And yet, the dog still hunts—
Had a weird experience over a year ago or so, watching television: one of those commercials came on. You know. A cross-section of America in natural light, looking with simple, quiet pride directly into the camera’s slow-mo pan, a subdued but stirring “America the Beautiful” jangling sweetly under an earnest voice-over. Thing of it was, I was arrested, sat up, jaw dropped, my shrivelled little heart growing three sizes all at once. Because what the voice-over was saying was this:
I believe there’s a reason we are born with free will.
And I have a strong will to decide what’s best for my body, my mind, and my life.
I believe in myself.
In my intelligence, my integrity, my judgement.
And I accept full responsibility for the decisions I make.
I believe in my right to choose—without interrogations, without indignities, without violence.
I believe that’s one of the founding principles of our country.
And I believe that right is being threatened.
The greatest of human freedoms is choice.
And I believe no one has the right to take that freedom away.
And I thought to myself, damn. Propaganda works. —Of course, the choir always likes to be preached to, but still. It felt good, you know?
I had another of those moments, just now. We’re lounging around, doing a note-taking, idea-sketching, Thai-take-out-snarfing, muscat-drinking, Pym’s-nibbling day, with videos, the Spouse and I. There’s a La Femme Nikita marathon on Oxygen!, and while neither of us ever got into the show, it’s a fine enough thing to have on in the background between flicks. Anyway. Commercial break, and here’s a simple little commercial from Familyplanet, telling us there’s a difference between hope and despair, and that there’s hope yet for a future where people around the world can have the tools and the knowledge they need in their own hands to plan for the families they want, to enable them to negotiate one of the contingencies of life, and not be at its mercy.
And I had another one of those weird, unsettling, moments where I agreed wholeheartedly with what a commercial was telling me.
I mean: if it really were as bad as some say, don’t you think the choir would be preached to just a little more often? —Or maybe we’re just playing it cagey. Trying not to tip our hand. Is that it?
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