Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Flying Porcine Check

It's rare I'll have anything good to say about the Eric Holder Justice Department, rife with scandal, inflicted upon us by the Obamanation.

This is one of the rare moments. Lyrical tributes aside, so long as happy naked fun is occurring between competent and consenting adults of the homo sapiens variety - it's none of .gov's bloody business!!

We may (or may not) frown on it privately, we may (or may not) consider it evidence of moral depravity, and we may (or may not) view/enjoy it ourselves - but it's all freedom of expression, clearly outside of the bounds of activity that government may regulate.

Now, that does NOT mean that a depiction of an unlawful act (let us say, for instance, a snuff scene) cannot or should not lead to prompt prosecution of those committing or soliciting the homicide in such an instance. It does not mean that relatives of the victim cannot sue on a variety of grounds. And it's darned hard to imagine how such a thing would end up on a recorded medium without the recording party and/or their associates being culpable co-conspirators.

The same holds true for most other forms of sexual naughtiness (the very definition of porn) - break the law (do something that would be criminal if it WEREN'T being recorded) and making a film of it and then distributing it worldwide doesn't exactly count as a *defense*. More like masochistic stupid in action, leading shortly to a jail cell and a new friend named "Bubba".

Given the fragility of the First Amendment, Senator Hatch? The bit where once we let the government decide what we can or cannot read, say, see, or think on one's a dreadfully short nano-second until the door is flung open to allow all kinds of regulation of freedom of expression?

Y'all can take that letter of yours, fold it up all sharp corners, carefully load it into an antique punt gun, bend over, drop trousers, and fire it into your rectal regions.

Our bedrooms (and, barring nonhumans and/or persons not consenting and capable adults, films of what we wish we might stumble across in our bedrooms) are none of your damned business, and I'll thank you to keep your paws to yourself.

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