Free Speech, Its Use And Abuse

All from this week:

Just when you thought the so-called "Free Speech Zones" were bad, The "Trespass Bill" offers up a vaguely broad power to squelch protests. Ostensibly this is about protecting the president and anyone else who gets Secret Service protection, but the vague language of the bill could give the government the power to restrict protests at any time and place, including...

...a building or grounds...in conjunction with an event designated as a special event of national significance.

The term "national significance" is not defined here, which historically means that in practice the government could arbitrarily declare any event one of national significance.

So heads up Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street: Once again it seems that the only time the government can act with complete bipartisanship is when they're laboring to take away everyone's rights.

Once upon a time I would catch at least a piece of Rush Limbaugh's radio show almost every day, and he gave me a phrase that's since become one of my favorite tenets: "Words mean things".

One big reason I stopped listening to him a few years ago was because he acted as if he'd quit believing this. He also used to insist that conservatives don't engage in name-calling. But obviously he's quit believing this too, having drawn fire for ignoring the meaning of the word "slander" and referring to Sandra Fluke, the Georgetown University student who wanted to testify to Congress about contraception, as a "slut" and a "prostitute".

Rush, of course, isn't the only male who engages in using derogatory sexual terms to condemn women he disagrees with. Plenty do it, and it's the same mentality that blames a rape victim for being raped. But provided you're not interested in taking the high ground, or if you no longer believe that words indeed mean things, I say if these people are going to set the rules, then they should have to live by them too.

So from now on, if you disagree with Limbaugh then please feel free to call him a "pimp". There's also "male prostitute", or simply "sex worker".

Then again, why stop with sexual terms? As long as someone feels that it's perfectly legitimate to accuse an opponent of engaging in an illegal activity without regard to any facts, then one could thus legitimately accuse Limbaugh of being a "thief", "vandal", "slave trader", or even "inside trader". The choices are endless.

A little sanity too: San Diego sports anchor Ross Shimabuku just got suspended after implying to Danica Patrick's face that she's a bitch. And for implying that it's a bad thing when a woman knows she's sexy. And in the context of the interview, for implying that a female athlete is either "sexy" or a "bitch". Kudos to KSWB for doing the right thing. (Thanks to Laurie for the heads up on this article.)

Progress-And-A-Half

I technically knocked out 2200 words last Friday and then 800 more on Monday, but I never got around to posting about those since I ultimately chopped up most of the 2200 almost immediately, rewrote on Monday, and came up with the 800 as a net gain.

Starting this Monday my writing time will be reduced--I'll be going into work two hours early every day for the rest of the semester, which works out to me getting ready for work shortly after I'd otherwise be sitting down to write. But I'll just make myself wake up a little earlier, and in the meantime I'll be getting what essentially works out to being overtime every week for two or three months, which I hope to transform into trip money when I head to Arizona this June.

PROGRESS REPORT FOR 2/29/12

New Words: 1200 on Chapter 3 ("Spirit, Faith, and Reason") of Arizona. The officer overseeing the soldiers at the Awatovi pueblo accepts a big bribe from the new and greedy governor to start undermining the friars there.

Total Words: 102900. Admittedly I'd be more excited about the 100K landmark if I wasn't still just on Chapter 3 (out of 8). :)

Reason For Stopping: Finished the scene and had other work to attend to.

Book Year: 1638.

Mammalian Assistance: Brief visits from Vegas, Friday, and Nate.

Exercise: Round trip walk to the library.

Stimulants: Dr. Pepper.

Submissions Sent Out In February: 3 (albeit all with more than one piece per sub.)

Total Submissions Out Right Now: 6. The oldest is coming up on 11 months.

Today's Opening Passage: Over the next year life for the Hopitu, Franciscans, and soldiers was uneasy but peaceful across the western pueblos. But when the war between Church and State reasserted itself, the pueblos’ isolation that until then guaranteed they would mostly be left alone by the government’s greed—a rapaciousness savaging the eastern pueblos—finally began to crumble.

Darling Du Jour: “I will protest this in Santa Fe,” Fray Bernardo growled, startling Miguel. “I will protest this in Mexico City if I obtain no satisfaction from the governor.”

Cristobal jumped to his feet and loomed over the table. “And what will you say, friar, when I tell the governor and the viceroy that you have allowed the Moqui to keep their heathen ceremonies and dances, ay? How will you answer those charges?”

It was true—where Fray Francisco had burned and forbidden, Fray Bernardo quietly turned a half-blind eye, the seeing half slowly devoted towards turning those pagan ceremonies into Christian ones the same way the ancient and medieval missionaries of Europe did. Once it was clear that no more Kachina masks and prayer sticks would be burned, most of the Awatovi villagers, and even many of those in Walpi, started flocking to services. But it was likely not a tactic that would meet his superiors’ approval.

“And do you think your supply wagons appear by magic?” the captain pressed. “The supplies have to be paid for, and the drivers, and the soldiers to guard them, and the wagons themselves. How long would your mission last if the wagons stopped coming?”

“But it’s the law,” Miguel sputtered. “One wagon per two friars…”

Cristobal glared down at the young friar to show him exactly what the captain thought of the law when his personal wealth and social advancement were at stake.

Fray Bernardo rose with barely restrained calm to meet Cristobal eye to eye. “Have you no hope of Heaven, captain, or fear of Hell?” He added something that might plunge deeper into the captain’s heart: “Have you no honor?”

“Keep to your own kind, Fray Bernardo,” Cristobal advised him, “and I shall keep to mine.”

Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: Farmer; Bragg; Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins.