The Price of Freedom

It has been said that those who give up liberty for safety neither deserve nor will have either one. This applies equally to freedom of expression as to all other things. The opinion has been expressed, and lauded by many, that the job of our United States Postal Service should include examining and approving mail, either on the exterior or perhaps even as far as opening “suspicious” documents. That scares me.

Now, I’m a sensible guy. Bomb-sniffing dogs don’t trouble me in the least. Protect me from someone intent on doing me physical harm, without opening my packages or letters until you’ve established the presence of dangerous chemicals, and I’ll thank you.

The line becomes blurry when it comes to illegal substances that may cause me harm, but only if I choose to use them – and while I can assure everyone that I don’t, and we’ll skip arguments over the legalization of drugs, I’d rather the government (or any semi-governmental agency like the United States Postal Service) keep its nose, and the noses of dogs, out of my business. Someday I may well develop a medical condition, such as glaucoma, and the government’s short-sightedness would prevent me from having legal access to the necessary drugs that would ease my pain. Frankly, in such a case, I don’t give two hoots what a law some airhead politician managed to pass says about the legality of the substance. My choice, again.

As for any printed material, be it graphic or text, I expect it to be delivered to my door, period. If it has something on the outside that I find offensive, such as some babbling about being “saved” by some long-dead mystic, or donating to an organization that proudly defends its right to bigotry on the basis of religion or sexual orientation, I can practice my bank-shots into the nearest waste receptacle. Same thing, of course, should the inside material be lacking in interest for me. I’m an adult, capable of making adult decisions.

“Ah! But what about the children?” I can hear you asking. Yes, what about them? Let’s assume that I’ve actually tried to teach my children some rather twisted values, like “Nekkid bodies is bad!” or something similar. Rather than get into the sociological effects of repressed sexuality, I’ll simply admonish the so-called parents to get off your lazy backsides and be parents! You chose to have those kids, now raise them! No one ever said it would be easy, that the government would become surrogate mommy and daddy so you could make sure not to miss a minute of Oprah! Walk out to the box and get your own mail, watch the programs your kids watch, monitor their computer use. Do what it takes, or give them up for adoption!

Oh yes, I can hear you saying, “But little Johnny likes going out to get the mail!” So what? The world should be arranged now to fit the likes and dislikes of your spoiled brat? I think not!

Just think, someday he or she is going to have to get along in the world without you. They do grow up. Why in the world would you want to miss an opportunity to teach your child about human behavior, tolerance, and the overall reality that there are other people out there of all shapes, sizes, and philosophies, and it’s about time we stop murdering everyone who has a difference of opinion.