In celebration of johnnypeeper’s first week of blogging, I bring you a movie clip.
Warning – This clip is guilty of the following:
- Promoting racial hatred,
- Portraying, in an acceptable light, violence motivated by an individual’s national origin,
- Glorifying the inhuman treatment of individuals due to their class, and
- Attacking individuals based on their sexual orientation
If you are offended by the visual depiction and/or auditory presentation of one or more of the aforementioned, please do not watch or listen to this clip. That being said, enjoy responsibly.
You might notice my tendency to throw around the concept of free speech in my posts. Well, johnnypeepers got a long and sordid history with coming into conflict with those who want to oppress it. In fact, when I was about 5, I learned for the first time that there were societally-imposed barriers to speaking your little dirty-ass mind. I remember chasing our house-cat, Trickle, around the living-room calling him a “fucking feline”. Needless to say, my Momma cold whupped my little ass and told me I can’t be saying that shit.
I ain’t got to tell you the powerful effect that lesson had on little johnny. Since I knew the word was naughty, I was telling every nigga I knew about it (restricted mostly to Kindergarten acquaintenances). I even spread the word to jokers I didn’t know, including the dish-washer repairman. I’m surprised the good-hearted bureaucrats at Child Protective Services didn’t come in to rescue me from my abusive environment.
When I was 8, I developed a real bad vocabulary hangin’ with cats who were 14 or 15. They got a kick out of having me recite the mechanics of human reproduction. Little johnny didn’t know what all that shit was about cuz I couldn’t make no ball-juice, but I would be ready when the bitches came my way.
High-school was a little different. Since I was hip to the free expression prohibitions and speech codes of my oppressors, I developed an alternative lexicon. I contrived up words with no recognized linguistic meaning, but me and my Homies knew what they meant. This was an adaptive strategy used to defy my captors, much like the tactics employed by the people in the Soviet Union (including Pootie-Poot’s Democratic Russia) and modern-day China.
Until recently, I always had a vague understanding of free speech. I would wrap myself in its liberal protections frequently, but I did not know the critical role it performed in a free society. Eventually, I learned that Man’s (and Womyn’s) innate right to speak his/her mind provides her/him the tool to battle countervailing beliefs and oppression. Without free speech, we are relegated to 6 billion individual human islands thirsting for individual liberty, but who cannot aggregate the necessary force to implement it. With this recently acquired knowledge, I now champion the fundamental human right to free speech whenever, and wherever, I can.
I would be selfish not to acknowledge the cat who facilitated johnnypeeper’s greater understanding of this critical human right. Marc Randazza is a First Amendment attorney who specializes in obscenity, trademark, and copyright matters. He has an incredible blog called The Legal Satyricon that I highly recommend.
Without people like Marc, the State (motivated by a mob-rule mentality), would gradually whittle away your First Amendment rights in the interest of a never-ending variety of
bullshit compelling justifications (national security, women’s rights, other assorted protected-class rights, unruly political discourse, hurt feelings, religious sensitivities, etc.). I highly recommend you check out his site and thank him for protecting your rights.