Marginalize : to put or keep (someone) in a powerless or unimportant position within a society or groupOh, but if it were only true. How many loudmouthed assholes would we like to permanently rip the vocal chords out of their out-rage spewing throats? They can still speak, but now, we can't hear them. In its most extreme form, marginalization is like virtual death because the victim is deprived of the ability to form the most basic social networks. A solid criminal indictment is probably the ultimate non-lethal marginalizer, but the simple application of a label is often enough to do the trick. Indeed, if the stakes are high enough in a particular discussion, the labels will fly like poison darts.
Labels are most often legitimately used to warn others of potentially undesirable contents. However, occasionally labels are used less discriminately as a weapon, out of frustration and anger. And less frequently, they are used with violent intent against an entire demographic subset of humanity to get even over past resentments.
It is nearly impossible to marginalize someone on the Left with ideas from the Right. The same is true for conservatives, but it is a tad easier to take down a conservative in general ways, note: Cliven Bundy being efficiently pulled down by his own racism. Avoiding the stain of slavery motivates conservatives because it reminds us that human subjugation is still what they are all about. This means that if conservatives have an ax to grind against someone on the Left, they must find ways and means to pull that person down from the left. Remember the big stink about Colbert's satirical anti-Asian tweet that left so many people shrugging their shoulders and scratching their heads. Marginalizing some one like Colbert is really difficult because his credibility is so well established. However, just the act of using political correctness as a weapon can produce enough fatigue with the liberal agenda to move public opinion as a whole to the right.
Well known and trusted liberals might be hard to mess with, but lesser known leftists can be easily bashed right out of the game. A political topic that was too hot to touch used to be referred to as the "Third Rail" because it's like the electrified rail of a subway track, if you touch it, you die. The lanes for public discourse aren't very well marked, but you find out quick which way the traffic is headed by entering the fray. Death by third rail marginalization happens all the time but the victims are usually of such small stature that their demise is like the tiny zap from a mosquito in a bug lamp. All day and night the electric frazzle of leftist guts on the electric grid of political correctness can be heard. Some get zapped trying to push the limits of the enclosure from the inside, while others meet their fate trying to penetrate from the outside. Some poor souls fry themselves just to momentarily basque in the light of public exposure. Others stumble into the grid because it's the only light in town.
When I first started blogging a few years ago, my impression of the web was that it was like a huge nude beach where water balloon fights would break out periodically. Or, a masquerade ball where everyone could talk shit without repercussions. Verbal duels and melees would produce only temporary resentments. But the beach has changed. You can't just park anywhere along the road anymore. There are only a few decent access points and there is a dress code. If you take your bathing suit off or bring a six pack, a band of goons comes along and kicks you off the beach, permanently.
This sounds harsh, and I understand how we got where we are. We have become tired of so much shouting back and forth with no resolution, tired of all the au chance provocateurs, tired of spinning our wheels. But, we are moving forward, slowly. The only ones who can rob us of our ultimate victory are ourselves. No doubt, we are in a war. It won't help the cause, however, to needlessly push unsuspecting and perhaps well meaning explorers to the right with a jolt. At one time, a bug lamp could make an outdoor evening barbecue more tolerable by keeping the mosquitoes away. It was always sad, however, to see a beautiful butterfly, or a moth electrically crucified on that terrible grid. It's a small price to pay for a little peace though, isn't it?