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Cunningham: Just tear, rip and submerge
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Cunningham: Just tear, rip and submerge

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Tear down those statues? Rip words from our vocabulary? Submerge distressing symbols in abandoned sewers?

Heck, yes, I’m all for the cancel culture.

Now you may choose to disagree here and that’s your right, but really, do you want to remember EVERYTHING? And by that I mean evvvv...ery...thing in your past?

Of course, I can’t speak for you, however, I will make a valiant attempt anyway. How did it go when you asked out your first date, guys? How many times did you practice what you were going to say...and yet you stumbled and blurted! Hmmm. Yeah. Maybe forget that one?

And gals, how did you respond when you “settled” for the first guy who asked you to prom only to accept a later offer from your prime target. What excuse did you create?

Bad. Bad. Stupid. Bad. Memory.

But, hey! No worries. Cancel culture is here for you. Just tear, rip and submerge.

Or this one?

“You know officer, I think this car has oversize tires...on the back...or front...or the passenger back left and driver front right...oh, I don’t know but, anyway that’s why I was 13 over. Seriously. Didn’t know I was going...I speedometer said...” Then that long pause while the lawman pursed his lips.

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Weak. Weak. So very weak.

See, the cancel culture is not new. Been around quite a while actually. It’s just recently made its way back.

While my recollection fades in and out nowadays, I seem to recall a list of naughty words I was informed by my mother, father and Sister Rayneria I was never to utter. By middle school, I heard those words frequently. Loudly in the locker room. Softly in the hallways. Talking about my buddies, here. I, of course, remained pure of speech, intent and heart.

(See how that cancel culture thing can work for ya? Pretending is so cool.)

From history’s perspective, I can see preserving every important artifact. General Lee has a story to tell; so does Grant. Manuscripts need interpretation. If we look carefully, even a rock carries a message and let’s face it, a rock is hard to cancel.

Sure, Hitler has a place in history but I really don’t want my grandson to attend Hitler and His Mustache Middle School.

Context is so important.

Would you, if you could, erase your recollection of the time you convinced your Dad you needed the car so you could attend a special weight training session? “Hey, Dad, Coach invited only those on the team who might get a D1 scholarship!”

Later, because the old man neighbor who lives a block over told your father he saw the family car doing 60 around Right Angle Curve, you had to...oh, man...cancel culture...don’t leave me now.

And big pharma wants to HELP us old-timers to remember? Sheesh. *shakes head*

Don Cunningham of Fremont is a freelance columnist.

Don Cunningham of Fremont is a freelance columnist.


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