I have criticized institutions of
higher learning for creating safe spaces to protect sensitive students from
ideas or speech that they might find offensive. Snowflakes, I’ve called these
fragile souls. Well, I’m afraid I need my safe spaces, too, because I am
offended by the pervasive immorality of our entertainment industry.
Two seasons ago I began watching a
show called “Designated Survivor,” a series about a good man who becomes
president of the United States after the Administration and Congress are wiped
out by a terrorist act. I thought it was a good show. I watched the second
series as well, although it lacked the drama of the first. I thought the third,
which I started watching last week, would be better. I was wrong. I was not
only disappointed—I was offended.
The third season of “Designated
Survivor” had become Hollywood’s latest propaganda for non-judgmental tolerance
of moral depravity. By the end of the third episode, viewers had been treated
to a wide range of fornication: between a Chief of Staff and his mistress,
between a female campaign manager and a gigolo, plus a Vice-Presidential
candidate two-timing his live-in girlfriend with a White House staffer, To top
it off, the show lingered on the orgasmic coupling of two black gay men. I shut
off the TV and will never watch another episode.
Call me a prude, a racist, and a
homophobe, if you will. But I was disgusted by what I saw and upset with myself
for allowing such garbage to pollute my safe space.
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