I was talking with a friend last weekend who insisted that my articles have become somewhat vanilla in flavor. “I really like it when you stir things a bit; it makes me happy to know that suburban housewives everywhere are condemning you to hell.” Those weren’t her exact words of course, but the sentiment was the same. So here you go, APC of Carmel. I’ll be sure to forward all of the hate mail to you.
Why do people get so worked up over pornography? And for that matter, since when did the “Diary of Anne Frank” become eligible for book burning due to its pornographic material? No kidding, a woman in Michigan has filed a complaint with her city council because she feels like the material is too explicit in nature for her precious little seventh-grader. Not the stuff on Nazi-occupied Europe or the Holocaust, mind you, but the part where Anne is just expressing her feelings about her body like every other teenage girl who has ever walked on this planet. If this is porn, then I guess we’ll have to start carding purchasers of root beer.
Remember Judy Blume? She’s the whole reason I became an avid reader back in middle-school. I’d finally found an author who was telling it like it was, and in ways I could relate. Now, some of her novels were fairly mature in nature, so I can understand why they weren’t on my sixth-grade reading list. But Anne Frank? Seriously? My only solace is knowing that she’s made such a ridiculous ruckus about the book that every kid for miles will be dying to read it.
I also find it hilarious that she’s naïve enough to think her son hasn’t already been exposed to pornography before. With the internet and cable mini-series, porn is not only everywhere but also easily accessible to even the youngest of the tech savvy.
Which leads me back to my initial question: What’s the big deal anyway? Who cares if someone wants to spice up their love life with a little “Sex and the City” or “Fifty Shades of Grey?” As long as it’s experienced in moderation among adults, like alcohol and gambling, porn seems as harmless a vice as any.
I’m not condoning daily visits to the Kitty Kat Lounge & Cinema, but I just don’t see the problem with a subscription to Penthouse. And, I definitely wouldn’t label “The Diary of Anne Frank” as porn. Clearly, this mom needs to spend some quality alone time at her computer. Peace out.