Monday, October 15, 2012

Fuck Mohammed. And Fuck the West, too!

 The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say the wisest thing you can, old man, -- you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind, -- I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that.   
-Henry David Thoreau

Here's a lovely article by Brian Stauffer of The Washington Post explaining how the Western world has decided to stuff its ass with political correctness as it flushes freedom of expression down the toilet.

I've always, always hated political correctness. When I was a young boy a long, long time ago in the early '90s, we didn't call it "political correctness." We just called it what it fucking was: censorship.

Like most kids, I hated my parents when they censored my vastly growing and exhilarating diction of four letter words. And I hated those teachers who censored my fictional stories about teenage sex, Molotov cocktails and fistfights in English class (and adored the teachers who didn't). I prayed silently at night for a slow, rectum-plunging death of those school "officials" who gave me detention for wearing my beloved offensive t-shirts from Mexico with farm animals porking each other. And I nearly vomited in disgust at the hypocrisy of my journalism teachers--who always spoke in such glowing terms of awe and reverence about how lucky we Americans were to have the 1st Amendment--when they would send my articles to the administration for review prior to publication. (These were news articles I wrote for my junior high school newspaper.)

Usually, after an administrative review, the principal would call me in to her office to have a private "conference" with me, explaining why, though "we"--(this being the first time I heard the omnipotent "we" employed as a metaphor for the administration, later to be used, I would learn, as a voice for society or government)-- though"we" respect freedom of speech, "we" had to be sensitive to the needs of other people, to the parents who wouldn't understand, for example, the reality of marijuana smoke I wrote about in an 8th-grade review of a Phish concert.

I recall my 13-year-old self attempting to reason with my dear principal, "Maybe it's good for the parents to get offended every now and then, right? Maybe that would open their eyes some to what's really going on out there, right?"

Right. But these issues were always closed to begin with. The facade of a discussion regarding my freedom of expression was just that. Just as it is for the rest of us, more and more, in the West today--an illusion, a mirage of liberty in our vast, deserted wasteland that we wish were real. But we know the truth--the mere existence of laws prohibiting free expression and free speech (no matter how "culturally insensitive" or what have you)--blots out any authentic discourse with the same puritanically white "correction" fluid used by Winston Smith to rewrite history in 1984.

 I would have to accept the changes to my work with the same reserve that I had to accept detentions for animal-fucking t-shirts. But I just couldn't contain myself at times. My attitude and beliefs toward the authorities of my junior high school, after suffering such teeny-bop injustice, frequently lashed from my tongue with the sprite, vibrant energy of a young lesbian tasting the moist fruit of sweet peach-fuzz for her very first time. "Fuck this school," soon became both my motto and the secular prayer I recited minute by minute to get by each day.

I still feel the same way about free speech as I did back then. And the proper response to the West's growing intolerance for freedom of expression deserves the same irreverent brevity: Fuck the West.

In light of the fact that many of these new "hate-speech" laws are being codified with the intent of protecting the delicate, precious innocent ears of violent Muslims from the "intolerance" of offensive pricks like me, I've gone through the trouble of speckling this article with as many offensive pictures of their prophet as I could find on the internet in ten minutes.

This blog post is dedicated to the creators of a show I soon discovered after leaving junior high for high school. As fellow victims of censorship, Trey Parker and Matt Stone have proven for over a decade the importance and effectiveness of fighting censorship, not by lobbying the same blood-sucking politicians who write these laws in the first place, but by creating simple works of art that tell them to fuck off.

So, in the spirit of South Park, let's start a new cheer for freedom of expression, artistic liberty, and the right to be an offensive, insensitive, vile, wretched, disgusting, degenerate, good-for-nothing, low-down, ugly, stinky, filthy asshole:

Fuck Mohammed. And Fuck the West, too!