, then said, "We call them African-English".

WTF? If I couldn't stop cracking up at the bar, I would have told her off for that, but it was too funny.
(, Wed 28 Nov 2007, 0:29, 6 replies)
My dear old Nan
My dear old Nan who is 90 bless, was talking about her new black neighbour. "I am not at all bothered" she says and puffs her chest with pride . "I know some people my age don't like them, but have nothing against wogs"

Obviously some people like mad red Ken would send her to prison, The fecking twunt
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 23:18, Reply)
Working with tards, again, part 2
OK, Berkshire Social Services again

Client review time, and one of my clients whilst in his 30's, was fond of toy cars (the remote control police car was great. We used to bring batteries in and play with it when he was in bed).

Social Services said I had to provide age appropriate "toys" (I forget the actual term).

I got:
1. him, a Black and Decker drill
2. me, a bollocking for not taking it seriously.
3. a "nice one" from Paul (the best boss in the world)

Honestly, what the fuck is age appropriate for a 30 something who can't read, and likes cars and wanking at the window when people walk past?
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 23:09, 8 replies)
Working with tards, again
Not so much clients this time, and how they were treated/referred to, but the staff.

I was a unit manager for a challenging behaviour unit, and we had a periodic staff review, as mandated by Berkshire County Council Social Services (Arseholes and idiots, apart from the girl from IT I was poking for a while).

Anyway, my staff did their reviews, they were the usual bunch of misfits you'd expect to find working there. The 2 nigerian girls both said I was racist towards them (actually, I just wanted then to do the work I had set and they had signed off on), and the long haired arty type said I was unfair to him as he was effeminate, all three noted that this was because I was an ex squaddie and "they're like that".

Hauled in before the boss (good bloke actually) and various others. The master card I pulled?

"Actually Paul, my girlfriend is from Trinidad ,and here's a photo of us, and the mate I am sharing a house with is a rampant gay"

Apology? was there fuck.

I got a parting shot in. Told them "I don't care about colour or anything, a fucking idiot is a fucking idiot, but I'll hate the French just for being french" the last part said looking at the (French) area manager.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 23:03, Reply)
Pennies for Africa
Until about 10 years ago Ireland wasn't the most attractive destination for refugees or migrant workers. Then we got a load of sponds from the EU and things changed a bit. I went to the post office with my granny a while ago and there were a few Nigerian women dressed in lovely colourful outfits with their kids the same.

Gran: "aren't those women gorgeous in their dresses? so colourful"

me: "yeah they are"

gran: "that'll be all those pennies we sent years ago"

length? about 5'8, shrinking slowly
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 22:43, 1 reply)
Augusta Country Club, Georgia
The home of the Masters competition (golf) over here. They dont allow female members. So a bunch of women folk decide that its time to protest and during the craziness of the Masters tournament, these women all truck down to Georgia and make the pilgrimage to the US golf mecca to protest Hootie (no, not the guy from the Blowfish) the President of the club and his refusal to allow women members.

Cue this guy: Quite possibly one of the bravest men alive. You asked "Who is da man?" Well, my vote goes to this crazy bastard:

Now thats what I call Political Correctness Corrected. :) Sorry ladies, I am just kidding...kind of. :P
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 22:24, 9 replies)
My Idea for a(n) Utopian Future
I have a plan, and a fine one at that. Y'know how someone up high likes to rant about not enough minority groups and women being employed or going to university? Hows aboot we remove names, genders and racial heritage from all CVs. Then a prospective employer's decision can only be made based on individual academic merit. You can't be racist if you don't know someone's race.

But that's far too simple.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 22:13, 9 replies)
Whos the Man
I challenge you to find a current TV advert where the male character is not a buffoon, inept, hen-pecked, wrong or the butt of a joke.

PC has made being male, wrong.

I realise this is not entirely in the spirit of this QOTW, but i just had to let off steam.

/ends rant.
//Gets wife to get a cup of tea after she has finished the ironing.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 21:26, 19 replies)
In a traffic jam last summer outside Brixton Town Hall. Romanian Gypsies moving through traffic with squeegies "washing" windscreens.
One of them approaches new Beemer in front of me ,(blacked out windows)and starts on windscreen. Enormous Dread winds down window and bellows, " Leave my faaking motor alone you bloodclaat!Why dont you Faak off back to your own country".
His accent did waver between J.A. and Sarf London.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 21:26, 2 replies)
I have to admit I love this place (.za)
for the sheer amount of toe-curling racism. Honestly, you couldn't make it up. Here's a joke I heard today (which I had to admit I had a fair old chuckle to on the basis of its harshness)

Random township, outside of arbitrary white settlement. Riot kicks off big-style - G9's are rolling in, military are on site and on spec, and they're ready to issue a beating. Various international media types and journalists are present behind the military lines as the riot continues to build a head of steam.


No-one moves, so they knock the shit out of the townspeople with the water cannons. They disperse pretty rapidly, but then mass again in force.

No-one moves, so they knock the shit out of the townspeople with the tear gas. They disperse pretty rapidly, but then mass again in force.

No-one moves, so they knock the shit out of the townspeople with the rubber bullets. They disperse pretty rapidly, but then mass again in force.

By this point, the journalists are getting nervous and a few are leaving thinking they're going to get moered.

No-one moves, so they let loose the canine unit. EVERY single townsperson disappears at top speed, chased by several angry, hungry dogs each. The riot is quelled.

The journalists are amazed. "How the hell did you get them to disperse with just the dogs? Why not just send them in first?"

Boer sarge replies "Well bru, unless you wash 'em, fumigate 'em and tenderise 'em tha bladdy dogs wont eat 'em"

(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 21:12, Reply)
I got in trouble...
...with my art teacher at school for saying that my (gay) mate should be in charge of the art direction for our coursework piece because he was 'good with colours.'

She failed to take into account the fact that i'm colour blind, and he'd won an art scholarship into a prestigious art school.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 20:58, Reply)
Working with tards
Many years ago, I worked in with the mentally handicapped (as they were known then) when care in the community came along (and they became clients exhibiting challening behaviour). One of our clients was a right stroppy bugger, and we had a thing like a childs reins that was really a short webbing strap with a velcro loop on one end (round his wrist) and a handle on the other (in the carers(!) hand. Stopped him running off, acting about etc a treat. No need to discipline, drag or whatever him, just the thing round his wrist and he behaved

Berkshire Social Services said we weren't to use it. First time out, under a car (minor injuries) he got up, and slammed into a bus (major dead)

Nice one. More to follow.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 19:19, 3 replies)
Hot kangaroo loving in the non-fiction section
Last year I applied for an xmas temp job at a certain book store. On the application form, along with the usual "we don't want to judge you on your ethnicity, but tell us all about it" PC bumf was a complete gem of a question:

What is your sexual preference?
Opposite sex
Same sex
Both sexes
Other (please specify)

Thinking they couldn't discriminate as sexual preference in no way effects your shelf stacking skills, I wrote marsupials. Never got that interview.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 18:26, 1 reply)
My experiences
As a turban wielding Sikh I have lots of fun on a daily basis... but two experiences stick out in my mind:

1. About a year ago, I was on the tube, and LU had obviously been taking lessons on sardine packing from John West. A lady brushed her elbow on my turban, and I could see the look of horror in her eyes as she began apologizing profusely. She wasn't amused when I jokingly asked her if he was trying to "feel me up".

2. About 6 months ago a 3 year old with his mom on a train pointed to me and went "what's that man wearing?" Cue much embarrassment and shouting at the kid from the mom. WTF??
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 18:05, 7 replies)
PC Gone Mad....
I'm scared to post this video anywhere despite the fact that it is stupidly funny.


Gone mad I tell ya.
(, Tue 27 Nov 2007, 17:29, 2 replies)

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