Home > Uncategorized > Censorship. Would somebody break out the duct tape?

Censorship. Would somebody break out the duct tape?

The whole concept of censorship (and its radical opposite: free speech) has been kicking around in my head lately. Rarely have I been censored (there was that whole irate letter that I wrote that wasn’t published in the school newspaper about a bone-headed decision to send kids to school on icy roads in the late ’80s). But I digress.

There haven’t been too many times when I’ve had the duct tape treatment, but there sure are times that I wish somebody would pass me a roll.

In South Carolina, our politicians are a different breed. I’d go so far to say they seem to be the “Cafe Risque” of the political world (geographical sidenote: for those not around these parts, Cafe Risque was a “we dare to bare” restaurant/strip joint that opened up in Lavonia, Georgia, a few years ago. They slipped through the zoning boards by saying it would be a “family-style” restaurant similar to Cracker Barrel. Needless to say, the citizenry were quite upset when the billboards went up advertising the attractions in the restaurant, where “lap dance” was listed on the menu board somewhere between “hot wings” and “fried pickles.”)


I was one of the people totally disillusioned by Mark Sanford and the whole “Appalachian trail-go AWOL for several days-visit soul mate in Argentina train wreck.” Watching that press conference, I was hoping one of his PR staffers would get the duct tape out, and quick. I had met Sanford a couple times years before when I worked at a public relations firm in Myrtle Beach. The representative –not yet governor–came to several of our tourism-related events and seemed like a nice, reasonable human being.

This year’s campaign season has brought us duct tape candidate Nikki Haley, who one insider has called “Sanford in a skirt.” If she wins the nomination from Gresham Barrett, we’re going to need to stock up. When Michigan elected Jesse “The Body” Ventura its governor, most of the U.S. was scratching its head and wondering “what in the world were they thinking?”

Now, it seems, we’ve taken that prize position on the political dartboard as the state that elects the “Cafe Risque” candidates. When they go in, we think they’re going to be as American as apple pie and Cracker Barrel but instead we end up with some greasy chicken wings and a lap dance. Duct tape, anybody?

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