Years later in another in another state.

"We can't allow this...debauchery to infest our town!" The man exhorted, waving the local newspaper containing my latest article around manically. "Having sexually explicit images openly on display would be an affront to our community values!"

I rolled my eyes. Ever since Jim had moved into town several years ago he had been a mildly irritating thorn in my side. I was the photojournalist for the section of our small local paper about community events, and he would always insistently pester me to highlight his involvement in any articles I wrote. From what I could see all he did was frequently appoint himself as leader and boss people around. It was clear he was only volunteering in an attempt to garner himself more influence wherever he could rather than out of any sense of generosity.

However today he took a completely different objection to my article. It announced a touring exhibit of famous paintings from small town artists and listed the paintings that would be on display. The tour that was specifically visiting less heavily populated locations that might not often be loaned artworks of such caliber to inspire and encourage other budding artists from humble origins. Our town had not originally been on the road map for the tour but a flood at one of the other stops meant they would need to detour through our region and also had a slot open to schedule a last minute exhibition. I would've expected Jim to jump at the chance to insert his overbearing presence into another community event, particularly one that might ingratiate himself with the town's more cultured citizens. But for some reason the news about the exhibition being featured in our humble community hall had him strangely agitated.

“Surely this is an over-reaction.” Mr Buck, the man who was donating the use of his building for the exhibition (as he often did with community events) stood up and addressed the room. “The curator of the exhibit has assured me the artistic value-.”

"Don't listen to that disgusting purveyor of degeneracy!" Jim interrupts loudly, "This curator is nothing but a pervert trying to infect our minds with filth! Do you really want your wives gazing upon another man's genitalia? Or your daughters to be exposed to such things before marriage? Heaven forbid it may even start giving the young men in town funny ideas."

Everyone at the gathering began murmuring among themselves. Jim was targeting all their small town conservative values and it seemed to be working. He had specifically called this exclusively male meeting of the church council claiming it would be inappropriate to discuss this subject matter with ladies present. The meeting was mostly made of older or middle aged men, however despite my young age I had also been requested to attend as they thought I might have more pertinent information. But I only had the basic information Mr Buck had given me. I hadn’t yet even seen any of the paintings for myself.

"Okay settle down everyone." Father O'Hara stood up and everyone immediately fell respectfully silent, "I must say Jim makes some excellent points. If these paintings really are as lewd and disgusting as he says we don't want them poisoning our wholesome little town."

Jim nodded along aggressively at the elderly man’s words.

"However! At the same time I know as well as anyone if we try to shield everything from the youths it only fuels their curiosity and causes trouble." Father O'Hara continued, "Tomorrow I will see these artworks and judge for myself. I know I can not **** anything of you Mr Buck but I hope you will take my requests into consideration and insist upon the curator that any unsuitable paintings be excluded."

"Of course Father O'Hara," Mr Buck nodded respectfully, "I will defer to your moral judgement."

"B-but Father O'Hara," Jim objected fumbling for something to say, "I-uhh wouldn't want you to subject yourself to the vile evil of-"

"I am a devout man of the cloth young man and would not succumb to such lowly desires.” The priest chided him, “Come now Jim surely you can agree this is a reasonable compromise.”

Jim fumbled trying to come up with another argument but was unable to do so. The meeting adjourned and everyone began heading home, whispering and murmuring among themselves. I over heard the bar owner and the butcher speculating on whether there might be nude paintings of women as well. Just so they could avoid them of course.

On the way out Jim pulled me aside.

“All right Billy,” I tried to remind him i preferred to be called Bill but he just kept talking “I want my opinion of this exhibit to be well known you hear? We’ll rally everyone together.”

I responded, “Well the thing is I’m not really comfortable using my column to write an attack piece...”

Jim frowned at me and spoke sternly “I happen to be in very good favor with your editor. If I say the word you’ll never write in this town again. Understood?”

I groaned knowing all too well it was probably true. Jim seemed to have his fingers in pies all over town.