Recently, I transferred to Hamline University, a private Methodist college in Minnesota. Barring any unforeseen problems, I will graduate in 2008. Nonetheless, the bureaucrats that be require I take what is known as a “first-year seminar,” which is supposed to orientate one to the college experience. Topics vary, but spring students have one option, titled, “Rap Music and Street Consciousness.”

The allegation was that, in this course, we would be studying rap music. If that were truly the case, life would be good, or, as it were, better than it is. Unfortunately, the class is being used simply as a vehicle to disguise a gruesomely radical brand of activism that seeks to legitimize vulgarity, racism, socialism – in essence, it seeks to degrade whatever standards have traditionally contributed to what our society has accepted as morality.

The first day, students were told to come up with “standards for discussion.” The teacher proceeded to “let us know” what past classes came up with (also undoubtedly at her urging); they included, among a litany of other things, that our discussions proceed in “such a way that we prevent perpetuating stereotypes.”

When it came time for us to bring up our ideas, I commented, “There are only three white guys in the room. We’ll probably be the only ones saying anything offensive, and that’s our prerogative. It is then the prerogative of the girls to get mad at us. Let’s leave it at not being racist or sexist.”

“Why do you feel that way?” the teacher questioned. I wanted to respond, “Because intellectual prostitutes like you have taught girls and minority races to feel victimized, while telling white males that we are the greater oppressors. Hence, women and members of minority races look for ways to be offended, while white males are generally pretty laid back in their roles as oppressors.” However, I simply responded that I have never been offended by a racist comment directed at me.

“But why do you say that?” the instructor pressed on. I replied, “Well, you see, I’m trying to have a sense of humor.” That was in contrast to my desired reply, “It’s called a joke. Because you’re a radical feminist who believes men should be silent and accept their role as your whipping boy, you wouldn’t get it.” I drawled on for another minute or so with a detailing of how white males tend to be less easily offended than other categories of human beings. Upon realizing she couldn’t intimidate or embarrass me in to being silent, she simply said, “Ok.”

It’s insightful, however, for people in my position, who are not intimidated by radicals who expect dissenters to bend before them, to actually challenge the orthodoxy they espouse. They don’t try to encourage debate. They have no sense of humor. They have two-dimensional vision. It consists of saying “This is politically correct, and that isn’t; this conforms to my opinion, and that doesn’t.” If they don’t like your opinion, they will not debate you. They will simply try to intimidate you into being silent.
For the next class, the instructor plans on looking at “the Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci” and how he relates to rap music. “Wait,” you may think, “wasn’t he a founding member of the Italian Communist Party?” To which the answer would indubitably be, of course, yes. He founded the L'Ordine Nuovo faction, which received Lenin’s backing. Gramsci once boasted in an issue of his organization’s newspaper: “At the Second World Congress, comrade Lenin said that the Ordine Nuovo group was the only tendency of the Socialist Party which faithfully represented the International in Italy.” It’s great that Gramsci’s words of wisdom are still being inscribed on the minds of America’s children today.

Sadly, a vast majority of the students who take classes such as this one don’t understand the process taking place. They certainly are not prepared to combat the manipulation these classes are meant to facilitate.

Thus far, I have attended only one full class session. I can only imagine what else I will witness over the course of the next three months. As I find time, if you are interested, I can continue to relay it. Until then, the battle will continue, much to my indoctrinator’s consternation. Note: Some time after the completion of this article, I also found the instructor had published a book, titled, “Mommy Queerest: Contemporary Rhetorics of Lesbian Maternal Identity” (U of Massachusetts Press, 2002). Go figure.