Orual
04-08-2007, 01:42 PM
Hello everyone. This is a satire I wrote a while back. Humor has never been my forte, so I'd like suggestions and criticism, if anyone is willing. Thanks for reading. :)
No Offense
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a young man decided he wanted to say something. For simplicity’s sake, I shall refer to this young man as “John,” though this particular John’s tale is by no means indicative of any other John’s character. Now John wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure if he should, so he sought the advice of the powers-that-be. As John’s land (far, far away though it was) allowed such things as free speech, the powers-that-be told John to go ahead and state his piece; he needn’t ask permission and should stop being so wishy-washy
This made John very nervous, for what he had to say wasn’t exactly polite. In fact, what John had to say was down-right rude. In fact, it probably didn’t need to be said at all. John was a proud individual, though, and with every day that he held his silence, the more he wanted to say it. Soon, people became curious as to what he had to say, or they at least wanted to know why he always cut himself off mid-sentence. Because of the widespread interest, the powers-that-be set up a podium in a public place and told John that he would say the something that so desperately needed to be said at exactly nine-twenty on Friday morning.
John was truly frightened now, for while his pride demanded that he say the offensive thing that didn’t really need to be said, reason told him that he would be disliked for saying the offensive thing, especially since so many people would hear him. For six days and six nights, John wrestled with his unpleasant situation. On the seventh day, John rose early in the morning. He washed his face, combed his hair, got his affairs in order, and went to the public place with the podium hoping that the people he addressed would take mercy on him and opt for hanging rather than stoning.
The crowd assembled and John took his place behind the lectern. A single bead of sweat dripped down his face. Someone handed him a towel and a glass of water. John accepted both shakily. He dribbled water down his chin and wetted his shirt. John set the glass down and tossed the towel to an anonymous bystander, who said something alone the lines of “ew.” Then, at long last, John cleared his throat. “No offense, but…”
And the world changed.
The news spread like wildfire. Someone had found it; someone had found a way to say offensive things without being offensive. Rude people everywhere rejoiced. “It’s not our fault,” they cried, joyously blowing cigarette smoke in each other’s faces. “Not that it ever was, but it’s not our fault!” Soon, every offensive phrase was qualified by the neat little saying that John had invented to cover up his own foolishness.
“No offense, but you smell of overripe Époisses,” said one rude woman, tittering madly. Understandably, the cow kicked her shin. The woman hobbled away bawling to the farmer, “That cow kicked me!”
“Why did it kick you?” asked the farmer.
“I don’t know! I told it not to take offense! I told it! You will hear from my lawyer!” The woman went off, bawling still. As it turned out, John was her lawyer, and he led the charge for his new phrase, though the woman lost her case after the jury took a whiff of the overripe Époisses and deemed that the cow had been too lenient.
The fervor for “no offense” grew. Politicians used it to cover their mudslinging; husbands used it to tell their wives that the dress did make them look fat. As John made television appearances, talked with politicians, and wrote heavily ghost-authored books with such titles as I Don’t Give an (Expletive) (Expletive,) the phrase continued to spread and evolve. By the time John had made his first million (“No Offense” t-shirts were all the rage), people had ceased to simply throw out “no offense” before an offensive statement, but some clever wordsmiths used it before inoffensive statements to denote their true meaning. “No offense, but you’re a girl,” led to one of the most vicious brawls in the history of this land’s senate. In retaliation to the offensive barrage, violence escalated.
And the phrase’s usage kept growing, and expanding, and growing some more. The threat of violence after an offensive statement led the words “no offense” to precede almost every sentence out of the common man’s mouth. “No offense, but today’s weather will be sunny, with a very slight possibility of severe thunderstorms from one to five in the afternoon” became the weatherman’s typical forecast. By the time John died (a rich old man with no fewer than thirty vacation homes), the world’s population had been reduced by half--a result of “no offence’s” violent, early days--and the number of people capable of saying what they mean came to zero.
And since no one could say what they meant anymore; since political correctness became law and objection became a reaction of the “close-minded;” since no one could be sincere, respect between human beings was shot, dead, and buried.
Though I’m sure respect meant no offense.
No Offense
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a young man decided he wanted to say something. For simplicity’s sake, I shall refer to this young man as “John,” though this particular John’s tale is by no means indicative of any other John’s character. Now John wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure if he should, so he sought the advice of the powers-that-be. As John’s land (far, far away though it was) allowed such things as free speech, the powers-that-be told John to go ahead and state his piece; he needn’t ask permission and should stop being so wishy-washy
This made John very nervous, for what he had to say wasn’t exactly polite. In fact, what John had to say was down-right rude. In fact, it probably didn’t need to be said at all. John was a proud individual, though, and with every day that he held his silence, the more he wanted to say it. Soon, people became curious as to what he had to say, or they at least wanted to know why he always cut himself off mid-sentence. Because of the widespread interest, the powers-that-be set up a podium in a public place and told John that he would say the something that so desperately needed to be said at exactly nine-twenty on Friday morning.
John was truly frightened now, for while his pride demanded that he say the offensive thing that didn’t really need to be said, reason told him that he would be disliked for saying the offensive thing, especially since so many people would hear him. For six days and six nights, John wrestled with his unpleasant situation. On the seventh day, John rose early in the morning. He washed his face, combed his hair, got his affairs in order, and went to the public place with the podium hoping that the people he addressed would take mercy on him and opt for hanging rather than stoning.
The crowd assembled and John took his place behind the lectern. A single bead of sweat dripped down his face. Someone handed him a towel and a glass of water. John accepted both shakily. He dribbled water down his chin and wetted his shirt. John set the glass down and tossed the towel to an anonymous bystander, who said something alone the lines of “ew.” Then, at long last, John cleared his throat. “No offense, but…”
And the world changed.
The news spread like wildfire. Someone had found it; someone had found a way to say offensive things without being offensive. Rude people everywhere rejoiced. “It’s not our fault,” they cried, joyously blowing cigarette smoke in each other’s faces. “Not that it ever was, but it’s not our fault!” Soon, every offensive phrase was qualified by the neat little saying that John had invented to cover up his own foolishness.
“No offense, but you smell of overripe Époisses,” said one rude woman, tittering madly. Understandably, the cow kicked her shin. The woman hobbled away bawling to the farmer, “That cow kicked me!”
“Why did it kick you?” asked the farmer.
“I don’t know! I told it not to take offense! I told it! You will hear from my lawyer!” The woman went off, bawling still. As it turned out, John was her lawyer, and he led the charge for his new phrase, though the woman lost her case after the jury took a whiff of the overripe Époisses and deemed that the cow had been too lenient.
The fervor for “no offense” grew. Politicians used it to cover their mudslinging; husbands used it to tell their wives that the dress did make them look fat. As John made television appearances, talked with politicians, and wrote heavily ghost-authored books with such titles as I Don’t Give an (Expletive) (Expletive,) the phrase continued to spread and evolve. By the time John had made his first million (“No Offense” t-shirts were all the rage), people had ceased to simply throw out “no offense” before an offensive statement, but some clever wordsmiths used it before inoffensive statements to denote their true meaning. “No offense, but you’re a girl,” led to one of the most vicious brawls in the history of this land’s senate. In retaliation to the offensive barrage, violence escalated.
And the phrase’s usage kept growing, and expanding, and growing some more. The threat of violence after an offensive statement led the words “no offense” to precede almost every sentence out of the common man’s mouth. “No offense, but today’s weather will be sunny, with a very slight possibility of severe thunderstorms from one to five in the afternoon” became the weatherman’s typical forecast. By the time John died (a rich old man with no fewer than thirty vacation homes), the world’s population had been reduced by half--a result of “no offence’s” violent, early days--and the number of people capable of saying what they mean came to zero.
And since no one could say what they meant anymore; since political correctness became law and objection became a reaction of the “close-minded;” since no one could be sincere, respect between human beings was shot, dead, and buried.
Though I’m sure respect meant no offense.