By Daniel Rigney
The armchair philosopher Archie Bunker observed that the very survival of civilization depends on our capacity to stifle ourselves. (He might have meant ‘censor ourselves,’ or ‘edit ourselves,’ or ‘redact ourselves,’ or simply ‘keep our mouths closed.’)
Bunker was right. If I may be dangerously honest for a moment, there really is no such thing as free speech in a civilized society. If speech were truly unrestrained by any concern for consequences, there would be no unspoken thoughts, and we would soon descend into a sea of bitter acrimony and recrimination, followed by violent anarchy and the destruction of the human species. Or worse.
Yet something in us yearns to express our deepest selves fully and freely, unleashed from the tethers of outer and inner constraint. Dr. Freud called this wild, untamed something the ‘id.’ The ‘it.’ The ‘thing.’ The beast within.
Happily, I’ve recently discovered a way to have my civilization and flout it too. I can be civil in written discourse and yet unbounded in the expression of my deepest sentiments. What I’ve discovered is a Word add-on known as the redaction tool.
This feature is normally used by powerful organizations to selectively censor or hide sensitive information in public documents. I'm using it to censor myself.
With the redaction tool, I can write any ''''''''''' thing I please and no one will be offended. I just have to remember to redact my document before I click “Send” or “Publish.” Out will come a sanitized, self-bowdlerized version of what I really think, suitable for viewing by people of all ages and cultural creeds. Even narrow-''''''''''''''' jack''' '''s like my boss can’t object to my office memos now.
And while we’re on the subject of the workplace, let me tell you about my co-workers. They make the massively dysfunctional office in the Dilbert comic strip look like a '''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' by comparison.
There. I’m feeling freer already. No harm. No foul. No Freudian slip. No pink slip.
Thank you, redaction tool, for saving civilization. And think you for saving my sorry ''''''.
Danagram
P.S.: This is a work of whimsical fiction. In real life I don’t even have a boss or co-workers. In your workplace, however, similar uses of the redaction tool may be NSFW.
The armchair philosopher Archie Bunker observed that the very survival of civilization depends on our capacity to stifle ourselves. (He might have meant ‘censor ourselves,’ or ‘edit ourselves,’ or ‘redact ourselves,’ or simply ‘keep our mouths closed.’)
Bunker was right. If I may be dangerously honest for a moment, there really is no such thing as free speech in a civilized society. If speech were truly unrestrained by any concern for consequences, there would be no unspoken thoughts, and we would soon descend into a sea of bitter acrimony and recrimination, followed by violent anarchy and the destruction of the human species. Or worse.
Yet something in us yearns to express our deepest selves fully and freely, unleashed from the tethers of outer and inner constraint. Dr. Freud called this wild, untamed something the ‘id.’ The ‘it.’ The ‘thing.’ The beast within.
Happily, I’ve recently discovered a way to have my civilization and flout it too. I can be civil in written discourse and yet unbounded in the expression of my deepest sentiments. What I’ve discovered is a Word add-on known as the redaction tool.
This feature is normally used by powerful organizations to selectively censor or hide sensitive information in public documents. I'm using it to censor myself.
With the redaction tool, I can write any ''''''''''' thing I please and no one will be offended. I just have to remember to redact my document before I click “Send” or “Publish.” Out will come a sanitized, self-bowdlerized version of what I really think, suitable for viewing by people of all ages and cultural creeds. Even narrow-''''''''''''''' jack''' '''s like my boss can’t object to my office memos now.
And while we’re on the subject of the workplace, let me tell you about my co-workers. They make the massively dysfunctional office in the Dilbert comic strip look like a '''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' by comparison.
There. I’m feeling freer already. No harm. No foul. No Freudian slip. No pink slip.
Thank you, redaction tool, for saving civilization. And think you for saving my sorry ''''''.
Danagram
P.S.: This is a work of whimsical fiction. In real life I don’t even have a boss or co-workers. In your workplace, however, similar uses of the redaction tool may be NSFW.
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