Found this little nugget via Reason Express: “The Missouri legislature has outlawed taking pictures of animals in barns without an owner’s permission. The fear is that undercover reporters or animal rights activists could use the photographs to allege animal abuse.”
Great. Next, Big Government’ll be telling me I need permission to take tasteful photos of nude junior high school boys playing volleyball for my very popular “Nude Junior High School Boys Play Volleyball” calendar.
Big Brother is out there, man. And he’s watchin’ your ass. Fight the powers.
But isn’t this a case of Big Government protecting private business interests, against the interests of the people? Sort of like the way telemarketers are protected from having their phone numbers show up on Caller ID, so that they can call you with impunity at 9AM on Sunday morning–those companies (financial institutions most notably) petitioned Congress and received favorable legislation that allows them to anonymously invade your home at any time. So your cries about Big Government, in many cases, are really about the influence of private money on lawmakers. You support the flow of soft money from business to politicians, but cry 1984 when a particular “bought” legislation would seem to cross your line and violate your personal freedom–in this case, the right to snap a Polaroid of a cow. (Though mysteriously, when it comes to the individual’s right, say, to breathe clean air, you support industry’s right to purchase exemption from regulation, which leads to a far more serious assault on one’s “rights” than the barnyard photo ban. Seems that what’s good for the petrochemical goose should be good for the small-farm gander, no?)
I support the right to pollute against clean air? Really? I must be a real bastard, then.
But to play your game, how is it in the interests of “the people” to be peeking around in other people’s barns? It’s not. Do I think we need the legislation to tell us so? No, shotguns’ll do. The line about “Big Government,” though, was supposed to be facetious—as I’d hoped all that stuff about photographing nude junior high school volleyballers for a calendar would’ve made clear.
Guess not.