American television is controlled by the Federal Communications Commission, and like most bureaucracies the FCC does nothing until people yell. It doesn't even take a huge percentage of the population: when Fox¹s "Married by America" program showed a racy little scene involving whipped cream, it prompted 159 complaints . . . and got Fox a million-dollar fine. Obviously, our televisions are being controlled by small groups of idiots and wackos that determine what the rest of us see.
The latest outrage to these people was the Super Bowl halftime show. Now, I didn't see it -- which reminds me that I need to write that article about sports fans being brain-dead -- but evidently Prince performed behind a giant sheet, and the silhouette of his guitar looked like a penis. (Well, if you've never seen a penis: generally speaking, they end well below the bearer's head.) Even before it was over, the idiots of America were running for their crayons. The FCC received 150 letters, evently divided between idiots and wackos. Here's an example of the former, posted on "The Smoking Gun" website:
"I am very offended and would preffer not to have showed it to my 4 children who love football. One of them has hoped to be a quarterback and now he will turn out gay. I am actually considering to check him for HIV. Thanks CBS for turning my son GAY."
And here's an example of the latter: "During Prince's rendition of "Purple Rain" there seemed to be a shadow puppet of his penis. The sheet? That was the backdrop seemed to be (stained?) with something (semen?). My children were watching and now I have to explain to them what a wet spot is on a cum-covered sheet. Thanks CBS."
Now, in a perfect world, the FCC would have acted on this letter. They'd have forwarded it to the FBI, and a SWAT team would have burst into this house. Because picture this happy little family all sitting there watching the Superbowl: Daddy, in his Barcalounger, with a Pabst in his hand, and little Billy and Betty, wondering when Daddy will play checkers with them and wishing beer had never been invented. Suddenly Prince appears, and little Betty is intrigued. "Daddy," she says, in a burst of childhood exuberance, "why is Prince jerking off behind a cum-covered sheet?"
Seriously, if this is what happened, THE POLICE NEED TO GO TO THIS MAN'S HOUSE.
Now, maybe this will all come to nothing, because they're not talking about fining Prince. But if we want America to stop being the punchline to a joke, we need a government that doesn't exist solely to protect us from imagined penises. We need a government that doesn't listen to idiots. And, since that halftime show is turning all our children gay, we need a government that'll organize more kickball teams in our schools.
Joni Mitchell
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Tuesday is Joni Mitchell’s 81st birthday. Roberta Joan Anderson was born
November 7, 1943, in Fort Macleod, Alberta. For this birthday tribute we
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