These days the grievance industry is churning forth protestations of offence taken at every manufactured opportunity. It is social narcissism on steroids. Precious-petal-me, at the centre of the universe, must have one's precious stamens duly protected, preserved, and nurtured.
Buttressing this absurd pre-occupation with self is a panoply of johnny-come-lately-invented demand rights--which can be characterised as an egocentric state of mind believing that everyone else has an obligation to serve moi.
This mindset gives succour to tyrants and dictators in societies which would tolerate them. In our more egalitarian, democratic cultures the best that can be mustered is a high pitched whining, punctuated by brief outbursts of tempestuous rage, interspersed with melodramatic foot stomping.
Winston Churchill describes how narcissistic political correctness was dealt with in his day:
And that, we suggest, is how one deals appropriately with demand rights and the narcissistic political correctness which arises from them.
After the departure of our American friends I had arranged a meeting with Ibn Saud, [who] . . . travelled with all the splendour of an Eastern potentate, with an entourage of some fifty persons, including two sons, his Prime Minister, his Astrologer, and flocks of sheep to be killed according to Moslem rites. On February 17 (1945) his reception was organised at the Hotel du Lac at Fayoum oasis, from which we had temporarily removed all the residents. A number of social problems arose.
I had been told that neither smoking nor alcoholic beverages were allowed in the Royal Presence. As I was the host at the luncheon I raised the matter at once and said to the interpreter that if it ws the religion of His Majesty to deprive himself of smoking and alcohol, I must point out that my rule of life prescribed as an absolutely sacred rite smoking cigars and also the drinking of alcohol before, after, and if need be during all meals and in the intervals between them. The King graciously accepted the position. His own cup-bearer from Mecca offered me a glass of water from its sacred well, the most delicious I had ever tasted. [Winston Churchill, The Second World War. (London: The Reprint Society, 1954). Vol. VI: Triumph and Tragedy, p. 413.]
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