Editor's note: The powers that be at WND.com have told Michael Ackley he may submit the occasional column. As Golden State madness has accelerated, Mr. Ackley has succumbed to the urge to get back in the game. Hence, the items below. Remember that his columns may include satire and parody based on current events, and thus mix fact with fiction. He assumes informed readers will be able to tell the difference.
The scene: The executive suite of Indefensible Artists records, Hollywood, California.
The players: Harry Hackles, president of Indefensible Artists
Howard Bashford, vice president, communications
Amy Handleman, human resources director
Hackles speaks: "I'm proud to tell you, Indefensible Artists' Record's newest … uh … artist has finished in the studio, the mixing is done, and we are ready to send the masters out to be pressed.
"And furthermore, I think this album will be hailed as a masterpiece."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hackles," said Handleman, "but I find the word 'master' and anything like it offensive. Those words remind me of the time 155 years ago, when Ol' Massa' held enslaved people."
"Slaves?" replied Hackles, thrown off balance by the HR boss. "What do we have to do with slaves?"
"We don't," sniffed Handleman. "The accepted term now is 'enslaved people.'"
"Why is that?" interjected Bashford.
"Why is not important," snapped Handleman. "It has been decided.
"Take 'master.' Realtors, for example, are avoiding that one. No more 'master suite.' It's 'primary bedroom' now. Besides, 'master' is sexist."
"Ha, ha," laughed Bashford. "I guess you could say, 'Massa's in the cold, cold ground.'"
"Good one!" exclaimed Hackles, but Handleman frowned.
"Some subjects you can't joke about, "she declared, "and this is one of them."
"No jokes at all?" queried Hackles. "That would really shackle our conversation."
"Shackle!" Handleman shouted. "You can't say 'shackle.' It reminds people of the days of enslaved people. Contemporary Black people become fearful and unable to function when they hear it."
"What about 'chains'?" asked Bashford. "Joe Biden said 'chains' just the other day."
"That's OK for Vice President Biden," said Handleman, emphasizing the title. "After all, Black people love him … or they aren't really Black."
Hackles frowned and muttered, "I'm wondering how I got roped into this conversation."
"ROPE!" Handleman shrieked. "You can't say 'rope.' Rope is used to make (and here she whispered) nooses. It is totally offensive. Now you have to say 'jumbo twine.'"
Hackles tried to calm his HR director. "OK, OK. Don't whip yourself into a frenzy."
"WHIP!? WHIP!?" yelled Handleman. "You clearly have no idea how offensive that word is. Next you'll be using racist terms like 'loot' and 'thug.'"
It was Bashford's term to be perplexed. "How are 'loot' and 'thug' racist?" he asked. "They haven't even been English words for very long. They're Indian."
"INDIAN!" wheezed Handleman. "You should know enough to say 'Native American'!"
"Not that kind of Indian," said Bashford, a bit irritated. "They're Hindi Indian, and they weren't part of the English lexicon until early in the 19th century A.D."
"Well, that gives me a clue to where you're coming from," said Handleman, struggling to regain verbal momentum. "'A.D.' – 'year of our Lord' – indeed. You probably use 'B.C.,' meaning 'before Christ,' instead of the non-offensive BCE, 'before Common Era.'
"You should know that wherever they came from, 'loot' and 'thug' are rooted in racism. It has been decided."
"How is that?" asked Hackles wearily.
Handleman sneered, "It's all over Facebook. It's a consensus. It has been decided by the great Facebook universe. Therefore, those words mean what we choose them to mean – neither more nor less. This is especially true here in Hollywood."
"By the way," she continued, "I've just come from a meeting where your staff decided you two have to resign. Actually, you have to apologize and resign. Because of your racism and bigotry."
"What … what … what racism? What bigotry?" sputtered Hackles and Bashford together.
"Mr. Hackles, you employed a derogatory word for a bully who beat you up in junior high school," Handleman declared. "And you, Mr. Bashford, were seen reading Joseph Conrad's 'The N-word of the Narcissus.' How dare you!"
"But my book bore the American title, 'The Children of the Sea,'" Bashford protested, and Hackles added, "I was only 12 and a half!"
"It doesn't matter," said Handleman. "You both have been voted o-u-t."
"Well, Amy … uh … Ms. Handleman," began Hackles, "I am sorry ... and ..."
"That's not much of an apology. Besides, it's too late," Handleman interrupted.
"I am sorry," Hackles continued," but this isn't the New York Times. You're fired."
"But, the staff voted," gasped Handleman.
"And so have I," Hackles said calmly, "and I outvoted the rest of you. Clean out your desk and be off! Or I'll have you arrested."
As she left, Bashford mused, "Amy sure has learned her Saul Alinsky: 'He who controls the language controls the masses.'"
Leaving the building, Handleman was heard muttering, "It has been decided!"
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