Free Speech is on Fire

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The right to free speech is more important than the content of the speech-Voltaire.

 

         The right to speak freely is being eroded in the guise of political correctness. Whoopi Goldberg recently made remarks that were twisted around to make her look racist. Even after diagramming the context and an apology for saying something that was misconstrued, she was punished for voicing an opinion. For pointing out the holocaust against Jews was something bigger- you know people killing other people because--reasons.

         By the way, Jews weren't the only victims of the final solution. Gypsies, Jehovah witnesses, unionists, homosexuals, hell anybody who disagreed with fascism was shipped off to the concentration camps. Was it racism? Maybe, but it certainly was genocide on a mass scale.

          What annoys me the most about this latest outrage is how quickly people wanted to shut her down. Apologize and recant immediately or else. Free speech is allowed as long as it fits the current narrative otherwise you will be burned in a media auto de fe. There will be no appeal.

         While Goldberg was quickly vilified, the reaction to Joe Rogen dishing misinformation with Jordan Petersen or latest attempts to dissect his past remarks as racist or not are more convoluted as racism is redefined.

         Both have the right to speak their mind, it's interesting how differently they are treated by the public and their employers.

         Free speech must allow for many points of view, including uncomfortable and dissenting ones. The line is crossed when such speech incites to violence, whether it's at a women's clinic, synagogue or a Klan picnic.

        In this hyper sensitive atmosphere, civil discourse, critical thinking and plain old tolerance are thrown to the ground the instant someone feels offended.

         Imagine this destructive, divisive, and discriminating attack on speech being supported by politicians and the few corporations that own all the media in the world. Who fans the fire of criticism? Who wants to divide and conquer?

        

        free speech,whoopi goldberg, Joe Rogen,racism

I Keep Waiting, Waiting for the World to Change

            curtesy worldwildlife.org

     

 

    I sit at my desk, staring out the window at the fading light of day feeling despondent. I know writing is solitary work but instead of being productive, the past two years have been a grind.

    "I'm tired of being alone," I announce to Ben. No response.

    "I said I'm --"

    "Oh sorry I was lost in thought," he says, half asleep.

    "That must be unfamiliar territory," I retort.

    "Ba da bump," Ben shakes himself awake.

    "What is it this time?" There is a sliver of snark in his tone.

    "All I do is wait, wait for nothing to come," I make the usual bored complaint.

    "You and Jean-Paul Sarte have a lot in common," his snark goes up a notch. I pitch a wad of paper at him.

    I have been writing--rather trying to write all day but it's like searching for water in a desert. That's such a clichè, I groan, no wonder I'm getting nowhere. I hunt for a better simile.

    "These panny times have been rough on everyone," Ben opines, his slim branches relax and he takes on a bushier look.

    Panny times? Oh yeah that. The worst part is I was hoping to use the isolation as prod to focus my attention. Nope.

    "It's like Groundhog day without Bill Murray," I sink along with the evening gloom.

    "Or waiting for Go--"

    "--Don't you dare bring up that play," I seriously threaten.

    When I was a teenager I saw the play on TV and it left me baffled. What the hell was that all about? It wasn't until I was an adult when someone explained it was a metaphor on existentialism. It really was about waiting. Well, I don't always get metaphors and I can relate to the characters search for meaning, I guess that's why it pissed me off. Still.

    "What should I write about in this week's blog?" Now it's my turn to ramp up the snark.

    "You already have several essays in progress," Ben reminds me.

    "None of them are working for me," I shake my head because my brain simply refuses to from a coherent sentence. Musicians fear the loss of hearing, the artist their sight. For a writer when the mind goes, it's the end. Rossini was famous for the speed and originality of his operas but quit composing at a young age.

    " The melodies used to chase after me, now I have to chase after them," he explained.

    I know the feeling. All I ever wanted to do was write. I wrote movie reviews in high school and college newspapers. I have written essays, editorials, letter to the editor. I have written multiple short stories, and four novels in long hand. Maybe I'm just dried up like the clichèd desert I wander through. Sigh, it's choice between staring at the blank page or staring at the wall-both are oblivion.

    " I need a drink," I decide and get up from my chair.

    "Hold it sister, you're not getting buzzed until you finish that article on recycling, tarot or the latest Whoopi Goldberg uproar," He's goading me now, but his demand triggers a wave.

    Artists talk about being in a flow state when creative. Losing track of time, feeling euphoria knowing it's right. For me, it's like the perfect wave surfers wait to catch and I can feel it rise under me, pushing me forward.

    I turn to my computer and start to write.