They are not even widely accepted.
Remember the old time radio programs?
Life With Luigi: Luigi was an Italian immigrant and his life was intertwined with Pasquale, who had assisted in providing passage for him to this country. Pasquale was an entrepreneur interested primarily in enriching himself, and was always scheming about how to take Luigi to the cleaners. He would approach Luigi with "Luigi, my friend," and everyone knew that Luigi was in for it. The story always came to a conclusion with Luigi escaping Pasquale's clutches by some miracle, or by Pasquale getting what was coming to him. It made you feel good for the villain to be outsmarted by the simple folks with a little help from karma. We need a lot more of that today.Bob and Ray: They always signed off their program with "Write if you get work, or hang by your thumbs." Hmm. Not much of a choice there, but it aired during and after the Depression, when options (good or bad) were pretty scarce, and all options seemed reasonable.
Ring! Ring! Ring! "Hello, Duffy's Tavern, where the elite meet to eat, Archie the manager speaking, Duffy ain't here." Duffy was never there, but a parade of neighborhood characters were, including but not limited to Digger O'Dell, the friendly undertaker...
Then there was Yukon King, the dog, who had to console himself that without Sergeant Preston, the show wouldn't have been so successful. Dogs are like that. They do the work, and others get the credit. Not fair, but "dese are de conditions which prevail(ed)" (Jimmy Durante).
Amos and Andy: This show was considered racist, but I could never understand why. I guess a simple peasant girl can't be expected to understand everything. Stephen Fetchet played a laid back Black and made a good living at it in the early movies, but the part was scrapped as a poor character example. As if someone like William Warfield could be mistaken for a lazy, needed-to-be-prodded person of color. He was acting, not running for Congress. Yet today, vampires, monsters, scoundrels, floozies, and bankers are considered heroes. The bad guys were identifiable in Amos and Andy's day, while it seems bad guys are those in a position of trust today. No doubt this is progress.
Speaking of racist, when the Daughters of the American Revolution prohibited Marian Anderson from singing in Independence Hall, I promptly resigned my membership and told them why. I never did receive a response back from them, and I never did reinstate my membership.
Let's talk about women's styles. I've noticed that everyday housewives are aping the TV and movie stars. In the boob department, little is left to the imagination. No longer are we restricted to cleavage confrontation, we are seeing the east and west side of two slim hangy-downs. Both of them. All of them as a matter of fact. No man's land to the north has been available for a long time, but I never expected the image to widen that far. The only modesty still available is reserved for nipples, those end providers of preferred sustenance for new children, I suppose spared from public view because of their practical purpose(s). I applaud such visual reticence on the part of designers. How long do you think it will last?
I don't mind lusty, under the proper circumstances (candles, dinner, soft music). But in the grocery store? Please. Go home. Get some clothes on. Spare me. I am aware of how you are built and I don't need to see it displayed or even deployed next to the artichokes. (I am not talking about actually nursing a baby, get off your high horse.) But one can't help but wonder and be in awe of a sudden turn to starboard and having things fly into space, knocking down nearby pedestrians, and leaving the occupant-owner to scramble to retrieve 'em. Now that might be fun to watch.
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