Fishing for a Fight: Droppin’ the (F) Bomb

It's me.

I have to say, I chuckled when I read this story, “ACLU: PSP Agree to Stop Issuing Citations for Profanity“. 

It’s comical that it came to this. Comical in the way that it’s ridiculous. Like “it’s obviously-hot-coffee-between-your-legs” ridiculous.

This is not the Victorian Age. This is the age of pregnant teens and teen moms on TV; this is the age of celebrity (some of which we have to Google) addicts on TV; this is the age of self (and network) made self worth. This is the age in which thick skins are non-existent; in which constructive criticism is construed as an attack; in which an editorial about shooting cats is viewed as … just shooting cats.

By the way, fill in the blanks on any other “Age” part, other than anything involving “humble” or having common sense.

The police are not the morality patrol. They uphold laws; some laws which are waaay outdated. But that’s their job, under their discretion. Charging someone for assault is worthwhile; citing someone for dropping the “F” bomb or calling someone an asshole is a waste of taxpayer money. It takes time and energy in the lower and higher courts.

It’s silly.  As my friend Matt said upon hearing about this story, “It’s our right to be assholes in telling other people that they’re assholes.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Or as the Vault once said, “Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot”!

There are 400,000 words in the English language, and there are seven you can't say on television. What a ratio that is! 399,993 . . . to seven. They must really be baaaad. They must be OUTRAGEOUS to be separated from a group that large. 'All of you words over here, you seven . . . baaaad words.' That's what they told us, right? 'That's a bad word!' Awwww. No bad words. Bad thoughts. Bad intentions, and wooooords. You know the seven, don't ya? - George Carlin (GantDaily Graphic)

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