Censorship; The Compression of Art

Censorship; the compression of art



If you were to visit the American town of Virtue, you would probably
find it very pleasant at first. Neat, with houses that always seemed to have
that clean, freshly painted look. Manicured lawns that looked as if a huge
length of green velvet had been attached to the ground.

But if you were to buy one of those pastel-coloured houses and become a
resident of Virtue after knowing the outside world then you’d probably acquire
a very different opinion of the place after living there for a few months. In
fact, you’d probably be driven over the edge as the bible-belt looped itself
around your neck, tightening like a noose until you suffocated.

Sienna Blacklust was only two years of age when her parents and herself
moved to Virtue. They seldom or nearer to never left Virtue. The town had every
facility you could ever wish for, and the Blacklusts had no family outside of

It was a very holy sort of place in a lot of ways and very radical in
most ways. Art wasn’t thought in the schools, and English was only thought in a
grammatical manner. No creative writing or reading of ‘evil’ books.

Most of the children in Sienna’s school had been born and raised in
Virtue. They had no idea what the outside world was like.

                                    Sienna, now
fourteen, hadn’t much of an idea of this ‘outside world’ either. She just had a
slight dislike of Virtue, like a feeling that she didn’t belong there, and some
very interesting ideas in her head.

                  Writing was something she
liked the idea of. All the books in the classroom’s bookshelf were either
portions of the bible illustrated with pictures and large print, or moral
filled stories of mealy-mouthed, ‘well-brought-up’ children spouting biblical
quotes. They seemed like old men and women though they were teenagers. They had
a stiff, formal way of talking to each other.

                              Not Sienna’s kind
of book, needless to say. Her stories, which were scribbled on pulled-out
sheets of her school notebooks, were full of fictitious tales of fantasy
worlds, where wild, tearaway teenagers were dragged into worlds of dark
enchantment and often ended with several dramatic deaths.

Sienna had one very good inspiration of a tearaway; a girl named Desiree
who attended her school.

Desiree was a fierce and fiery young girl of
Sienna’s age. Desiree was well known in the school for her shrieking fits and
bursts of anger during lessons. Her dress style was distinctive. She had a head
of wild and tangled ebony curls. Her eyes were deepest, darkest, most infinite
and frightening black-blue, reflecting her anger and spirit like mirrors of her
soul. She was thin, with a whip-like strength about her. Her unique fashion
sense infuriated parents and teachers alike. Deliberately frayed denim shorts
over deliberately torn black fishnet tights and Doc Marten boots of every
colour and variety. Her tee shirts were loose fitting with bold and violent
slogans she’d scribbled across the front and back of them in black permanent
marker. She was often ordered to turn these shirts inside out but never did.
She had an emerald stud through her nose. This stud caused more conflict than
anything else did. Desiree adored it though. Her fashion accessories, the stud
and most of her clothes had come from shops outside of Virtue. Not many people
dared go back to the outside world. They were clueless in a lot of ways, as
newspapers and magazines and many ‘evil’ books weren’t sold in Virtue, as the board
of governors believed that they would cause corruption. Desiree often ditched
school for trips to ‘proper cities.’ She often attracted an audience in the
school-yard, the half-rebellious minority of the ‘clones’ wanting her to give
them the details of her experiences of hitching rides to get into towns to buy
clothes. Sienna was always part of the audience, listening attentively, loving
Desiree’s rebellious adventures.

The End

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