//------------------------------// // Protect The Foals! Part 2. (Ponyville, Equestria) // Story: Life Is Grey // by redandready45 //------------------------------// J-Wash sat on the simple leather couch in the apartment he rented in Ponyville North, the new community created to deal with the migration of humans and Ponyville's explosive growth. He eschewed his DJ outfit, in favor of a standard white dress shirt and some dress pants. It was the night before he was set to debate with Spoiled Rich, and he was working on his pre-prepared statements and answers. In front of him were vegetarian ours-d'oeuvres he had prepared for his guest. He heard a knock on the door. "Yes?" J-Wash uttered. "It's me, Octavia," an oddly British-sounding voice said. J-Wash rose from his couch and opened the door for the pony cellist . "Thanks for coming," J-Wash said happily, welcoming the grey pony in. "Why exactly are you helping someone like me out?" J-Wash asked. "You seem to have a lot of bread." "A lot of bread," Octavia said with confusion, tilting her head slightly. "I mean, you seem to have a lot of class," muttered J-Wash as he ushered Octavia into his small living room. "I would think you were one of those pony elitists telling me what I can and can't play." "Well, yes I am not a fan of your music," Octavia said as she jumped onto J-Wash's couch. "But, as an artist, I have a deep respect for the arts. It would be hypocritical of me not to defend free expression when others have also criticized me. Besides I would do anything for my dear Vinyl." She glanced over at the papers on the table next to the refreshments J-Wash put out. "May I see your notes?" Octavia asked. "Sure," J-Wash said, handing his papers to the grey pony. Octavia looked them over for a few minutes. She narrowed her eyes in deep thought. "Let's hit the ground running. The first thing you need to correct is your vernacular." "Vernacular?" "The expressions and slang you use," Octavia said simply. "J-Wash-." "That's just my stage name," J-Wash said with a welcoming smile. "You can call me Jamal if you want." "Jamal," Octavia said. "You can't express your viewpoint if the residents of Ponyville don't understand your words." She tapped her hoof on his papers. "Remember that while Ponyville is growing as never before, many Ponyville residents are still insular fellows who won't understand the vocabulary you use in Chicago." Jamal heard this and nodded. "OK," Jamal said with a nod of his head. "What else?" Octavia looked uneasy. "Well," Octavia said. "You haven't properly explained why the songs you play are so," Octavia hesitated to answer, "violent and anti-authority. I wouldn't lie if I didn't find your words troubling." "What's there to explain. The police are the real criminals," Jamal said. Octavia narrowed her eyes. "In your world perhaps, but here in Equestria, their is a strong connection and mutual respect between ponies and authorities. Both magical and personal. And you must justify why you play music that is so anti-authority." "Alright," Jamal said, nodding his head. "So for the next hour, I'll pretend to be a Ponyville civilian. Explain why you feel your music is acceptable despite the violent words." The Ponyville town pavilion, which was normally used to host town events and parties, had a debate stage set up. Surrounding it were a crowd of ponies, humans, and several members of the pony and human press. On one side of the stage was Spoiled Rich, while on the other side was J-Wash, both of them sitting in simple wooden chairs behind podiums with microphones attached. The former wore a luxurious purple dress, while the latter was clad in a sharp-business suit. Spoiled looked at J-Wash with snarling contempt, while J-Wash looked at Spoiled with amused defiance. In the center of the stage was Pipsqueak, who was sitting at a small wooden table with microphones and cameras. The Trottingham migrant had become a journalist for the Ponyville Gazette in his early adulthood. When humans arrived and brought television, and his charmed accent made him one of Equestria's first TV journalists. Today, he was acting as the debate's moderator. The crowd was filled with idle chatter from the human and pony spectators whose chatter died down at the clock neared 6 PM and the debate began. "Good evening," Pipsqeak said as the camera came on, putting on a trademark journalist smile. "I'm Pipsqueak. You are watching the Ponyville Music Debate. Sponsored by the Equestria Commission on Community Debates! Tomorrow, Ponyvillians will be voting on a referendum allowing for the creation of Ponyville Music Board, tasked with the regulation of radio music in the name of moral decency. Tonight will be a debate between Spoiled Rich, chairpony of the Protect the Foals League who has backed the referendum, and Jamal Harold Washington, a DJ from KPNY Radio who opposes the referendum." "Before we begin our questioning, we will allow each of the participants one minute to make an opening statement," Pipsqueak said. "We flipped the coin, and Madame Rich won." Spoiled smirk became even more pronounced as she rose from her chair and trotted toward the front of the stage. "As a wife and mother, I understand the struggle to raise a family, care for a household, and provide life lessons for my dear foal," Spoiled Rich began. In the audience, many traditional mares nodded their heads in approval, while Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes in disgust. "I truly understand the heart and soul of Ponyville," Spoiled said, "I understand the importance of family values and guarding one's foals against corruption and impropriety. That is why, to preserve our families and our traditions, we must allow the residents of Ponyville to push away music that does not...comport to their values," Spoiled said, before returning to her chair. "Mr. Washington," Pipsqueak said. "You may make your opening statement." J-Wash rose from his chair and walked over to the microphone at the center of the stage. "In both American society and pony society, I find that there is often a debate over what is considered good taste and decency whenever a new kind of music comes out," Washington began, his deep voice becoming very soulful. "In this debate, our belief in free speech and liberty give way to fear and paranoia. Our rights are kicked apart by those who use blind panic to further their own agendas. Music that is provocative is, to me, a sign of a healthy society, and those who seek to limit are rights are those who must be feared," Jamal finished. An applause from younger ponies and humans in the audience rang out. "Now we'll begin with our questions," Pipsqueak said. "We asked Ponyville residents to submit their questions to us in advance. Out of random, we've selected ten questions, five for each side. We will permit those who submitted the questions to ask them out loud, as well as a follow up question and some limited debate for one minute." Pipsqueak gestured to the ten ponies and humans sitting on bleachers to the right of the stage. "Our first question is for Spoiled Rich. It comes from Jonathan Brinks, a schoolteacher from Camden, New Jersey." The bald, suited man walked up to the podium and took the microphone. "Mrs. Rich," Mr. Brinks asked the upper-class pony. "What do you say to those who claim that you are stifling freedom of expression with your proposal for a censorship board?" "You're twisting my words," Spoiled Rich said. "I am not censoring, I am protecting foals from dangerous influences with a Musical Safety Board." "So you are saying that you don't see your Board as suppressing freedom of expression?" Mr. Brinks asked again. "How can there be freedom if anarchy is promoted by violent music," Spoiled Rich said. "I feel that there can be no half measures for the safety of our children." Brinks, having gotten the answer, returned to his seat with a somewhat unsatisfied tone. "OK, our next question is from a local Ponyville resident named Daisy, a local flower vendor," Pipsqueak red from the list. The pink Earth Pony with green hair rose from the bleachers and trotted up to the podium. "My question is for Mr. Washington," the mare asked J-Wash. "Do you support foals tearing up the community and disobeying their parents?" "That is a trick question," J-Wash replied with a smirk. "I will not respond to it." "See," Spoiled said into her microphone and pointing at J-Wash . "This brute cannot accept his poisonous influences." "Have you smelled your own breath," J-Wash replied with a small smile. Some ponies and humans in the audience chuckled at that. Diamond Tiara struggled to suppress a laugh. "How dare you," Spoiled bellowed. "I'll have "Please," Pipsqueak said, although he was also trying to control his own laughter, "everypony, let us not descend into name calling." Once the commotion stopped, Pipsqueak welcomed the next person from the audience who was allowed to ask a question. "The next person is from Mrs. Donna Healy," Pipsqueak said. "A chemist from Wilmington, Delaware." The woman was heavyset, with long red hair and clad in a yellow work dress. "Mrs. Rich," the woman asked the rich pony, "Do you consider music, and not one's environment, to be what determines what path a child takes." "Environment is of course a key factor," Spoiled Rich said. "But music is certainly a part of the environment, and such violent lyrics and themes could easily lead someone down a wrong path." "But you don't think poverty plays more of a roll in the development of a potential criminal then the music one's listens to in creating criminals?" Mrs. Healy asked Spoiled Rich. "Certain...cultures breed criminals more then others," Spoiled Rich said haughtily, while casting a slight glare at J-Wash, who returned it. "It would do us good to see that culture … stamped out before it poisons any minds." Spoiled Rich finished. Healy left the stage and returned to the bleachers. "OK," Pipsqueak said. "The next creature to show up is Ponyville's Sugarcube Corner co-owner, Cup Cake." The portly blue mare trotted up to the microphone in the center of the stage. "Mr. Washington," Cup Cake asked with some concern. "I do believe in freedom of expression, but I am deeply concerned about the lyrics in your music. You call police 'whores' and encourage violence against authorities. What explanation do you have for such violent themes?" "Well, I don't know how ponies feel about the authorities, but in Chicago, the police persecute black men like me everyday," J-Wash said with a somewhat tired expression. "When I twelve years old, I got cash for helping a neighbor of mine with chores, and this police man took it away from me." Cup looked a bit shocked at that. Her original follow up question died in her throat. "Well, uh, certainly, that police officer was punished?" Cup asked with some hope. "Yeah, that cop certainly learned his lesson from a five day paid suspension," J-Wash said with some irony. "Just like the one cop who belted me in the head for a robbery I didn't do." Cup was shocked at her words. "Well can you blame the authorities," Spoiled Rich intoned. "The police must do what they can to maintain order, and his...beliefs are in favor of anarchy." "So you feel certain people aren't entitled to justice?" J-Wash asked. "Justice is for those who obey the law," Spoiled Rich said. J-Wash was about to retort, but Pipsqueak stopped him. "OK, Mrs. Cake, you may return to your seat," Pipsqueak said. Cup Cake did, and a tall blond haired woman in a blue blouse and jeans walked up to the stage. "The next person to ask a question is Janet Harris, a lawyer from Los Angeles, California," Pipsqueak said. The woman picked up the mike. "Madame Rich," Harris asked the rich pony. "You claim that your Musical Safety Board is for protecting foals from dangerous influences, but what is to stop you from using the board for your own personal politics?" "What personal gain could I have besides the protection of our youth?" Spoiled Rich asked haughtily. "What is to stop you from banning music you don't approve off?" Harris pressed onto the wealthy mare. "I will not be serving on the board," Spoiled Rich said. "The board will be made up of independent residents who are voted in by the community. I do not play a role in any decisions, nor will I serve on any board. This is meant to give Ponyville residents a direct choice in what they will allow. "OK," Pipsqueak said, signaling to Harris she should return to the bleachers. She did, and a tan pony with a red and blue mane trotted up to the stage. "The next creature to take the stage is Bon-Bon, a local confectioner," Pipsqueak said. Bon-Bon gave J-Wash a serious look. "Mr. Washington," Bon-Bon said politely but firmly. "What do you say to those who claim your music leads to delinquency among our fillies and colts?" "Well, my experience is that music doesn't drive people to commit crimes," J-Wash said. "I had friends who committee crimes because they wanted money, not because a song told them too. By that logic, reading a Daring Do book will make a foal run through a deep dark cave, or the song Reach for the Sky by Sapphire Shores will make a pony grow wings." A small chuckle came out of the audience. "So you aren't concerned with promoting delinquency among our youth," Bon-Bon pressed. "Well Mrs. Bon Bon, by occupation is DJ, not nanny. It is the job of parents to decide what their children can and can't listen to, what values they wish to promote, and what care and guidance they receive. My mother worked 11 hours a day, and she still found the time and energy to discipline me." Spoiled Rich was about to make a snappy retort, but Bon-Bon left the stage. "Our next question for Mrs. Rich to be asked by Harold Lee," Pipsqueak said. "An insurance salesman from Portland, Oregon." The man, dressed in a simple white dress shirt and pants, came up to the stage. "Mrs. Rich, do you feel that categorizing music as 'offensive' can be done in anyway that is subjective?" Harold Lee asked Spoiled Rich. "I feel that I-I mean, I feel that the mothers of Ponyville are aware of what we can allow our children ought to listen to," Spoiled Rich said. "Well, one song by the pony pop artist Coloratura was about defying nobility in favor of character. Wouldn't a nobleman-I mean, noble pony find that music to be offensive? What would stop a noble pony from banning such music as offensive?" Spoiled Rich looked a bit speechless at that. "Well, uh," Spoiled Rich stammered a bit. "Perhaps we should....examine Coloratura and other pony music along with the music brought by humans," she said, uneasily. Robert Lee was about to press, but Pipsqueak signaled that his time was up. "Our next question comes from Lily, another local flower vendor," Pipsqueak said. A pink pony with a yellow mane trotted up to the stage. "Mr. Washington," Lily said. "What do you say to those claiming you support violence against authority and law?" "The music played does not promote violence," J-Wash said firmly. "But several lyrics call for violence against police," Lily complained. "I am opposed to authorities being allowed to oppress and persecute in a nation that calls itself the land of the free," J-Wash said. "The music played is not violence, but a social protest against the excesses of law enforcement. If there is disrespect of authority, it is the fault of those authorities who disrespect the very people they should be protecting." Lily was stunned by his passionate remarks and quietly returned to her seat. "OK, we are down to our last two questions," Pipsqueak said. "The final question goes to Robert Thompson, a native of Tallahassee, Florida and a self-employed electrician." A suited African-American man walked up to the podium. "Mrs. Rich," the Florida native said, "Do you feel that those who are victimized by corruption should be allowed to protest, whether through cultural expressions or through or grassroots political actions?" "You claim to come from a democracy Mr. Thompson," Spoiled Rich. "Surely you can protest in the ballot box." "And if the ballot box isn't enough to stop police from exceeding their authority," Mr. Thompson asked forcefully. "Respect for the law is the most important thing, especially among those trying to raise their families according to proper values," Spoiled Rich finished. Thompson left the podium, somewhat dissatisfied by the answer. A blue pony with a pink mane trotted up to the stage. "OK, the last question is from Lotus Blossom, a co-owner of the Ponyville Day Spa," Pipsqueak said as Lotus came up to the microphone. "Mr. Washington," Lotus Blossom asked. "You strongly stand by free speech. But do you believe that messages that promote hate should be allowed to be aired?" "Of course not," J-Wash said. "I oppose messages that promote hatred." "But the lyrics in your song clearly promote attacking law enforcement," Lotus interrupted. "You don't see these messages as hatred?" "Those messages are a protest against corruption," J-Wash said. "That is not the same thing as promoting hatred and intolerance. Many songs of the rap genre are a condemnation of those two things." "OK, we've finished our questions. Now each of the debaters can have one minute to make a closing statement if they choose." Pipsqueak gestured to Spoiled Rich. "Mrs. Rich you may proceed." "The safety of our foals must remain our first priority. Do not allow poisonous words to contaminate our children's ears. Go out tomorrow and vote for musical safety," Spoiled Rich said. Several members of the audience, mainly older ponies, applauded Spoiled Rich's closing remarks. "I believe that the right to denounce authority must be protected at all cost. When you vote tomorrow, ignore fear-mongering and those calling themselves moral, and cast your vote for against those seeking to control what you can and can't listen to," J-Wash said passionately. The younger ponies and the humans in the audience also let out an applause. " 'Musical Safety Board Passes by Ten Votes' ", Devon said, reading the headline with tired eyes. J-Wash sat down feeling disappointed, while Vinyl tried to look hopeful. "Guys," Vinyl said in a reassuring tone. "Look on the bright side. The paper says the Protect the Foals League said they won't ban music completely. They'll only limit certain music on certain timeslots." "Yeah, but they're only going to allow rap music in the early morning, when no one will be listening to it," J-Wash with frustration. "Sorry Jamal," Devon said. "I'm gonna have to let you go." J-Wash looked down with disappointment. Vinyl however, continued to look hopeful. "I think there is a way you can still be allowed to be the DJ," Vinyl said with a happy smile. "How's that?" J-Wash said, trying to sound less upset. "Well, ponies have been downloading the songs you played like crazy off of iTunes," Vinyl said. Devon and J-Wash leaned in, looking intrigued. "Sure, you can't be a DJ on the radio, but what's stopping you from being a DJ at my clubs. And considering there is quite a healthy market for rap, I'm sure there are more then a few ponies who want to see you." J-Wash looked at Vinyl with surprise, but then a pleased smile formed on his face. "I like the way you think," J-Wash said. "When do I start?" "The second we can hear your wubs," Vinyl said enthusiastically. It was late at night. At Vinyl's Dance and Prance, the sound of dancing and rap filled the place as pony and human alike jumped to the beats. In the center at the control center was J-Wash, dressed in sweat clothes and his usual bling. "Hey P-Ville," J-Wash said. "I want to thank y'all for coming down tonight." He pushed his touch screen. "This is a song helps stick it to the fat cats out there who want to shut us down," J-Wash said. He paused as the ponies and humans present let out angry jeers at the "fat cats". He tapped another screen, and another soulful song played. Hey you, telling me what to do, what to say Hey you, telling me to go your way Listen up, I am not your puppet. Listen up, I am not your slave You can't mess me with me, for I am among the brave My destiny is mine, my destiny is what I make You may think that you're in control, but I will never break In the audience, one purple pony, hidden by her thick pink sweatshirt and hood, was listening to the lyrics with a passion nopony else was. Hey you, telling me what to wear and want to be You may be rich and you may be strong, but you ain't the boss of me. The future is scary, but it is what I write, Try to take my life, and you'll be looking for a fight The pink-hooded figure sang to the chorus.. "My destiny is mine," she sang softly, "my destiny is what I make." Diamond Tiara pulled down her hood and looked up at the roof with resolve, her heart soaring from the words and the crowd singing along. "You may think you're in control, but I will never break," she finished, letting a proud tear flow down her cheek.