By Peggy Tartaro,
Executive Editor

I'm of the first generation that grew up with television all the time, or at least until the channels (four US and two Canadian) signed off around 1 a.m. with their respective anthems. And, many years ago, I worked in the then-fledgling cable TV business, alternating between promising the moon ("you'll be able to pick whatever channels you want") to potential customers or apologizing ("we're working on that") to existing ones.

So I'm not one of those people like my friend Barbara who claim to "never" watch TV. I have a lot less attachment to shows than I used to and could probably go 29-51 hours without at least seeing what's on, but I like to think I'm a lot pickier than I used to be.

But the television I grew up with is a whole lot different than the offerings of today-or would be if you didn't count the endless reruns of the shows I grew up with.

I recently saw a television show I thoroughly enjoyed, even though I can't tell you the name of the program, because of editorial (i.e., my own) standards.

The Emmy-nominated Showtime production is called Penn & Teller's "B...S...," which, to save me typing all the ellipses, we'll now refer to as "BS."

Penn Jillette and his Partner-Without-a-First-Name Teller are usually described as "magicians" although their main shtick has always been debunking magic by showing how tricks are done, usually in the grossest way possible, preferably involving live rodents.

"BS" is a sort of larger debunking of myths and assorted sacred cows. The episode I saw was titled "Gun Control," and the loquacious Jillette and the silent Teller are-surprise!-firmly on the pro-gun side of things.

It was extremely refreshing (maybe even bracing considering the format and language) to see, for I think the first time I can remember, a program in which the balance of power was clearly on our side.

In addition to Jillette (and one can only assume Teller), pro-gun spokespeople were: the Second Amendment Foundation's Alan Gottlieb, author John Lott, Texas State Rep. Suzanna Hupp, Las Vegas furrier Mabel Murray, a group of Revolutionary War Re-enactors, including "George Washington," and the comedian Jackie Mason.

Hupp's personal story of her and her parents fateful lunch at Ludy's Cafeteria in Killeen, TX, is familiar to W&G readers.
Alan and Lott did their usual bang-up job.

"George Washington" was able to explain the central thesis of Penn & Teller's premise, that the original intent of the Founding Fathers was to insure-literally-that tyrants never reigned again.

Murray showed the cameras where she keeps a variety of firearms in her store-and on her person.

The antis fielded a much weaker team: columnist and author Roger Rosenblatt, Michael Beard of the Coalition to Prevent Handgun Violence, and Jim Kessler of Americans for Gun Safety (usually referred to as a "moderate" group, but which has yet to embrace any pro-gun position or find any anti one they didn't agree with).

Neither Kessler or Beard was particularly convincing, even, I think, if you agreed with them to begin with.

Poor Rosenblatt got the brunt of the "BS" duo's scorn, with Jillette referring to him as a "wuzz" at least a half dozen times, which he frankly brought on himself, by doing one of the finest portraits of an "Elite Liberal" I've ever seen.

The most arresting segment featured Jillette's modest proposal-demonstrated by withdrawing-rather unsafely-a large pink semi-auto from the front of his waistband and proclaiming his idea that every woman in America be issued a similar one.

Further, he didn't insist that every woman keep it-she could give it to another woman if she didn't want it.

Since, he explained, most violent crime is committed by men, and quite a lot of it against women, this would go a long way toward making everyone, but especially women, a whole lot safer.

If you're flipping through your cable channels and find the program (cable is nothing if not multiple airings of new and old programs) and don't mind the R-rating, you'll find the program delightful. You might even say "Bravo," (but that's a different network).

Peggy Tartaro

Photo © Copyright 1998 Nancy Floyd, used with permission.