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Politically Correct

I’ve been fortunate to have the time and inclination to write.

I first learned the phrase “politically correct” in 1990 after I got out of the army, having read about it in magazine. I wasn’t raised that way; nobody I hang around or ever hung around was ever politically correct; and I’ve only read things like that since, you guessed it, 1990. Know that I have no respect for it, and read it only to laugh at the author, thinking of him or her like a cat licking the bottom of its paws after leaving its litter box and beginning to purr.

I write the stark truth; I’ll never lie.

When I edit my writing, I never ask, “Will that offend anyone?” or “Should I soften that so I don’t hurt someone’s feelings?”

Know, too, that I don’t write to hurt people’s feelings; nor do I ever intend to offend or be controversial. When the controversy dies, the writing dies with it, and what’s the point of offending people?

Know that hypocrisy, a form of stupidity, amuses me, and that I have a mordant sense of humor.

I’m a pacifist and am apolitical, seeing all of politics as evil, believing that politics is a gateway to suffering. Still, I do follow the news, my main purpose being to understand the motives the great ones of this world, scanning their traits to use in a character in a novel or play.

To understand my pacifism and the reasons I’m apolitical, read Tolstoy’s On Civil Disobedience and Nonviolence and The Kingdom of God is Within You.

I do not, however, believe in trying to convert people to my views. This is the way I live; you live the way you want, according to your understanding of life and your conscience.

All of life is spread out before me. Nothing is off-limits.

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