Here's a random thing I keep meaning to mention:
Last weekend I had to fly out of town, and I was reading this article in an in-flight magazine. The article is about the Cyclone, the legend roller coaster at Coney Island. Here's what one rider says about the Cyclone:
“It is a roaring, churning, dropping, body-freezing, politically incorrect, this-can’t-be-happening horror."
What is the point of "politically correct" in that sentence?
Look, I know the answer. To this guy, and to a lot of other people, lefties are anti-fun. We're buzzkill. We're thou-shalt-not. To this guy, that notion has detached itself from politics and has taken on a life of its own -- on some level, this guy thinks anything that restrains you is political correctness.
And meanwhile, we're the ones who say, "You want to marry someone of your own gender? Go for it! Put elephant dung on a painting of the Virgin Mary and hang it in a museum? Hey, I'm there!" But we have still have the spoilsport rep, not Rick Santorum. It sucks.