I briefly lost control of the remote during Saturday night's Nextel race, and in that interim saw a bit of the VH1 documentary on Heavy Metal. Aside from the nostalgia, and warm and fuzzy feelings it induced, I was happy to view footage of the PMRC hearings from the 1980's, specifically, Dee Snider at his best. I'm dying to see the entire footage of his testimony/deposition/defense/whatever position it was that he was supposed to play in that mockery of American democracy.
I'll take my hat off to Dee any day. He was able to define the role of art in clear and eloquent terms.
I remember the hearings and the whole hullabaloo well. It seemed that, during my youth, all of the things I enjoyed most were under fire, from music to (cough) playing dungeons and dragons, to playing assasin (an innocuous but fun game engineered by a high school friend which involved plastic guns with rubber pellets where the last man standing won half the profit from the entry fees). Ah, youth!
Anyhow, between that, and reading Orwell, Bradbury and Huxley, as I stated in a previous post, I could not help but be affected. Also, I love to write. I don't want to be censored. Looking back, it's no wonder that I chose that topic as the central theme of my YA novel.
Don't worry: I did get to see Harvick win (for the second time!) at Richmond. Boy, do I love cable.