Carterwrites

“We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the constitution says, but everyone made equal . . . A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man’s mind.” Fahrenheit 451.

What if our democratic nation, this shining city on a hill failed to function as a beacon for the freedom we so hardily espouse? What if we lost our independence not because it was taken by force, but because it was consciously surrendered by apathy? The quote which opens this entry addresses man’s failure to value intellectual authenticity over the non-threatening ease of emptiness. Censorship, which is taken to an extreme in Fahrenheit 451, is a device that, as history can attest, has the power to disarm an entire people.

It is because of the enormous threat censorship holds over independent thought that responsible citizens need to actively and jealously guard their right to free speech. This week’s assignment in Mass Media & Society was to address a case of attempted censorship and assess its validity. I have always been intrigued by the various movements across the country to ban or censor the use of certain books in schools, and was recently shocked to learn that Fahrenheit 451 was among the accused. The Orange County Register reported a censorship battle in an Irvine school over the book’s offensive language, and deletecensorship.org exposed a similar struggle that ended in Fahrenheit 451’s removal from a high school reading list in Foxworth, Mississippi.

A book that encourages readers to shake off their complacency and awake to the realities of a delicate freedom has been attacked on the grounds of objectionable content. The irony here is too rich. Are we really to the point where literature that inspires action is a threat? And if so, then we should be consuming such works with a furor. Novels like Fahrenheit 451 are of an interesting genre, painting a future of dystopia, I believe, in an attempt to avoid such a reality.

Some concerned Americans seem to have taken away unintended lessons from the novel. Rather than identifying with the protagonist and his need to seek unfiltered truths, a movement took action to resemble the flat homogeneity of a sheltered and censored society. In ignorance, fear, or insecurity, a vociferous few took their cue from the novel’s book burning firefighters, and attempted to protect today’s youth from its radical messages. Thank goodness they failed.

When we begin silencing voices of dissent, ignoring the revisionist, and tiptoeing around controversial issues to avoid offending a faction’s sensitivities we risk entering the proverbial slippery slope; possibly leading to a failure to exercise constitutional rights. We will unconsciously erode principles that, as James Madison made clear in the Federalist Papers, were meant to protect not only the minority from the majority, but the majority from the dangers of a powerful minority.

I hope that those who called for censorship of books will someday sit down and read a few. That they will allow themselves to come to an independent decision with careful scrutiny of each work’s conclusions and merits, then allow others the opportunity to do the same. Fahrenheit 451 would be an excellent place to start.  At 88 years old, the author, Ray Bradbury would most likely be the first to say that it is never too late to reexamine your assumptions. No one should become so insulated as to lose their awareness and idly watch the world transform around them as books disappear from once crowded shelves. I believe that by speaking out against the gradual acquisition of freedoms, even in the seemingly benign form of literary censorship, we can keep the dark future painted by Bradbury within the pages of a book. Let’s keep it fiction.

If you have read and appreciated Fahrenheit 451, then I would also highly recommend A Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood, and of course, George Orwell’s classic, 1984.

Scientists have decoded a full set of cancer genes, a breakthrough which could very possibly lead to the isolation of key genetic markers and lend insight into the mysterious phenomenon of cellular mutation. This could be an incredible step for the medical community. It has the potential to open new doors in international research and translate into effective personalized cancer treatments for families ravaged by the disease.

I am writing in a spirit of critical exploration of mainstream media’s science coverage. Do they sensationalize stories to achieve top circulation and profit, or cautiously evaluate the validity and source of released information? As prompted by my assignment this week, I will attempt to answer the above question within the frame of Denise Grady’s article “Scientists Decode Set of Cancer Genes” on The New York Times online edition.

After thoroughly reading Grady’s story, I have come away impressed by her ability to present complex material in an accessible yet accurate form, while maintaining academic distance and objectivity. From her opening statement, Grady was careful to qualify her assertions and avoid false promises by reporting only “on a set of mutations that may have caused the disease or aided its progression.”

I appreciated rather than filtering the facts entirely through a personal lens, Grady relied heavily upon direct quotes from experts and researchers alike. Additionally, the article was free from broad, sweeping predictions as she relayed the facts and provided the reader with a foundation from which to interpret the findings.

If the article had been a construct for storytelling and written with the sole aim of profit, then I would have lacked the knowledge to comprehend, or even contextualize its significance. I am extremely pleased that Grady provided a scientific refresher for those of us who have long departed from our high school biology days. She plainly but intelligently explained possible ramifications of the study, explored the history of cancer treatment, and gave the reader tools to independently analyze the findings. All of this Grady accomplished without a trace of condescension. Impressive.

Grady’s writing was not free of enthusiasm, a characteristic that could be interpreted as unwarranted for research that is only one step alongside thousands in the journey toward a cure. There is some evidence of cherry picking, with nearly every quote affirming the great potential of, as Doctor Richard K. Wilson, senior author of the study called it, “holy grail sort of stuff.” Despite such arguments, I am pleased by the modesty with which Grady presented the story—a story that could easily have been sensationalized beyond recognition.

Several years ago, my mom had a breast cancer scare that, after weeks of testing, was proven to be a false alarm. At that time, my family underwent a tremendous amount of stress, and we joined in empathy with the millions across the globe affected by the disease. I can personally attest to the desperation with which you pray for a breakthrough and call for healing in the name of God, in the name of science. During those terrifying two weeks, I would have been extremely malleable to the manipulations of the press. The release of an unprecedented study such as this could easily be misrepresented, capitalizing upon the deep emotional power cancer holds over individuals, families, and the public at large. My respect for the New York Times, and especially for Denise Grady, is greatly increased by this excellent example of professional and restrained reporting. 

I swear he just stepped out of a trailer park. Heaven’s highest rent trailer park. His polyester robes flow, his synthetic white wig gently floats upon an artificial wind, and with a shining electric guitar he sings praises to…milk. Yes milk.

It’s disturbing, really.

And what exactly is it? A branded community called White Gold is White Gold. A leading ad campaign meant to encourage today’s youth that milk is more than nutritious and delicious, it is downright cool. This week’s assignment led me to www.whitegoldiswhitegold.com, as we were asked to explore an online advertising community meant to target an audience to the extent that they seek exposure to the product as entertainment.

To lose the appalling Jack Black, Steven Tyler, Michael the Arch Angel hybrid, I clicked an icon at the top of the screen. Instead of sweet escape, McNasty was back; this time transformed into a loincloth wearing Tarzan with a veritable pelt of chest hair. His message was basically the same as before: strong teeth, strong bones, strong bod.

So by now I’m supposed to be overcome with desire. No, not for the musical spokesman, but for the delightful goodness straight from the cow’s udder. Milk. Surprisingly, the converse has happened. I am actually ashamed that I ever poured a glass to accompany my cookie, that I used to take pride in a milk mustache, and that once upon a time my mother produced some especially for me.

The website plays on tired themes that appeal to young teenagers and frat boys alike. The worse the hair, tackier the songs, and random the raunch, the more successful the sell. But I am still confused as to why the “got milk” campaign is taking such an elementary approach with lyrics like “the way to tame the white tiger, is to set the milk beside her”. Is that supposed to gross me out? It kind of does, although I am confident it is just another empty and pointless verse meant to rob me of my time and prod my subconscious into wanting some dairy.

Let me repeat, it failed. I do not want milk. Not now, not for a long time.

Sure, I laughed when I visited White Gold is White Gold, I also cringed. I got my fill a little too quickly, closed my laptop, switched on the T.V. and was welcomed by an iPod commercial. Ah the sweet sophisticated class of Apple. They make white beautiful.

Now to be fair, I will admit that I have never been milk’s biggest fan; at least, not since 3^rd grade. Ben Atchison, the class science geek, and therefore a favorite classmate of mine, told me about the percentage of milk composed of dead skin cells sloughed from the udder walls. I remember the strong urge to gag as my favorite childhood drink became a daily horror.

This advertising campaign could have been an opportunity to refresh milk’s image. Failure. Udder failure. Now, maybe if they’d convinced Jude Law to be the milkman I would be a heck of a lot more thirsty.