It’s 68° in my home right now, 4° outside, Fahrenheit, both readings. Very comfortable. I wouldn’t dare publish what Charlie Hebdo published–never, never, never. Wife, three kids, career (of sorts), etc.
The pen, however, is still mightier than the sword, no matter which side of the muzzle you’re on, but the price just got higher. The price for the pen’s might just saw a spike because it is evident–I write in confidence–that Western governments will not protect the freedom to wield the pen. The very next person to pick up the pen will find it quite a bit heavier against the balance of the scales. The offices at Charlie Hebdo were already wired with sophisticated security measures, and its cartoonists had bodyguards, but the premises were not fortified. Is fortification next? How much will that cost?
How did he put it? “I’d rather die standing”? He did, I hope. Perhaps his standing to is a crie de guerre to arouse passions in men and women that are too cool, too institutionalized. It’s awfully cold outside. Should we all rather die? How does courage work? How does it actually proceed so that I can offend and be offended without fear of the ultimate bodily reprisal? And (let’s drop the kayfabe for a moment) so that I can condemn and be condemned, reject and be rejected, by means of the pen?
Won’t I lose too much comfort if I somehow enter the breach? Isn’t that for someone else to do? This is all terribly confusing.