And by the way....re "Do people cover their kid's eyes when they go to the museum?" Well...yes they do. At the small theater where I work much of the audience is locals. It's a quiet town with a bit of a small-town feel despite being smack in the middle of the cosmopolitan mega-plex called the San Francisco Bay Area. Every show that we do (no exceptions) we get angry letters. People call up my boss howling about "terrible profanity" and "disgusting stuff we saw" -- one person was so mortified that her children were forced to listen to "two hours of this dreadful profanity" that she could only sit in her seat fuming (one wonders why, however, she didn't take the chance to leave at intermission!) The play that got that particular reaction was, by the way "Life With Father" by Clarence Day -- an old perenial based on a series of articles written by Clarence Day in 1933 about life in a well-to-do New York family around 1890. Father is a bit the outspoken chap...he says "Damn" rather often and when annoyed, "God Damn." He taketh the Lord's Name in vain and what was good enough for the New Yorker in 1933 or William Powell in 1947 was apparently too much for our dear patron! I was working the summer-stock musicals at a big outdoor theater, a family-friendly place ran by a nice gent in his 80's. Following "Man of La Mancha" we got an angry letter about our Dulcinea being nude. Somehow it didn't bother the letter writer that the lady in question was being abducted and would soon be brutally raped...what bothered them was a personal inability to tell flesh-colored tights from flesh -- on an actress eighty feet away on a darkened stage, yet. And she was afraid of seeing what? Yeah, people do get this insanely stupid. And the sort of people who do, are eager to push their views on the co-worker who is browsing Rendo during lunch, or the woman who allows her child to experiment wit Poser, or the site that dares make this "terrible filth" available to anyone who goes through the trouble of registering and giving their name and email and agreeing to the Terms of Service and.... So, yeah, I got no trouble with a little self-censorship, as long as it doesn't restrict actual access. Let's keep the "Pious Perverts" (as the writer Jack Woodward called these people) from their excuses to do us harm. Give us a nice simple "boobies in the thumbnail" graphic that can be clicked through or removed by the person browsing. And case closed.