Maybe I forgot to tell you, but did you know that I work for a censorship agency?
I’ve been working there a while, but I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. It was all a little hush-hush, a somewhat covert operation that seemed legit until more recently.
What I do is pretty simple. I receive ideas and words and proposed actions and hold them up to the Personal Ideal Image Matrix to see if they meet the criteria for acceptability. If it is risky, or likely to look bad, it gets the Big Red Stamp forbidding its implementation. Some days there are additional criteria: will it be too hard? will it make them feel bad? is it what they are expecting from me? does it make me sound smart?
I am my own censor.
Some people seem to have no filtering agency — they say what they think, they do what they want to do, no matter what anyone thinks. Maybe they would benefit from a censorship program, I don’t know.
But a lot of us would from giving our Internal Censor a long vacation in the tropics.
My Internal Censor was working overtime this week. There is a Personal Ideal Image to preserve, after all, and she was putting out all kinds of propaganda in effort to sustain this.
There were memos about blogging expectations, work expectations, relationship expectations. There were pieces written by her that sounded nothing like me. I don’t know why my voice wasn’t good enough, but somehow she felt the need to cut me off and say what she thought instead. I was mid-conversation when she stepped in to help the other person accomplish their Personal Ideal Image agenda, instead of allowing me to tell them what they maybe needed to hear.
So since my dear Internal Censor has put in so much time lately, I told her to take some time off. And while she’s away, here’s what me and my kids are going to do after school:
>> Step 1: Go buy popsicles.
>> Step 2: Go to popular park on hot day.
>> Step 3: Set up a table and a sign.
>> Step 4: Give away popsicles.
It’s something I’ve wanted to do in one form or another for a while and with my censor gone (“People will think you’re weird. Including your husband.” “They will probably think you are trying to poison them.” “They will stand from a distance, point their fingers and laugh at you.” “You will waste $50 on popsicles because no one will take them from you.”) — it seems like a good day to do it.
We’ll see what happens. I will probably die of embarrassment and shame — that’s what the autopsy will reveal — and if I do, then go ahead and disregard all of this.
But if I come back and had a good time, then you have to promise to give your Internal Censor a day or two off too. Call it a Censorship Vacation Day and see what happens.