If you think it's bad in NH, you should live in TX like me where the content of textbooks is determined for the whole country. And things that I consider to be important US history and US priorities and beliefs have been totally erased from the books. Gotta work overtime to teach my daughter what she should learn at school. Originally Posted by charlestudor2005I respect you right as a parent to educate your daughter, but it scares the hell of of me to think what material you are teaching her....
- atlcomedy
- 01-05-2011, 03:08 PM
- charlestudor2005
- 01-05-2011, 03:16 PM
- DFW5Traveler
- 01-05-2011, 03:23 PM
I respect you right as a parent to educate your daughter, but it scares the hell of of me to think what material you are teaching her.... Originally Posted by atlcomedyI tend to agree...
Political correctness, in a sense, is censorship. Hold out your flaws and learn from your mistakes. Hiding mistakes only prolongs it's life into the future.
There is a reason there is an amendment for prohibition ( 18 ) and another repealing prohibition ( 21 ). They didn't just wipe it ( 18 ) from the record, they wanted to give us a glaring example of what didn't work. The same works for our history and why it needs to be painfully honest.
- pjorourke
- 01-05-2011, 03:39 PM
- discreetgent
- 01-05-2011, 04:06 PM
Wow, seems like total agreement on this one.
- charlestudor2005
- 01-05-2011, 04:10 PM
I'm curious, what factoids have been totally erased from your daughter's books? Originally Posted by pjorourkehttp://www.washingtonmonthly.com/fea...001.blake.html
http://terrehaute.community.tribstar...64774&d=512560
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn...031700560.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8693397.stm
http://forums.military.com/eve/forum.../4710098642001 (For DFW5)
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/wo...y-1929320.html
Just to list a few...
- Guest082824
- 01-05-2011, 04:31 PM
"Those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it"...
Although I agree with most on this thread, ECCIE does not allow any derogatory racial remarks
#2 - Derogatory racial remarks are simply unacceptable, period. Disrespect another's ethnic background and you will most certainly regret it.
Although I agree with most on this thread, ECCIE does not allow any derogatory racial remarks
#2 - Derogatory racial remarks are simply unacceptable, period. Disrespect another's ethnic background and you will most certainly regret it.
- charlestudor2005
- 01-05-2011, 04:43 PM
"Those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it"...I guess that means neither book will be posted here.
Although I agree with most on this thread, ECCIE does not allow any derogatory racial remarks
#2 - Derogatory racial remarks are simply unacceptable, period. Disrespect another's ethnic background and you will most certainly regret it. Originally Posted by DickEmDown
- Iaintliein
- 01-05-2011, 04:58 PM
Words are intangible abstractions. They have force but no weight, not because of what they are but because of what they represent. Some words like the one "who's name we do not speak" have come to represent something inherently evil in the mind of right thinking people. But in the end it's just a word. And anyone, of any color or background over the age of 10 has been called worse unless they grew up in an acrylic bubble.
The problem is that if you hide the word, you obscure what it represents. Other words are intentionally misused almost daily for the sake of political correctness and or political expediency. Most discussions on political forums ultimately devolve into arguments about semantics because people think the words are what matter instead of what they represent.
Over sensitivity has only one result, irritation!
Just my opinion, of course.
The problem is that if you hide the word, you obscure what it represents. Other words are intentionally misused almost daily for the sake of political correctness and or political expediency. Most discussions on political forums ultimately devolve into arguments about semantics because people think the words are what matter instead of what they represent.
Over sensitivity has only one result, irritation!
Just my opinion, of course.
- atlcomedy
- 01-05-2011, 05:29 PM
"Those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it"...DED, don't you have enough to supermoderate in Houston???
Although I agree with most on this thread, ECCIE does not allow any derogatory racial remarks
#2 - Derogatory racial remarks are simply unacceptable, period. Disrespect another's ethnic background and you will most certainly regret it. Originally Posted by DickEmDown
I think we've had a pretty civil discussion on an article that was published in the NY Times....
Oh, and for those up us not up to date on what all the current "derogatory racial remarks" are, could you publish a list we could refer to and their politcally correct substitutes?
- Guest082824
- 01-05-2011, 05:50 PM
DED, don't you have enough to supermoderate in Houston??? Originally Posted by atlcomedyTrust me...I do. I was made aware of this thread via PM from a "couple" of members. Oh yeah, I'm not limited to post only in Houston
I think we've had a pretty civil discussion on an article that was published in the NY Times.... Originally Posted by atlcomedyYou have and I suggest you continue with it...
Oh, and for those up us not up to date on what all the current "derogatory racial remarks" are, could you publish a list we could refer to and their politcally correct substitutes? Originally Posted by atlcomedyI don't have a list but the word I edited out is still considered derogatory to some African American people no matter how many times we hear it on the radio, TV, from our kids etc....
- discreetgent
- 01-05-2011, 05:53 PM
At the risk of getting points.
DED that is absolute bullshit in the context of this discussion. Hiding the word simply highlights it. Hey, do you have a word in this post you can now censor?
DED that is absolute bullshit in the context of this discussion. Hiding the word simply highlights it. Hey, do you have a word in this post you can now censor?
- atlcomedy
- 01-05-2011, 05:59 PM
Trust me...I do. I was made aware of this thread via PM from a "couple" of members. Oh yeah, I'm not limited to post only in HoustonIn another thread an hour or so ago another member referred to "people of color" as "black" -- I have been told by some that is derogatory....are you going to take it upon yourself to edit that as well?...as is "African American"...particularly to those that don't decend from Africa...
You have and I suggest you continue with it...
I don't have a list but the word I edited out is still considered derogatory to some African American people no matter how many times we hear it on the radio, TV, from our kids etc....
So I'll ask again for a list...what is unacceptable these days and what is the appropriate substitute...
- Guest082824
- 01-05-2011, 06:01 PM
This forum is awesome, I need to visit more. WTF, why didn't you tell me about it??? 
Carry on gents....I'm out
Edited: Personally, I consider myself "Black"...I was just using the Politically Correct term, funny huh?
Carry on gents....I'm out
Edited: Personally, I consider myself "Black"...I was just using the Politically Correct term, funny huh?
- discreetgent
- 01-05-2011, 06:09 PM
Talk about a cop out.
Chapter 1 of Huck Finn for your enjoyment.
CHAPTER I.
YOU don't know about me without you have read a
book by the name of The Adventures of Tom
Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was
made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth,
mainly. There was things which he stretched, but
mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never
seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it
was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt
Polly -- Tom's Aunt Polly, she is -- and Mary, and
the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book,
which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as
I said before.
Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom
and me found the money that the robbers hid in the
cave, and it made us rich. We got six thousand dollars
apiece -- all gold. It was an awful sight of money
when it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took
it and put it out at interest, and it fetched us a dollar
a day apiece all the year round -- more than a body
could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she
took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize
me; but it was rough living in the house all the time,
considering how dismal regular and decent the widow
was in all her ways; and so when I couldn't stand it
no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my
sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied. But
Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going
to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would
go back to the widow and be respectable. So I went
back.
The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor
lost lamb, and she called me a lot of other names,
too, but she never meant no harm by it. She put me
in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing
but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well,
then, the old thing commenced again. The widow
rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time.
When you got to the table you couldn't go right to
eating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck
down her head and grumble a little over the victuals,
though there warn't really anything the matter with
them, -- that is, nothing only everything was cooked
by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different;
things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps
around, and the things go better.
After supper she got out her book and learned me
about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat
to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out
that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so
then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't
take no stock in dead people.
Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow
to let me. But she wouldn't. She said it was a mean
practice and wasn't clean, and I must try to not do it
any more. That is just the way with some people.
They get down on a thing when they don't know
nothing about it. Here she was a-bothering about
Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to any-
body, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of
fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in
it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all
right, because she done it herself.
Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid,
with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and
took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She
worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then
the widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it
much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull,
and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, "Don't
put your feet up there, Huckleberry;" and "Don't
scrunch up like that, Huckleberry -- set up straight;"
and pretty soon she would say, "Don't gap and stretch
like that, Huckleberry -- why don't you try to be-
have?" Then she told me all about the bad place,
and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then,
but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted was to go
somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn't
particular. She said it was wicked to say what I said;
said she wouldn't say it for the whole world; she was
going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I
couldn't see no advantage in going where she was
going, so I made up my mind I wouldn't try for it.
But I never said so, because it would only make
trouble, and wouldn't do no good.
Now she had got a start, and she went on and told
me all about the good place. She said all a body
would have to do there was to go around all day long
with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn't
think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if
she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she
said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about
that, because I wanted him and me to be together.
Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got
tiresome and lonesome. By and by they fetched the
niggers in and had prayers, and then everybody was
off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of
candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a
chair by the window and tried to think of something
cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt so lonesome I
most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and
the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and
I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about some-
body that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog cry-
ing about somebody that was going to die; and the
wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I
couldn't make out what it was, and so it made the cold
shivers run over me. Then away out in the woods I
heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it
wants to tell about something that's on its mind and
can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in
its grave, and has to go about that way every night
grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish
I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went
crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit
in the candle; and before I could budge it was all
shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that
that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some
bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes
off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks
three times and crossed my breast every time; and
then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to
keep witches away. But I hadn't no confidence.
You do that when you've lost a horseshoe that you've
found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I
hadn't ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep
off bad luck when you'd killed a spider.
I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my
pipe for a smoke; for the house was all as still as
death now, and so the widow wouldn't know. Well,
after a long time I heard the clock away off in the
town go boom -- boom -- boom -- twelve licks; and
all still again -- stiller than ever. Pretty soon I heard
a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees --
something was a stirring. I set still and listened.
Directly I could just barely hear a "me-yow! me-
yow!" down there. That was good! Says I, "me-
yow! me-yow!" as soft as I could, and then I put
out the light and scrambled out of the window on to
the shed. Then I slipped down to the ground and
crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there
was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.
Chapter 1 of Huck Finn for your enjoyment.
CHAPTER I.
YOU don't know about me without you have read a
book by the name of The Adventures of Tom
Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was
made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth,
mainly. There was things which he stretched, but
mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never
seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it
was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt
Polly -- Tom's Aunt Polly, she is -- and Mary, and
the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book,
which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as
I said before.
Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom
and me found the money that the robbers hid in the
cave, and it made us rich. We got six thousand dollars
apiece -- all gold. It was an awful sight of money
when it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took
it and put it out at interest, and it fetched us a dollar
a day apiece all the year round -- more than a body
could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she
took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize
me; but it was rough living in the house all the time,
considering how dismal regular and decent the widow
was in all her ways; and so when I couldn't stand it
no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my
sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied. But
Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going
to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would
go back to the widow and be respectable. So I went
back.
The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor
lost lamb, and she called me a lot of other names,
too, but she never meant no harm by it. She put me
in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing
but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well,
then, the old thing commenced again. The widow
rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time.
When you got to the table you couldn't go right to
eating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck
down her head and grumble a little over the victuals,
though there warn't really anything the matter with
them, -- that is, nothing only everything was cooked
by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different;
things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps
around, and the things go better.
After supper she got out her book and learned me
about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat
to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out
that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so
then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't
take no stock in dead people.
Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow
to let me. But she wouldn't. She said it was a mean
practice and wasn't clean, and I must try to not do it
any more. That is just the way with some people.
They get down on a thing when they don't know
nothing about it. Here she was a-bothering about
Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to any-
body, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of
fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in
it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all
right, because she done it herself.
Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid,
with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and
took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She
worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then
the widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it
much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull,
and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, "Don't
put your feet up there, Huckleberry;" and "Don't
scrunch up like that, Huckleberry -- set up straight;"
and pretty soon she would say, "Don't gap and stretch
like that, Huckleberry -- why don't you try to be-
have?" Then she told me all about the bad place,
and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then,
but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted was to go
somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn't
particular. She said it was wicked to say what I said;
said she wouldn't say it for the whole world; she was
going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I
couldn't see no advantage in going where she was
going, so I made up my mind I wouldn't try for it.
But I never said so, because it would only make
trouble, and wouldn't do no good.
Now she had got a start, and she went on and told
me all about the good place. She said all a body
would have to do there was to go around all day long
with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn't
think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if
she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she
said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about
that, because I wanted him and me to be together.
Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got
tiresome and lonesome. By and by they fetched the
niggers in and had prayers, and then everybody was
off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of
candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a
chair by the window and tried to think of something
cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt so lonesome I
most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and
the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and
I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about some-
body that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog cry-
ing about somebody that was going to die; and the
wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I
couldn't make out what it was, and so it made the cold
shivers run over me. Then away out in the woods I
heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it
wants to tell about something that's on its mind and
can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in
its grave, and has to go about that way every night
grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish
I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went
crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit
in the candle; and before I could budge it was all
shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that
that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some
bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes
off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks
three times and crossed my breast every time; and
then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to
keep witches away. But I hadn't no confidence.
You do that when you've lost a horseshoe that you've
found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I
hadn't ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep
off bad luck when you'd killed a spider.
I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my
pipe for a smoke; for the house was all as still as
death now, and so the widow wouldn't know. Well,
after a long time I heard the clock away off in the
town go boom -- boom -- boom -- twelve licks; and
all still again -- stiller than ever. Pretty soon I heard
a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees --
something was a stirring. I set still and listened.
Directly I could just barely hear a "me-yow! me-
yow!" down there. That was good! Says I, "me-
yow! me-yow!" as soft as I could, and then I put
out the light and scrambled out of the window on to
the shed. Then I slipped down to the ground and
crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there
was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.