The Death Of Freedom by Jerry Grosh
    A bone chilling wind blew through the courtyard, slapping the man hard in the face. He stood high atop the gallows, looking down on the angry crowd. He couldn't understand how the people had so vehemently turned against him. There had been a time when he was loved and cherished by all, but that was a long time ago. People had fought and died for what he represented, and now it was all for naught. 
    He blocked the jeering of the crowd from his mind and thought back on a simpler time. A time when a person could say what they meant and meant what they said. A time when you could voice your opinion without fear of persecution or prosecution. A time when everything made sense, and when someone said something you knew exactly what they were talking about. 
    His mind drifted back over the decades, and he remembered the little things. He thought back on the times when a baker was a baker, and a teacher was a teacher, and a writer was a writer. A time when your job described what you did for a living. If you were a baker, then you baked. If you were a teacher, then you taught. If you were a writer, then you wrote. Life had been simple then. Simple, precise, and to the point.
    He remembered the beginning of the end. The time when a stranger entered the land under the cover of night. At first the stranger stayed in the shadows, sticking his neck out just long enough to fill the ears of the easily persuaded with his dogmatism. Eventually he got bolder as his popularity grew, coming out into the light more and more. Soon whole groups of people were believing his mixed jargon and trying to force it upon others who would just as soon leave well enough alone.
    The onslaught was relentless, and soon many tired of the bombardment, choosing to conform rather than endure his tireless attack. Still he wasn't satisfied. He ran rampant throughout the land, forcing his doctrine on whomever crossed his path. Confusion followed his every step. The good life that everyone once knew and were accustomed to became tedious and mystifying. Suddenly it seemed that everything you were once sure of, was wrong.
    Before long the stranger's name was ringing from every tongue in the land. Political Correctness they called him, a sympathizer of the people. No more would people be offended by the cold, harsh words of others. No longer would people feel like they had less worth because of their titles. We were entering a new age in which everyone would be treated equally and fairly. 
    Under the guise of sensitivity, volumes of new words were created to further confuse the population. Weapons of war and mass destruction were now known as peace keepers, and something as simple as an old folks home now would be called a home for the aged, so as not to offend the people of age. 
    In this new era women would not have to feel like they wee second to men. Women had branched out into all areas of the working world. They did the same jobs as men, and therefore commanded the same respect. No longer would a salesman be called a salesman or a repairman be called a repairman, but rather a salesperson and a repairperson. Also the human race, or mankind as it was known should now be called personkind.
    The race of man that we had belonged to for so long was now the race of persons, and it was taboo to mention the color of our skin. We couldn't simply distinguish between two people of different colors by color, but by the origin of whatever country they thought their ancestors might have come from. Dwarfs and midgets became little people, but soon that wasn't good enough. It seemed that now they were offended by the word little, so they became vertically challenged people. Deaf people became hearing impaired. Cripples became handicapped, but not for long. They quickly evolved to physically challenged.
    It seemed like overnight the population of the land had been reduced to a sniveling, over sensitive collection of crybabies, who could be offended by the slightest things, and because they were so terribly offended, they were given the right to sue the pants off of anyone who might offend them. And sue they did. The courtrooms were filled with cases brought on by the most trivial of reasons. For instance... "You've offended me by what you said." "No I didn't, you're defaming my character." "I am not, I think you're slandering me." "Now you've injured my inner child."
    And so it went, and the man watched, horrified, as the world turned to chaos. Had we progressed so far as a society that we were now in possission of such things as person hole covers? He could be quiet no more. He spoke out publicly, as had always been his right, and expressed his findings to the masses, but the people would have none of it. Instead they revolted against him, rising up in unison to convict and condemn him for his callous opinions. They sentenced him to death, stating that it is far better that one man die than scores of others suffer his insensitivities. 
    He stood alone atop the gallows. The platform gave way and his life expired at the end of the rope. His name had been Freedom Of Speech. No last words were permitted.