“If your library is not ‘unsafe’, it probably isn’t doing its job.”

“Did you ever hear anyone say ‘That work had better be banned because I might read it and it might be very damaging to me’?”– Joseph Henry Jackson

I have never seen the reason or intelligence in banning a book; in all honestly it may be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard of. I’m disappointed that this year I missed banned books week because I always try to read a book that is banned or challenged during that week. I suppose that since I am in the process of reading Stephanie Meyer’s New Moon when I have the time it might count. I predict that eventually the idiots of this world will begin to protest and challenge that series too. After all, these are the people who want powerful books that mean something to be banned. As you can tell I am of the opinion that no book should ever be banned, regardless of its subject matter or ‘ideas’.

Most people who want a book banned have either not read the book, fear the book, do not understand the book, misread the book, find the book disagrees with their personal ideas or beliefs, are offended by the book, or some combination of those things. Case in point: the Harry Potter series. I am a huge fan of the books, and as an adult I probably get more out of it intellectually and philosophically than a younger reader, and let me tell you something about them. J.K. Rowling speaks on issues and ideas far beyong the ‘magic and witchcraft’ that many people fear; she writes about power, not just magical, and hope and fear. She writes about tolerance, loyalty, understanding, and true friendship. If people understood, truly understood, the books, then they would understand that and would not want to ban them. No book will teach your child to be a witch, so please get your head out of your ass for two seconds long enough to pay attention to what you are saying. No book will corrupt your child if you have raised them correctly.  Holbrook Jackson once said “Fear of corrupting the mind of the younger generation is the loftiest form of cowardice.” He is right. Those who fear such corruption of the younger generation, merely fear the fact that a younger generation might well become smarter than their predecessors.

“To prohibit the reading of certain books is to declare the inhabitants to be either fools or slaves.” – Claude Adrien Helvetius

Fear should not dictate your choices, and neither should blind prejudice and ignorance. That goes for more than just who you speak to or what you say. It applies to what you read and allow your children to read. Am I saying that your five year old should get her hands on your smutty Danielle Steele novel? Absolutely not, there are books not suitable for certain ages. What I am saying is that you shouldn’t ban a book because it might offend someone or because it mentions something you don’t believe in. So a book mentions homosexuality and you aren’t gay, big deal. That doesn’t make a book something to be banned and swept off the shelves. No book should be banned, no idea squelched, no knowledge forbidden. “An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.” Oscar Wilde was a brilliant writer, and I’m almost positive many would have his writings banned. But ideas must be powerful, and they must not be hidden.  To ban a book is to say “You cannot think for yourself, or form your own ideas about what you read so I must do it for you.” And that, readers, is wrong.

“All of us can think of a book… that we hope none of our children or any other children have taken off the shelf. But if I have the right to remove that book from the shelf – that work I abhor – then you also have exactly the same right and so does everyone else. And then we have no books left on the shelf for any of us.” Katherine Paterson once said, and she is right. The shelves of books must remain full, so that we may read and thus grow. Each book that is removed deprives our children and our future of ideas and knowledge. And when all the books are gone we will live in a world like George Orwell’s 1984, where the Thought Police may get us. I always think back to Fahrenhiet 451 a book that I read in high school and remains on my shelf to remind me. Books are not for burning, and to burn them is to give up freedom we so desperately need.

And finally there is the chief stupidity of banning books. That is the fact that banning a book drives us to read it, if only to see why it was banned. This semester in my Adolescent Literature course have read The Catcher in the Rye, and I still do not see the logic in banning, nor the reason for doing so. I actively seek out a book if it is banned, out of natural curiosity and rebellion. Tell a child not to do something, and that child will do it. Mark Twain once said “Adam was but human – this explains it all. He did not want the apple for the apple’s sake, he wanted it only because it was forbidden. The mistake was in not forbidding the serpent; then he would have eaten the serpent.” As humans we can’t resist the things that are forbidden to us, we seek out what cannot have and are told we must not do; it is a part of our natures. To ban a book is to ask us to read it.

I know I quoted a fair few people, but they are smart folks who know what they were talking about. Banning books is stupid and wrong. To ban a book is to violate freedom and to treat a person as though they are not smart enough to think for themselves. In conclusion to this very long entry, I leave you with this thought. Read a banned book today, no matter what it is, and exercise your freedom to think for yourself.

Quote of the Day: “The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame.” Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

I’m going to die living, not just existing

Currently Listening to: Sister Christian by Night Ranger
Currently Reading: Wolf Speaker by Tamora Pierce
Current Projects: Plotting Summer Adventures
Current Countdowns: 3 days until the end of the semester is official

Tonight I shall do a post that’s more personal and maybe a bit less snarky. I don’t know though, lately I’m like the queen of snarky, which can probably get really annoying, but you are the ones who choose to read what I post here. So here goes.

I guess the first thing that popped into your head was not pleasant when you read the title of this post. But the point is that this post is about living life, not just existing. And I’ll explain quickly what brings this sort of revelation about. One of the last books we read in my Children’s Fantasy class was The Giver, by Lois Lowry, and it’s never been one of my favorite books. But if you don’t believe a book can touch you, then you are very mistaken. I can’t stand the book, but it touched me, it hit home. One of the messages in the book is that its better to die really living, than to merely exist on the planet for a while. And that message is sinking in as I also realize that next year will be my last year at Middle, my last year of college, and I have wasted it as I wasted high school. Those years are meant to bring experiences and memories, but I have missed that. So from now on I’m going to live.

That means that next year I’m going to go to parties and celebrate. I’m going to get healthy and lose the weight because I’ve only got this one body to use. I’m going to stop stressing about the small things and relax. I’m going to convince Spoony that we need to spend these years before marriage really experiencing life before we settle down. I don’t want to be old and withered and looking back to say “We wasted those years. We could’ve been so happy; we could’ve had so many memories. But we threw it all out.” I want to look back and know I lived each moment for all it was worth. There’s a quote by Mother Theresa in my Words to Live by widget. “Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.” That means that the past is over, we are not promised tomorrow, so all we really have is today, we must live it for all we can. It does not matter that the ending may not be happily ever after. It isn’t important that we have a fairy tale. In Everafter, the last lines of the movie are very powerful to me. “By then, the truth of their romance had been reduced to a simple fairy tale. And, while Cinderella and her prince did live happily ever after, the point, gentlemen, is that they lived.” You see I’ve long sinced stopped believing in fairy tales and happily ever afters, but I know that the important thing is that I live.

I’m going to make my mark on this world; I’ll leave behind a legacy. I’m going to do great things with my life. I’m going to enjoy what I have and not worry about what I don’t have. I’m not going to let things stop me from living, even if it means everything has to change. This time has come for me to live. Standing in front of the mirror the other day I realized just how sad and boring I’d become, and I intend to change that.  I’ve got one life to live, and I won’t get another. So I’m going live it, really live it all. My life will no longer pass me by.

“Not just different, my dear — prettier!”

So I was listening to the radio and was shocked to hear that there is a Florida plastic surgeon has written a picture book for kids about plastic surgery. Called My Beautiful Mommy, the book focuses on a mother explaining her tummy tuck and nose job to her young daughter. “Mommy” also gets a boob job, but that is not mentioned in the text, merely shown by her obviously perkier and larger breasts in the pictures. The doctor actually admits that this is true, so don’t jump on me saying that it’s just an assumption based on nothing. I personally find the existence of such a book appalling for a number of reasons.

A book glorifying plastic surgery is just wrong, especially aimed at children. You can tell me all you want that it’s not glorifying surgery to change one’s appearance, that it is just to help parents explain what’s happening to children, but you are full of crap. This book shows a mother with an ordinary nose, normal breasts, and an already flat stomach, who wears belly shirts and tight pants, getting surgery to be more beautiful. The little girl tell her that she’s already beautiful, but “Mommy” dreams of being a beauty queen and assures her daughter that she needs to be prettier.

Let’s start self-loathing at an early age. It’s not enough that as teenagers and college students and even adults we are bombarded with images of so-called perfect women, let’s get to those small children too. Honestly, while the good doctor probably had the best of intentions, the book sends very dangerous and disgusting messages to kids. “Mommy didn’t feel pretty enough, so she went to the doctor and he fixed it.” “Mommy doesn’t have the perfect face and body she had before you were born, so she’s getting it fixed so she can be perfect again.” “Natural aging and body changes from being a mommy are bad and Mommy has to have them fixed.” “Mommy isn’t hot enough, so she’s going to have surgery to maker her hotter.” These are not things young girls should hear.

The focus on how beautiful the surgery makes “Mommy” is ridiculous. If the book is about how to tell children about the surgery and the down time that comes after, then there shouldn’t be this whole spielabout her being “the most beautiful butterfly” and stuff. The line that made feel sick was the one that I quoted in the title of this blog. It’s very clear that “Mommy” doesn’t feel pretty enough so she’s having this surgery. This is a terrible thing for kids to consider. Kids should not see messages that say that you must have surgery to feel pretty, or that your genetics aren’t good enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bashing getting plastic surgery. Hell, I’ve thought about it countless times; liposuction, maybe getting my scars fixed,  fixing my stupid nose. But I haven’t done it, and I’m glad I haven’t. If you feel the need to get cosmetic surgery, more power to you. But I don’t see pushing it on kids. I think that if you have kids and are getting plastic surgery, sure you should explain it to them. The shock and fear of a parent in bandages and seeming unwell can be terrible. But you should explain to them that it’s not for everyone, that it is not something you have to do to be beautiful. You should sit down with your kids and talk to them about what’s happening, not give them a book to make it easier on yourself. It’s a complicated thing, and it’s important that kids understand what’s going on. A parent should take responsibility for what they are doing and it’s effect on her, or his, children.

“Second to the right, and straight on till morning”

 “The way I flew? Do you know, Jane, I sometimes wonder whether I ever did really fly” “Yes, you did.” “The dear old days when I could fly!” “Why can’t you fly now, mother?” “Because I am grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget the way.” “Why do they forget the way?” “Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly.” ~Peter Pan, pg 222 

In case you didn’t catch it the title and opening quotes are in reference to Peter Pan and the location of Neverland. It’s sad but Peter Pan made me realize how jaded and cynical I’ve become. We read it for my children’s lit class, Children’s Fantasy Fiction, and I bawled at the end when Wendy had forgotten how to fly because she grew up. I’ve grown up too… I don’t remember how to fly anymore. And when Peter said he’d teach her how again, but she told him not to waste his fairy dust on her, I almost died. I won’t ever fly again. I’ve grown up and forgotten and can’t be retaught. I’ll never remember; I’ll have but fond memories of the days when I could. I want to fly away to Neverland and fight pirates with Peter… that sounds good right now. I want to remember how to get there and how to fly. Long ago I used to fight pirates with Peter. I used to go to Neverland and play with the Lost Boys. I want to go back there. “Second to the right, and straight on till morning” That’s where I’ll go.

But the point of this entry is that I know that many people have forgotten how to fly. They’ve stopped believing, and that’s very sad. I clapped loudest when I watched the play; I clapped for Tinker Bell, who I believed in with all my heart. But lately I’ve come to realize that my clapping has grown softer, my innocence has faded away. People all around me have stopped clapping; they’ve stopped believing, and that is a tragedy. They’ve forgotten Neverland and Peter, and Neverland is childhood and hope. Whether you believe it or not, J.M. Barrie was right. We all know Neverland and Peter; we all fly away with him and fought pirates and redskins and played with the Lost Boys, and eventually we all flew home and grew up. “On these magical shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.”  The main problem is that we will never landon the shores of that dreadful paradise again, where adventure would sweep us away, and we would be free and innocent. Neverland is not a safe place all the time, and our companion Peter Pan is careless and cruel at times, but it is a paradise to be certain.

Maybe it is that we grow up too fast now, achieving adulthood and abandoning Neverland before we should. Forgetting our old adventures as we discover the troubles and difficulties of adult responsibilities, which are much more difficult to battle than the pirates of our youth. Once upon a time we fought pirates and redskins, we defeated Captian Hook and watched as he fell to the crocodile. But we don’t remember that; we don’t remember Tiger Lily or the Neverbird. We’ve forgotten. And I cry for us, for our past. I do not wish to be Peter, who is still a little boy, but I do wish I could remember how to fly, just once, and head back to Neverland for another adventure.

Deep within us, there is a sprinkle of fairy dust and a happy thought, and that will let us fly. In the shadows there is a boy in a garment of green playing the pipes or brandishing a dagger. He’s crying as he tries to stick his shadow back on with soap or perhaps he’s crowing with glee and delight. Some night while you are sitting in your room, you’ll hear a crow and the window will blow open and a boy will drop in on the floor. He will be the same as ever, and he will have all his first teeth.  Now he might forget you from time to time, but you mustn’t forget him, for he will come back eventually. He is a careless little boy. Peter doesn’t change, we do. But if you listen closely you can hear him whispering to you.

“Just always be waiting for me, and some night you will hear me crowing.”

Lucky the Spy: Weekly Observations

Ok if you don’t get the reference in the title of this post I’ll make it clear. In Children’s Literature this week we are reading Harriet the Spy and so I’ve come up with an interesting idea for a weekly post in which I will detail my thoughts about some things I see or hear during the week. They may not be pleasant, and they may not be pretty, but I’d like to try this. Starting next week this post will be on Fridays or weekends, depending on my schedule, and I hope to keep this up for a while. But for this week I will just post today, unless I spot something interesting between today and Friday, in which case you will get two observation posts, lucky you.

Style, or lack there of: I’ve noticed that the scene style is getting more and more ridiculous. If this offends you, don’t read it, cause I don’t care. I noticed yesterday a girl with a hair style that looked as though she’d burned her hair out with bleach and heat styling, specifically straightening it. It was cut in layers, or at least I think it was her real hair could’ve been terrible extensions, that were choppy and poorly done, and it was super thin looking, dried out and fly away. Then she was using a Hello Kitty umbrella and wearing skin tight jeans and a black top with skulls all over it. Her eyes were coated in thick black eyeliner, done so it looked like ancient Egyptian make up. The guy she was with, I think it was a guy, was dress almost just like her with a similar hair cut, but without the eyeliner. I found this highly disturbing and disgusting. If this is supposed to mark them as different, they should really look around cause there are about a hundred people on campus who look just like them.

I don’t want to hear your music, I have my own: Almost everywhere I  go, whether it’s the BAS, the KUC, the library, or my classes, there is always the kid we will call “Music Kid”. Music Kid always has his or her mp3 player in their ears, with little ear-bud headphones, blaring their music so loud that you can hear it even if you are listening to your own music with the same kind of headphones. Not only that, but Music Kid is usually singing to song out loud so that everyone can hear it. They will then proceed to sit next to you while you are reading or working on a paper and get louder. You can ask them to turn it down, but they won’t be able to hear you so it is nearly useless to do so. Believe me I’ve tried. It annoys everyone, but apparently we are all powerless to stop it because the only time the music stops is when class starts.

How old are you anyway: I see people on campus who are supposed to be adults, and they act like children. They talk like two year olds, and it’s ridiculous. On my way to the library to do some work for my legal research class and this girl on her cell phone screeches in a shrill voice “Whatch doin’?” and then giggles like the typical four year old. That was followed by her nearly knocking me to the ground as she skipped merrily toward the library as well. Thankfully she was no where near where the group of students who were working on our assignment were working. But instead we had “Bookslammer Boy” who was apparently having difficulties with his work. Our group was quietly collaborating on a difficult assignment when we hear a loud slam from two tables down. This guy would flip through a book for two seconds then slam it down on the table and huff loudly. We politely asked him to stop, only to be rewarded with an insolent stare.