“There has to be more to life than this, because in our confrontation with a cold, cold universe, there is something comical to the idea that we can really impose our will on humanity; power corrupts!”
– Poe, Control

It took me a while to finally watch the recent two-parter on South Park (Cartoon Wars) that deals with censorship, depictions of Mohammed, Family Guy, and so much more (including the fact that in fights between kids, a shot to the balls is just plain unfair). Frankly, given how hot button the topic is, and how personally involved Stone and Parker were involved (Comedy Central refuses to rerun the episode that tackled Scientology and Tom Cruise, as well [one would assume from the episode] as not permitting Parker and Stone to show a depiction of Mohammed), I thought it was incredibly well handled. It’s worth tracking down on YouTube or through Bittorrent to find it.

One of the things that is so — well, for lack of a better word, interesting about me and Red is that she’s a fairly conservative type. As in, votes Republican. Now, it’s not that I’m a screaming leftie who worships all things Kennedy; frankly, I’m not sure what category I fall into. I’m pro-choice, I’m all for the right to bear arms (though, in fairness, I think we should arm the bears in return), I’m all for Medicare and anti-war. I certainly lean progressive on a lot of social issues, though I also feel fairly strongly that the government should keep it’s hands off of anything that involves me and me alone (I’m not a fan of most drug laws, seatbelt laws, etc.).

I think my most politically defining characteristic is that I believe there are no rules, only expectations. There’s nothing that I believe in so strongly that I won’t concede the occasional exception: parents who let their kids into cars without seatbelts should be fined exhorbitantly, and limits on things like drinking (age restrictions) and gun ownership (background checks and mandatory waiting periods) are really good things. I believe in balance and moderation; the one thing I hate about American politics more than any bad decision or backstabbing manuever is the rabid extremist. Ann Coulter comes to mind (mostly because she’s utterly deluded, rarely if ever backing up her opinions with non-imaginary facts); I’m certain that there are liberals in this same vein out there. I can’t name one, though, because Democrats seem to be represented by scared little girls.

Al Franken, by the way, gets a pass, for two reasons: his arguments (at least in his books; I’ve never listened to his radio show) have the weight of research and factual evidence behind them, and he’s funny as hell. Coulter — well, she looks funny. That probably counts for something if I mute the TV.

That was mean, wasn’t it? But then, I’m also fully aware that if you like Coulter, I’m wrong, period, from here to eternity. And if you don’t like her – well, what’s left to say that we haven’t already all imagined?

Politics in general sort of disgusts me, because the people that run for office and win ostensibly represent the majority of Americans. In factual reality, they represent the majority of American voters. In my eyes, they represent the absolute bottom of the barrel of humanity: they are obsessed with power, with money, with getting and getting and getting for them and theirs. I have yet to approach an election with any feeling other than that I was choosing between the lesser of two really unpleasantries.

Voting in this country has become a new game show. Let’s Make a Deal meets Fear Factor. And we all lose. “All right, Harold – you can bury your face for four years in a bucket full of rotten, dieased meat and bum urine, or you can take whatever waits behind door number two! But here’s a hint, before you make your choice: he has a fourteen inch penis when flaccid, and he thinks you’ve got a really nice smile.”

There are good people running for office, of course. Unfortunately, they have nice smiles, too, and nowhere near the resources it would take to keep door number two closed.

I’ve never been one with aspirations to be President (duh), or even in upper management. Well, that’s not entirely true, though I have no interest in being in charge of other people. Not to say that I can’t do a good job of running things, in areas where I am experienced and competent; I’ve held management positions before and done a more than capable job, if you look at numbers and results.But I hate the idea of firing and hiring people. I hate the idea of having to reprimand people.

I don’t want control over anyone except myself.

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, for various and sundry reasons: if there’s a reason for me to be in management, it’s so that I don’t have a boss above me (ditto self-employment). The issues I have with relationships stem from plays for power and control — and really, how sad do you have to be to validate yourself by contolling someone who loves you?

Yeah, that’s a shot. Fuck you if you’re reading this.

I don’t want to control anyone else, nor do I want anyone having control over me. One of the turnaround moments of my life was when I realized and accepted that I have ultimately absolutely no control over any person other than myself. I can advise, and push, and steer and hope all I want, but sometimes even my best intentioned efforts will fall short, because people will do what they are going to do. Once I let that go, I stopped wasting a lot of energy.

So, you want to control other people on some level. You want them to be more like you, to believe in your god, to take offense at the same things, to eat what you eat and be the same color. You go out of your way to strip away the right of the minority to choose: establish an official state church, a state language. Outlaw things that fit your definition of offensive. Then turn the screws some more, until everything fits your nice, dreamy vision of The Way Things Ought To Be.

But leave me out of it, because I’ve got my own dreamy vision. So, I’ll wager, does every other person walking this earth. And maybe the majority of us walk with you right now, instead of me; but stop and think before you strip away the rights of the minority, because things turn on a dime in this world, and you might be the minority in the space between a breath and a scream. And then what — will you act as you expect me to, complacent or even thankful when you are forced to say “cum dumpster” to finish every sentence, ritual cutting is required to graduate high school, and you either worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster or opt for slow death by snorting broken glass?

The problem with being someone like me, who believes and tries to practice a live and let live way of life, who really at the core just wants to be left alone, is that – well, we just want to be left alone. We don’t want to fight, but you do, because you want control. And too many of us are not prepared to fight, not for ourselves and most certainly not for others who want to be left alone, too.

Why do you control? Beneath your rationale and validation and justifications, what is in it for you? What do you gain from taking away my four letter words and my gonzo porn and my horror movies? What’s in it for you that I should wear a coat and tie and cut my hair and have no tattoos?

If you’re a politician, I think the answer is money. Because by and large, this country is no longer run by the people, for the people. What you see in the papers and on TV every day are not people with your best interests at heart, but puppets with the cold and unfeeling hands of corporate slot machines elbow deep inside of them. This is a country run by the talking heads for Big Money.

But even behind them, behind the politicians, there are still the people who elect them, the people who write poorly constructed editorial letters to the local papers, the bloggers with the acid keyboards, the flag-wavers and church-goers who who be lost without their fellow sheep to show them where to go next. And I think, deep inside of them, there is very little more than fear; fear of what is different, fear of a change to their precious status quo, fear that they’ve been wrong all this time. They find safety in numbers. They relinquish a little bit of their souls in order to make a play for yours and mine.

If there’s a reason that I’m pro-choice, that I’m anti-censorship, and that I will find exceptions to every rule (including the rule that there are exceptions to every rule), it is this: if you find that you can control one aspect of my life that should be hands-off from the get go, you’re going to start pushing and prodding until you find another, and another, and another, until soon enough I’m all yours.

That’s a slippery slope I’d rather not head down, personally. If for no other reason than I get the feeling there’s no South Park or Family Guy at the bottom.