Prison of the mind

Political correctness is like being in prison without having bars. It is a prison of the mind, which uses guilt for bars and peer pressure for guards. Richard Lovelace once wrote a poem To Althea, From Prison about a man who believed that even though his body was in prison, his mind was still free. It makes me wonder what do you say of a people who's bodies are free but their minds are not?

Potter Stewart said, "Censorship reflects a society's lack of confidence in itself."

And Henry Louis Gates said, "Censorship is to art as lynching is to justice."

We live in a country that is supposed to be a culture of freedom, a shining citadel of truth and justice, a great dream of potential as people are allowed life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 

In many places through out the world people groan under the yoke of injustice. Their life and liberty are playthings to be taken away at the whim of tyrants and dictators for their petty amusement and happiness is such a fleeting dream that many of them fear to ever hope in glimpsing it through the misery that is their existence.

It is difficult for many to comprehend that such a life even exists coming from the point of view of having lived such a blessed existence. And then we allow our minds to be shackled by fear and guilt. We allow our prosperity to be preyed by upon by the parasites of debt and those who adhere willingly to this prison of thought are more than willing to act as guards to ensure that no one escapes.

"This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill -- the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill -- you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes." Morpheus The Matrix 1999 

To Althea, from Prison

BY RICHARD LOVELACE

When Love with unconfinèd wings

   Hovers within my Gates,

And my divine Althea brings

   To whisper at the Grates;

When I lie tangled in her hair,

   And fettered to her eye,

The Gods that wanton in the Air,

   Know no such Liberty.

When flowing Cups run swiftly round

   With no allaying Thames,

Our careless heads with Roses bound,

   Our hearts with Loyal Flames;

When thirsty grief in Wine we steep,

   When Healths and draughts go free,

Fishes that tipple in the Deep

   Know no such Liberty.

When (like committed linnets) I

   With shriller throat shall sing

The sweetness, Mercy, Majesty,

   And glories of my King;

When I shall voice aloud how good

   He is, how Great should be,

Enlargèd Winds, that curl the Flood,

   Know no such Liberty.

Stone Walls do not a Prison make,

   Nor Iron bars a Cage;

Minds innocent and quiet take

   That for an Hermitage.

If I have freedom in my Love,

   And in my soul am free,

Angels alone that soar above,

   Enjoy such Liberty.