I’m Offended by People Who are Offended

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It’s amazing that, as we close out 2014, the issue of boobie censorship is still being discussed.  Chelsea Handler, Miley Cyrus and Heidi Klum are all fighting the fight against Instragram censoring female nipples.  Twitter, on the other hand, doesn’t have this attitude about female breasts.  As adults, we should be able to handle nipples. But children are another thing, because they shouldn’t have to see nipples until… let’s say 7 or 8 seconds after being born.  At that point, nipples are going to keep them alive and they should look at them, and put their mouths on them as much as possible.  As a parent, I have first hand experience with seeing my kids vis a vis boobies.  I also have observed my kids catching a glimpse of other naughty bits in real life and usually it results in either an “I don’t care” look or laughter and giggling.  As I am completely okay with naughty-bit apathy, laughter, and giggling, I support Chelsea’s public boob showing and anyone else male or female. Instagram should enjoy this bold new century… fifteen years late.

It reminds me of the fear and confusion associated with explaining to your kids about homosexuality… which a discussion that takes as long as your average TV commercial (“some men like women, some men like men, and some women like women… but don’t worry, you don’t have to decide, it usually becomes obvious at some point).

In my career, directing and/or editing TV, I understand exactly what the rules for each network are, in relation to blurring and beeping.  And I am a good soldier, doing what the network wants.  But I never know why.  People who say they are offended by boobs, never have a good explanation why their old-school problem with the human body needs to affect all of us who don’t care.  I’m not offended, but I have to follow the rules of those people who are.  And if a word like fuck or shit is spoken on TV, we have to bleep it, which – to me – is a more offensive sound than that of the word itself.  I find it jarring and kind of infantile to have a loud beep where someone said a word I’ve heard before.  My kids have heard these words.  So they don’t care.  In fact, the super-motivating dad I am, I told them the only dirty word I don’t want to hear in my house is “can’t.” Instead of becoming foul-mouthed hooligans, they know not to say certain words at school or in front of boring religious nuts.

Like many comedians, Chelsea Handler is offering the world a greater truth, in the guise of something funny or outrageous.   I applaud her and her boobs.  I hope they can convince Instagramma that it’s time to look at the world clearly, and stop with the blurring and beeping.

Michael Addis