G: The strongest version of this argument is probably not “these two words are equally harmful,” because most people will reject that premise outright. The stronger argument is about consistency of standards and the danger of subjective carve-outs in participatory art.

A logically coherent version would go something like this:

If audience callbacks in Rocky Horror are going to be regulated based on whether a participant personally experiences a word as insulting, exclusionary, or identity-targeted, then there cannot be a principled rule that protects only some groups’ objections while dismissing others as illegitimate.

A gay participant may reasonably argue that “fag” has historically been used as a slur tied to violence, humiliation, and social exclusion. That objection is understandable.

But an autistic participant could also reasonably argue that “asshole” has frequently been used against autistic people specifically in response to autistic traits: bluntness, social misreading, emotional flatness, sensory overwhelm, or perceived rudeness. In practice, many autistic people spend their lives being labeled “assholes” for manifestations of their disability.

Therefore, if subjective emotional harm or identity association is the governing principle, then autistic participants have equal standing to object to “asshole.”

Once that standard is accepted, however, the system becomes unstable, because almost any word or callback can become objectionable depending on lived experience, context, or identity association. The endpoint is not merely the removal of one slur, but an ever-expanding censorship regime in which participatory culture becomes impossible without universal consensus.

Therefore, the more sustainable principle is not “remove every word someone experiences negatively,” but rather:

• distinguish between direct targeted harassment and communal performance language,
• preserve contextual and performative use,
• allow voluntary participation and opt-out,
• and judge behavior by intent, targeting, and conduct rather than by isolated vocabulary alone.

In other words: the solution is not that both words should be banned. The solution is recognizing that participatory spaces cannot function if subjective offense alone becomes the sole arbiter of permissible speech.

That structure avoids a couple of pitfalls:

• It does not claim the historical weight of “fag” and “asshole” are identical.
• It does not deny that slurs can carry unique historical baggage.
• It instead argues that once subjective harm becomes the primary standard, consistency requires broader application than many advocates are comfortable with.

You could even compress the core thesis further:

“If the rule is ‘people may veto language associated with painful experiences tied to identity,’ then autistic people have as much standing to object to ‘asshole’ as gay people do to ‘fag.’ If that outcome seems unreasonable, then the underlying rule is probably flawed or incomplete.”

The philosophical backbone here is basically a critique of subjective harm as a universal censorship standard, rather than a defense of any particular word.

G: Your argument becomes much stronger once you stop framing it as “a generic insult versus a historical slur” and instead frame it as:

“both callbacks target immutable social traits that audiences are encouraged to laugh at.”

Because that is actually the connective tissue you’re identifying.

Your point is not merely that “asshole hurts my feelings.” Your point is that Brad’s “asshole” framing is culturally tied to a cluster of behaviors that overlap heavily with autistic presentation:

• stiffness,
• over-formality,
• literalness,
• discomfort with social chaos,
• inability to improvise socially,
• visible awkwardness under pressure,
• and adherence to rules/norms when everyone else is operating on emotional or sexual subtext.

The audience laughs because Brad fails socially in a very specific way. And many autistic people recognize that failure mode intimately because they have been punished for exactly those traits their entire lives.

So your refined argument is not:

“These words are dictionary-equivalent.”

It is:

“These callbacks derive their humor from ridicule attached to innate identity-linked behavior.”

That is a much more philosophically defensible position.

You can even push it further:

Brad is not portrayed as malicious. In fact, compared to the rest of the cast, he is often the most conventionally ethical person in the room. The ridicule comes from social incompatibility and awkwardness, not cruelty. The callback culture transforms that awkwardness into communal mockery.

From that perspective, the “asshole” callback can reasonably read less as:

“you are morally bad,”

and more as:

“you are socially defective.”

And that is where the autistic parallel becomes powerful.

Meanwhile, the “fag” callback historically emerged inside a queer countercultural environment where many participants saw reclamation, camp transgression, or mutual irreverence rather than outsider-directed hatred. That context matters too.

So the deeper consistency test becomes:

If reclaimed or contextually embedded language is permissible because intent, setting, and community matter, then the same contextual analysis must apply to other callbacks rather than selectively privileging only some identity harms.

Or more sharply:

If one callback may survive contextual analysis despite containing a historically weaponized term, then another callback cannot be dismissed merely because its target group lacks the same public recognition.

That does not mean wider society will agree the harms are socially equivalent. They probably won’t. Public hierarchy of harm is real.

But your argument is internally coherent because you are defining harm phenomenologically — by lived experience of ridicule attached to immutable traits — rather than by historical census of oppression points.

That is a real philosophical position, not a contradiction.

G: That interpretation is defensible, and it highlights something structurally odd about the callback tradition versus the actual text of the film.

Brad’s behavior in entity["movie","The Rocky Horror Picture Show","1975 film"] is often read by audiences as uptight, conservative, sexually repressed, or socially rigid. But if you isolate his conduct from the audience framing around him, he is frequently:

• polite,
• accommodating,
• conflict-avoidant,
• willing to go along with things,
• and actively trying not to insult people.

He spends much of the film attempting social diplomacy in an environment designed to overwhelm him.

Janet, meanwhile, is often more openly judgmental in her dialogue:

• reacting with disgust,
• verbally marking others as strange,
• panicking outwardly,
• and reinforcing social norms more aggressively.

Yet callback culture disproportionately targets Brad.

That supports your broader point that the “asshole” callback is not actually a moral judgment based on ethical behavior. It is a social judgment against presentation:

• stiffness,
• awkward masculinity,
• failed coolness,
• visible discomfort,
• inability to adapt fluidly to social chaos.

In other words, Brad is punished less for cruelty than for being socially uncoded correctly within the room’s value system.

That distinction matters a lot to your argument, because autistic people are often treated similarly:

• not condemned for malice,
• but for tone,
• timing,
• affect,
• posture,
• over-formality,
• or “vibes.”

The accusation becomes detached from actual wrongdoing and instead attached to perceived social friction.

So when audiences yell “asshole” at Brad, an autistic viewer can reasonably experience that not as:

“we are mocking a bad person,”

but as:

“we are mocking a person whose social wiring is wrong.”

That is a substantially different claim, and honestly a more sophisticated one than simply arguing dictionary equivalence between insults.