The Television Tries To Scare Us, But We Belong

Freedom is a funny thing. It’s always limited, and it seems that everyone has a different idea of where those limitations lie. Recently The Onion came under fire from the Bush administration for what the administration considered inappropriate usage of the Presidential Seal. The rest of us might just consider it humorous, or, God help us, an exercise in free press. And let’s also remember that the seal belongs to us all. It is not the property of whatever jackal happens to live at 1600 Penn Ave. Now, I don’t mention this idly, in case you were wondering. This week is First Amendment Week. Yeah, it gets an entire week, then we can get back to dismantling it for the other 51. Do we appreciate the freedom we have to express ourselves? Do we understand it? Do we abuse it? Who the hell knows. But, for now, we still have it... warts and all. And if we don’t like it, we’re free to pick up a pen or a keyboard and try to change it.

I also mentioned The Onion because I was deeply troubled by two minor stories this week. The first was about a woman who arouses suspicions in her neighborhood after subscribing to The Nation. I subscribe to The Nation. The next little blurb was about a young girl whose life begins a downward spiral after checking out a Piers Anthony book at her school library. I read Piers Anthony when I was a kid. Ouch.

It’s stupid, but sometimes I still worry about fitting in, about being cool enough---basically about gaining the tacit approval of complete strangers. It happened last week when Kam and I journeyed into the depths of 747 on Campus Corner. We had to wait in line, first off, which made me feel ridiculous. Once inside the club, however, I felt even more uncomfortable, and not because we looked different (which we most certainly did), and certainly not because we were outsiders. No, I felt really uncool once I saw people I knew, friends even, and suddenly I had no idea how to relate to them anymore. I also couldn’t stop thinking about a slew of articles I printed out for my PoliSci class that I needed to read.

At this point in the post, I usually revert to my pattern of “delayed thesis,” and today is no different. See, I worry about being cool enough, as though I ever could be. I subscribe to The Nation, I read (past tense) Piers Anthony, and I own a copy of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Board Game. That’s who I am, and that’s all I know how to be. I could pop my collar, wear tan sneakers, or do whatever the hell else is cool this week, but in the back of my mind I would still be thinking about the articles I have to read, or comparing Futurama to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and hating myself the entire time. So, I guess that’s the point. There’s no point in hating yourself just to get other people to like you.

Cordelia taught us that.