I was watching an episode of Bones the other day. Which I like. No problems with the show itself. This particular episode was about the murder of some dude who was into "pony play." Which, if you didn't watch that particular episode of Real Sex, involves men and women who pretend to be horses and riders. They wear bits and saddles and the whole shebang. And then, they have sex.
Anyway, the episode opened with a dead body found in the woods. Dessicated skin, maggots crawling around gooey eye sockets, amputated feet. Then, Bones and her team start the investigation, which includes cutting open the stomach to see what the deceased ate last (answer: hay).
In other words, the most disgusting things you can imagine seeing were on Fox at 8:00pm. Family hour.
How did we get to the point where we're willing to tolerate, nay, encourage (through viewership) seeing the retch-inducing inner workings of the human body after it's been violated—and people freak out over the sight of an exposed nipple? How is seeing the unadorned interior of the body more acceptable than seeing its unadorned exterior? How is the feeling of disgust better than the feeling of arousal? Really, what's worse for your kid to watch: people having sex or people committing murder? Which would you rather they emulate? And if the question is one of morality—and you know who I'm talking to—which is the worse sin?
Again, no problems with Bones. Or CSI or Crossing Jordan or any of those gross-out procedurals. Just a problem with us. What the fuck is wrong with this country?
No comments:
Post a Comment