Saturday, September 15, 2012

A Sad Day for Free Speech

I'm sickened this morning. I awoke to news that the filmmaker, whose "film" was nothing more than a straw man in the calculated attacks made by Islamists in the past days, had been confiscated by the government for "questioning."

Regardless of where your politics lie, there are certain things that are constant, and beyond any negotiation. Among those things is our natural right to free expression, which, if stripped or limited, is an act of tyranny. No more, no less. If we allow this, we cease to be America. Our contract we made with our government becomes null and void, as we, the people, who drew the terms of that contract, will have been wronged.

As I said, this is not negotiable. You can think it's a great thing that the filmmaker was arrested. Hell, the majority of Americans can think it's a good thing. But I will not accept mob rule in my country. The freedom to follow the mob or buck its will is my birthright, and it will not be taken from me, and I'll fight to see that it is not taken from you. And I will not apologize for being blessed to live in a nation where I am free to express a faith in God, a faith in government, or a faith in nothing with equal zeal.

Nothing can capture the absurdity of what we are witnessing. But Mark Steyn comes as close as can be hoped for here:

So, on a highly symbolic date, mobs storm American diplomatic facilities and drag the corpse of a U.S. ambassador through the streets. Then the president flies to Vegas for a fundraiser. No, no, a novelist would say; that’s too pat, too neat in its symbolic contrast. Make it Cleveland, or Des Moines.

The president is surrounded by delirious fanbois and fangurls screaming “We love you,” too drunk on his celebrity to understand this is the first photo-op in the aftermath of a national humiliation. No, no, a filmmaker would say; too crass, too blunt. Make them sober, middle-aged midwesterners, shocked at first, but then quiet and respectful.

Read it all here.

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