The ether is alive with the sound of, not music, but the protests of anyone with some brain.

A play has been banned, because the Board of Film & Theatre Censors (or whatever it’s called) has, in its infinite wisdom, decided that it should not be put on. The play is Stitching, of which I had heard nothing until recently and, after having heard a bit about it, it’s not one I would have thought I’d be desperate to watch.

Not to put too fine a point on it, it seems (and note the use of the word “seems”) to be an exercise in shocking for the sake of it. Depressing and dark and all that great stuff, with concentration camp victims as the object of solitary titillation and other fun exercises in message making. From what I gather, it’s not one of the most edifying theatrical experiences available.

But that is not the point.

The point is that a group of people has decided that I am not to have the choice of whether I watch this thing or not. It seems that these people, whoever they are, have some sort of superior brain function that lets them sit in judgment on what I, a mere mortal, can be permitted to glimpse with my own eyes and hear with my own ears.

Just who do these people think they are? Islamic Fundamentalist wannabes? Christian Fundamentalist wannabes, for that matter? What next, am I to be told I can’t read Anthony Burgess, lest my mind be corrupted for ever? Is it to be decreed from on high that I can’t write stuff that challenges the received wisdom about homosexual marriage or women priests or whatever?

Where is the line to be drawn? Which pig is more equal than others? Which number of legs is better than any other?

Clearly, there are limits. Exploitation of people unable to look out for themselves, obviously, is unacceptable, the imperative of protecting the vulnerable overturning the necessity of guaranteeing freedom of speech and expression, but precisely who was being exploited by this play? Precisely who was being protected by having it banned?

Precisely no-one, that’s who.

An “adults only” classification would have made it obvious that this was not a play for someone whose idea of theatrical entertainment comprises “The Sound of Music”. For that matter, it would have been easy to mandate that an explicit health warning should have been put out and warning the producers that if non-adults were found to have been admitted, they (the producers) would have been made liable at law.

But no, the only way to ensure that fine sensibilities were not affronted was to ban the thing. Freedom of expression be damned, the censors decided to shut the thing off at source, because they know best and there’s an end to it.

I recall, quite a few years ago, that a particularly fine production of “The Duchess of Malfi” met with some turbulence because someone had hoofed a crucifix across the stage. It was, to the prissy protestors, entirely irrelevant that within the context of the thing, kicking the crucifix was perfectly understandable. No, it was more important to the Philistines to pander to the lowest of the lowest of common denominators and demand that the production be messed around with.

Before we have some Lil’Elves writing in to make the point that this is what you get when the PN are in Government, incidentally, let me just remind them that mind-control and control-freakery were the watchwords of Socialist Government in the times of KMB and Mintoff, so let’s have none of your sanctimony, please.

Getting back to 2009, though, would the Board of Censors please resign? I’m not even sure they’re called that anymore, I thought their function was to classify things, not to decide what can and can’t be shown to adults.

Come on, pick up your papers and stuff, and leave. Now.

And the last one out please switch off the light.