Warning: Susie Rant Follows
In my corner of the universe, summer takes its time making itself known. We seem to have downpour after downpour, with a few sunny days spaced in between to placate us throughout May, then more rain during June. Then one day you wake up with frizzy hair, sweating like a mother because it's only a few days before the Fourth of July and summer has finally, FINALLY, arrived at the party.
Aside from ushering in heat that makes my hair uncontrollable, the Fourth of July always gives me some pause. In my family, we celebrate the birth of the nation like any good Americans—we eat. But do we forget about the meaning of the holiday? Of course not. Bratwurst symbolizes the influence of the Germans in Colonial America and their impact on the outcome of the Revolutionary War. French Fries remind us of that French Guy who helped George Washington whip the troops into shape during that hard winter at Valley Forge, when they were losing hope and wishing for something hot, salty and deep-fried. And let's not forget the Doritos, Fritos and Tostitos we gorge ourselves on, all to pay tribute to the great contributions of Colonial America's Spanish-American population.
All kidding aside, I can't help taking this Fourth of July a little more seriously than I have in the past. Two of my best friends now serve in the armed forces, and their dedication to the principles this country was founded on amaze me. They're wonderful, talented people with a sense of obligation and dedication that I admire. One will eventually head to Iraq, the other to Korea. They'll work hard to support the United States and protect the freedom that we've long enjoyed and often taken for granted. And I will be proud to call them my best friends.
But as they (eventually) head for foreign soil, I'm concerned about the situation here at home. Being a first-class wimp with no desire to ever fire an M-16 (even if I could name it "Bloody Mary"), my battles will be fought on domestic ground. The past few months have been disconcerting for someone like me, who uses my freedom with words to make a living. I rely on the First Amendment and trust that it will keep me safe when all other domestic enemies threaten to destroy me. Life might be scary after 9/11, but at least I can still write or speak my mind freely. Right?
Wrong. Just ask Howard Stern, who was booted off radio stations in six cities earlier this year for his "indecency." I think Howard's shows are awful, so I only listened a few times. But I had that choice. I could choose to listen or flip the dial. So I flipped. When the media conglomerate that owns most of radio in my town removed him, they took away our right to choose, our right to exert the basic freedom to make a decision. And they took away Howard's right to free speech. Just like that.
Howard's coming back though, and in the press conference to announce the return, someone asked him what he considered "indecent." His answer? People dumping chemicals into streams without being fined, people ruining our natural resources without any repercussions. And people, slowly but surely, limiting the rights guaranteed under the First Amendment.
Think about it for a minute. Think of all the things you just can't say anymore. Someone doesn't die—they "cease to breathe;" someone isn't short—they're vertically challenged. We sugarcoat our reality so people aren't offended or so we don't piss people off.
Sometimes the truth hurts, yes, so we use discretion to spare friends' feelings. And that's fine. But when we have to use someone else's words to describe an event or a person—just so we can keep them happy—then we step into scary territory that's left the First Amendment far behind. We enter a land where freedom of speech becomes more and more mythical and the liberties we enjoy become mere historical once-upon-a-times we remember every year with hot dogs, fireworks and ice cream.
Do I know what to do about it? No. But it's something to think about, isn't it? We need to spread freedom to countries controlled by tyranny, but as we do that, is tyranny creeping into our houses while we sleep to steal the unspoken words from our mouths?
Aside from ushering in heat that makes my hair uncontrollable, the Fourth of July always gives me some pause. In my family, we celebrate the birth of the nation like any good Americans—we eat. But do we forget about the meaning of the holiday? Of course not. Bratwurst symbolizes the influence of the Germans in Colonial America and their impact on the outcome of the Revolutionary War. French Fries remind us of that French Guy who helped George Washington whip the troops into shape during that hard winter at Valley Forge, when they were losing hope and wishing for something hot, salty and deep-fried. And let's not forget the Doritos, Fritos and Tostitos we gorge ourselves on, all to pay tribute to the great contributions of Colonial America's Spanish-American population.
All kidding aside, I can't help taking this Fourth of July a little more seriously than I have in the past. Two of my best friends now serve in the armed forces, and their dedication to the principles this country was founded on amaze me. They're wonderful, talented people with a sense of obligation and dedication that I admire. One will eventually head to Iraq, the other to Korea. They'll work hard to support the United States and protect the freedom that we've long enjoyed and often taken for granted. And I will be proud to call them my best friends.
But as they (eventually) head for foreign soil, I'm concerned about the situation here at home. Being a first-class wimp with no desire to ever fire an M-16 (even if I could name it "Bloody Mary"), my battles will be fought on domestic ground. The past few months have been disconcerting for someone like me, who uses my freedom with words to make a living. I rely on the First Amendment and trust that it will keep me safe when all other domestic enemies threaten to destroy me. Life might be scary after 9/11, but at least I can still write or speak my mind freely. Right?
Wrong. Just ask Howard Stern, who was booted off radio stations in six cities earlier this year for his "indecency." I think Howard's shows are awful, so I only listened a few times. But I had that choice. I could choose to listen or flip the dial. So I flipped. When the media conglomerate that owns most of radio in my town removed him, they took away our right to choose, our right to exert the basic freedom to make a decision. And they took away Howard's right to free speech. Just like that.
Howard's coming back though, and in the press conference to announce the return, someone asked him what he considered "indecent." His answer? People dumping chemicals into streams without being fined, people ruining our natural resources without any repercussions. And people, slowly but surely, limiting the rights guaranteed under the First Amendment.
Think about it for a minute. Think of all the things you just can't say anymore. Someone doesn't die—they "cease to breathe;" someone isn't short—they're vertically challenged. We sugarcoat our reality so people aren't offended or so we don't piss people off.
Sometimes the truth hurts, yes, so we use discretion to spare friends' feelings. And that's fine. But when we have to use someone else's words to describe an event or a person—just so we can keep them happy—then we step into scary territory that's left the First Amendment far behind. We enter a land where freedom of speech becomes more and more mythical and the liberties we enjoy become mere historical once-upon-a-times we remember every year with hot dogs, fireworks and ice cream.
Do I know what to do about it? No. But it's something to think about, isn't it? We need to spread freedom to countries controlled by tyranny, but as we do that, is tyranny creeping into our houses while we sleep to steal the unspoken words from our mouths?
2 Comments:
I don't know if I'd call it tyranny so much as an univited ruling by a high ranking member of government.
But "tyranny" is so much easier to type!
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