Show Me Breasts

Last night while marinating some chicken, I was watching the season finale of "Heroes." During a tense climactic scene, the main villain uses his telekinetic power to pin his adversary for the killing stroke. And whoa, do we see the killing stroke. With just a flick of the villain's fingers from across the room, the pinned hero's throat opens up like a bag of chips. As the wound freely gushes blood, the poor chap slowly gurgles into the nether.

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I've seen my fair share of bloody media, but this is grotesque. And it's on prime time network television.

Am I arguing for this kind of content to be removed, censored, and vilified? Hell no. All I'm asking is that we get breasts.

You see, while networks can show a man graphically bleeding his life out of his neck at 9:40 in the evening, they can't show even a tasteful flash of nudity. A woman posing for a portrait, two lovers entwined in a passionate grip of lovemaking, or even just someone admiring their unclothed body in a mirror.

We're treated to an endlessly creative parade of explosions, shootings, and depraved crime drama on TV, but still limited to bedsheets carefully tucked under armpits, fully-clothed sex scenes, and a PG-rated attitude toward the human form. We're content to show it ripped, mangled, and shot to pieces, but never in its natural state. I don't think I'm wacky to think that's pretty messed up.

I'm not going to delve into the labyrinthine debate about what's more morally objectionable - sex or violence. I'll leave that to commenters. But I will say it seems much easier to explain a breast or penis to a minor than a brutal sex crime or a slit throat.

Fair's fair. Show me boobs, NBC.