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Coming up with book titles can be difficult, but this one was easy—I knew what I wanted to call it from the outset. But then, as soon as I saw the first copy of the book, I wished I had titled it "2084."
•••
What do smoke-free restaurants, seatbelts and airbags in cars, and bicycle helmets have in common?
Fifty years ago none of those things existed. People smoked cigarettes everywhere--even in hospitals. Cars had no seatbelts or airbags. And any kid dorky enough to wear a helmet while riding a bicycle would have been laughed off the street.
Today, Americans are safer than ever. Accidents, violence, and disease are way, way down. Every year we get safer and safer...and safer...
That's good, right?
I wonder. Being safe is good—to a point—but I sometimes think we are so obsessed with safety we miss out on much of what life has to offer. I mean, if you wanted to be really safe, you would eat nothing but oatmeal, kale and lentils. You would never play contact sports, or ride a skateboard, or go for a hike in the mountains, or speak to a stranger, or drive a car, or give birth to a child...or do much of anything at all.
What if this safety trend continues? What will it be like in another fifty years? How safe do we want to be? Will sneezing in public be considered assault? Will tricycles have airbags? Will overweight people be sent to forced-labor diet farms? Will kitchen knives bear warning labels? (Caution: This implement can cause cuts!) Will French fries be as illegal as crack coc aine?
Thinking about these things was what led me to write Rash , a sometimes funny, sometimes not funny book about a teen growing up in the "United Safer States of America," circa 2074, when pedestrians wear walking helmets, football has been banned, verbal abuse is a misdemeanor, and obesity is a felony.
And because just about everything is illegal, nearly 20% of the population is in jail, where they provide the manual labor that keeps the USSA running.
This is the page for people who think that if someone wrote an interesting book, they must therefore be an interesting person. Don't you know that if you like an author's work you should hope never to meet him (or her) in person? More than once, I have admired a writer and then, upon meeting him, discovered him to be a self-involved jerk with the personality of a rabid weasel.
The bad news? I’m nowhere near as interesting to you as you are to yourself, and probably even less interesting to you than your lint-filled navel. Nevertheless, I am compelled by various forces to share information about myself—such as my middle name (Murray), how I like my eggs cooked (poached, or gently scrambled with fresh black Perigord truffle, please), and whether or not I believe in God.
Originally posted by jude11
reply to post by Mcupobob
These laws are more about a money grab rather than safety.
More laws, more fines = more money for them and less for you.
This is why there are more and more ridiculous laws passed every day.
What do smoke-free restaurants, seatbelts and airbags in cars, and bicycle helmets have in common?