The Musings of

Something full of magic, religion, bullsh*t.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

A license for love

If stupidity were snow, most legislative bodies would be ski resorts. Just ask Fitz-Hume over at BTQ who was recently asked by a state legislator to draft a bill repealing a federal law. While our state delegates, representatives, and senators are prone to passing stupid laws, they don't have anything on city and town councils. Local legislators generally get the double squeeze -- (1) they aren't, how shall I put this, of "Lincolnesque" stature, and (2) they are forced to live next to the people they represent, so I'm sure a lot of them get bitched at in the grocery store by old ladies who think there ought to be a stop light at every intersection and, damn it, why can't they do something about those skateboarders downtown? The long-and-short of this is that some of them pass unnecessary and ridiculous laws because, well, they have to do something and most of the good things have already been done (I refer to this as "Centinal's Theory of Legislative Inertia").

A good example of this problem is happening in scenic San Antonio, Texas. It appears that yesterday the city council down there unanimously approved an ordinance that (cough) exotic dancers must not only have permits, but must wear them while . . . um, performing.

The reasoning -- and I do use that word in it's broadest definition -- behind the ordinance is to "mak[e] it easier for police to identify dancers." Look, if your police officers can't walk into the local strip joint and immediately identify the roosters from the hens then you've got a bigger problem that unlicensed boobies, my friend.

But that's not the real issue here. Clearly, the majority of the good folks of San Antonio don't support the arts, as it were, and want to go all Democrat and regulate the industry into the ground. Unfortunately, there's a dangerous downside to the council's edict -- any idiot can get a dancer's real name (no, NDC, her name isn't really "Reb DeVille") and her address off her permit. I'm sure you've noticed this at your local hair stylist/barber while staring aimlessly at their barber permit while they attempt to make wine out of raisens. The thing is, there really isn't a big problem with people stalking their barber, but for some odd reason, people men want to get to know strippers in a very deep and intimate way and are willing to follow the course of true love all the way to their private residence to achieve that end.

Of course, there's already been a lawsuit filed in this matter, but there shouldn't have to be. I can only hope that the 11 councilmen who supported this thing didn't think of the ramifications of their vote, because the thought that they would put puritanical interests ahead of the safety of some of their constituents is just too ridiculous.
Centinel 11:39 PM #


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