Some Thoughts About Censorship, or Maybe Not
“We need censorship in this country because there is always the danger of something being said” --- Pat Paulson, editorial reader on the old Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, circa 1967.
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AH, THE GOOD old days, when we were young, didn't have any money, and everybody told us what to do --- I mean, when all things seemed possible, including the radical notion of free speech. We can say dirty words now. In case you're longing for locker room jokes and noises, they're all over the ubiquitous B-movies on Comedy Central. This is the free speech we fought for? I also don't have any interest in being known as a grumpy old guy. Citing Comedy again, the Daily Show and the Colbert Report represent political satire the Smothers Brothers couldn't have dreamed of getting away with forty years ago. So all has not been in vain. What gets my panties in a bunch (whoops!--- here I go already!) is how politically and socially correct we're expected to be in discussion of these topics. An analogy: My Pop, a proud veteran of what he used to refer to as "The Big one---WWII" loved to tell jokes. In the sixties, it was Italian jokes. Then it was Polish jokes. Then we got into dumb blonde jokes, drunk jokes, you name it. Pop had a simple standard: It had to be funny. One of this favorites: An Italian, a Jew, and a fellow from India are taking a weekend drive in the countryside when their car breaks down. Unable to fix it, particularly given the ethnic makeup (if you aren't thoroughly offended yet, best stop now), they spot a farmhouse in the distance. They go and knock on the door. The farmer answers, invites them in and says "You're welcome to stay, but I only have two spare beds. One of you will have to sleep in the barn." "No problem" says the guy from Israel. "I'll go sleep in the barn." He exits, everybody settles down and starts to doze. Comes a knock on the door; it's the Jew. "I'm sorry," he says."We keep Kosher in my family, and there's a pig in the barn, I can't sleep there." "It's alright", says the Indian gent. "I'll go sleep in the barn." So he goes out; again everybody settles down. Another knock on the door, this time the fellow from India. "I didn't realize there'd be a cow in the barn, my bad. In my country the cow is a sacred animal." Indignant, the Italian speaks up. "Whassamada with you two? I'll go sleep in the barn". Same drill, and sure enough, another knock on the door. This time it's the cow and the pig.
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SO WHAT'S THE MATTER with this joke, other than the fact that depending on how many people I've been exposed to, I have deeply offended at least two ethnic groups? I would include the Italians, but they aren't even organized well enough to keep their own government together much more than a year at a time. That should make it a clean sweep for me. And therein lies my point. THE JOKE IS FUNNY! It is also hideously incorrect, politically and socially. SO WHAT? Pop was half Italian, and figured if he couldn't take a joke at his own expense, what right did he have getting on his high horse about other groups? I was in food service, which to the best of my knowledge it's still fine to make fun of. It's never bothered me. Heck, When Jesse Jackson referred to New York as "Hymietown" about 25 years ago, THAT was offensive. A small part of me can forgive him, I guess (open mike; public figures say dumb things), but sorry, Jesse--- over the top. Much classier the way President Reagan handled his open mike before his Saturday morning radio address: "My fellow Americans, I've just signed legislation outlawing the Soviet Union. Bombing begins in five minutes." Now THAT was funny.
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WHICH BRINGS ME TO my Mission Statement: My objective is to be as politically incorrect as possible, within the parameters of good taste and libel law. I'm not only proud of this. I'm smug about it. So let's ice the cake with some pure sexism, courtesy of my bro (who, like dad, is an engineer--- go figure). Guy approaches a lady at a party and sez: "Would you sleep with me for a million dollars?" "Sure, she exudes."Fine," he replies. "Would you sleep with for ten bucks?" "Of course not," she responds indignantly. " What kind of woman do you think I am?" "We've already established what kind of woman you are" the guy rejoinds, "Now we're just haggling over price."
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This piece runs a little short. I'm being told it's time to shut up and move along.
