Ten years ago, Raiola—senior editor for Mad magazine—visited Utah County with his traveling program about our long national war against free speech. “People said, ‘They are gonna hate you,’” recalls Raiola by phone from his New York City office. “‘They are gonna string you up from your balls.’ Then I got there, and they were wild—one of the greatest audiences I’ve ever had.”
Kansas, on the other hand—there’s a different story. “Some pro-censorship directors on the board of the library don’t want me to come,” he says of a planned heartland stop. “I should say that again: some pro-censorship directors on the board of the library. Where do you even begin to go with that?”
It could become yet another anecdote for The Joy of Censorship, a multimedia combination of history lesson, comedy performance and call to arms that Raiola has been presenting in some form for 15 years. Drawing on events ranging from the attack on publisher William Gaines’ horror comics of the 1950s to post-9/11 restrictions, Raiola explores assaults on freedom of speech from every possible angle.
Inevitably, that means he risks offending people—and he doesn’t seem particularly troubled by that idea. “People think that offensive speech should be banned,” Raiola says. “As if the Constitution had an ‘offensive exception’ to the First Amendment.”
One potentially touchy recent example Raiola addresses involves the response to comedian and Seinfeld alum Michael Richards’ infamous onstage racial tirade, involving a certain “n-word.” “There are comedy clubs around the country that have banned the word,” Raiola says. “It has been used by comics in the past to expose and fight racism. [Richard] Pryor’s routine was ‘SuperN—r’—and not ‘SuperNegro’—for a very particular reason.
“There may be people who walk out … when I use the word, which admittedly has a terrible history,” he continues. “[But] I don’t censor myself in my censorship show. I don’t use euphemisms. When I want to say ‘n—r’ I don’t say ‘the n-word.’ I make it clear that I have the right to use any word, all the vowels all the consonants.”
Raiola would probably recognize the irony of a story about censorship having to disguise that “n-word,” and Raiola himself has been on television and radio enough to know that different media have to play by different rules. As a staffer of a national magazine, he has to play by those rules himself. “When Mad put out its famous ‘middle-finger’ cover, a lot of mom-and-pop shops decided not to distribute it,” Raiola says. “And that was their right. [Mad has] a product, an audience, an understanding of what their sensibilities are. I don’t think of that as censorship.”
The slope, however, is a particularly slippery one, Raiola believes, particularly in an era of corporate consolidation. The NC-17 rating may not be legal censorship, but its economic impact—on newspaper advertising, theatrical bookings, Blockbuster Video shelves—serves as de facto censorship. Broadcast television networks’ fear of FCC fines or viewer backlash leads to removing certain programs from the air. The ire of religious conservatives led to the editing of potentially offensive comments by Sally Field and Kathy Griffin at last month’s Emmy Awards.
But where it would be easy to despair, Raiola—whose background also includes stand-up comedy, theater and a stint with the National Lampoon—chooses to find the bitter humor in the situation. “For me, when you get into the psychology of this stuff, it’s hysterically funny,” he says, “particularly when you point out the hypocrisy. It’s an endless source of joy for me.”
“Endless,” unfortunately, appears to be the correct word, and Raiola thinks that the threat to free speech is at a particularly high level historically. “We are a culture afraid of the word,” he notes. “And when those words are put together to form opinions? Hoo-boy!”
JOE RAIOLA: THE JOY OF CENSORSHIP @ Main Library, 210 E. 400 South, Thursday Oct. 4, 7 p.m. 524-8200