This past Saturday, I found myself with a rare hour of free time and control of the TV remote—a coveted prize in my household. The struggle to claim it is akin to the fierce competition seen in The Hunger Games; the strongest usually wins, and that’s never me, as my kids can be quite intimidating.
The remote was sitting unattended on the couch arm, so I took a chance. I kicked off my shoes, kicked back, and attempted to navigate the confusing array of buttons (which I admit, I’m not very good at). Eventually, I landed on the UFC 188 prelims. Don’t judge me; it was either that or another episode of a landscaping show on the Home & Garden channel. Watching fighters clash in the octagon seemed far more exciting than watching someone plant flowers.
As I lounged there, indulging in snacks and witnessing blood flying as one fighter pounded another, I noticed something odd: the incessant bleeping of the network censoring foul language. Words like “damn” and “shit” were being silenced, while two half-naked men were engaged in what can only be described as a brutal display of violence. There was blood everywhere—on their faces, their hands, and the mat—yet the bleeping was there to protect sensitive ears.
I understand it was 2:00 PM on a Saturday, a time when children might be watching. Many parents might want to shield their kids from bad language, thinking it could lead to delinquent behavior. But let’s look at the bigger picture: two men are literally fighting each other to the point of injury. I’ve seen less gore on The Walking Dead.
This is not staged violence; it’s real and unscripted. The fighters are genuinely hurt, but we’re more concerned about the impact of a few swear words than the spectacle of violence unfolding in front of our eyes. Are there truly people who are more disturbed by a curse word than by bloodshed? If so, I’m not sure I want to engage with them.
I’m not advocating for the censorship of UFC or similar events. I found myself captivated by the skill and athleticism displayed. However, I can’t help but question the absurdity of censoring language while allowing such graphic violence to air unfiltered.
If the goal of censorship is to prevent children from mimicking what they see, we should reconsider our priorities. If Little Johnny utters a curse word, the worst that may happen is a shocked reaction from Grandma. But if he tries to replicate a move he saw in the octagon, we might be looking at a trip to the ER.
It seems that the focus should be on the actual violence rather than the words. Words, in and of themselves, are not harmful. It’s the intent behind them that can be damaging. In a world rife with violence, perhaps we should be more concerned with children witnessing blood-soaked brawls as entertainment rather than filtering out a list of so-called inappropriate words.
Perhaps it’s time to consider enrolling Little Johnny in some martial arts classes. He could learn discipline and self-control, which might counteract the violence he’s exposed to. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to sign his sister up too—she might need to know how to defend herself against a surprise sleeper choke.
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In summary, the disparity between censoring language and allowing graphic violence to air raises significant questions about our societal values. While words can be hurtful, they pale in comparison to the potential influence of televised violence on impressionable minds.