A Trip to Oz Reminds Us "What Would Jim Do" Means Staying Away from Politics in Entertainment

In an age where the lines between entertainment and the real world increasingly blur, the call for a return to the core essence of storytelling has never been louder or more critical. It's particularly true in an election year where the United States (and the western world) is more divided than in the past century. Aficionados of good fiction all over the planet have a plea for escapism, for stories that transport us beyond the boundaries of our current realities, politics, and the ever-pervasive hot topics that dominate our daily lives. The argument here isn't for ignorance of societal issues but for the preservation of fiction and entertainment as sanctuaries for the human spirit. As Mark Kern -- who has been heavily featured as of late in the Sweet Baby pushback -- has said: entertainment should be the watering hole where all species hold an unspoken truce so that we might all be preserved elsewhere. 

Perhaps that is why it is so lovely to see Frank Oz in the screenshot above finally declaring what we all should have known was true. For Oz is no Republican, no fan of Donald Trump. Oz is simply a puppeteer who, in his better moments, realizes that children's puppets belong in teaching the alphabet, not in postulating about politics.

Throughout human history, stories have served as a vital escape from the trials and tribulations of everyday life. From the ancient epics that spoke of gods and monsters to the fairy tales that hinted at deeper truths through allegory, storytelling has always offered a departure from reality. These narratives provided not just entertainment but a space for reflection, learning, and mental rest, allowing individuals to explore the depths of their imagination and the breadth of human experience without the constraints of their immediate surroundings.

In recent times, however, there has been a noticeable shift. The infiltration of modern politics and current affairs into the realm of entertainment and fiction has muddied the waters of escapism. While art has always been a reflection of society, the scale and intensity of contemporary issues' integration into our escapades into fiction have reached a point where the line between reality and fantasy is perilously thin. This shift has not only limited the scope of creative exploration but also burdened audiences with the very realities they seek to escape, however briefly.

The call for a distinction between entertainment and the real world is not a call for ignorance. It is, instead, a plea for balance and space. The human psyche needs respite, a sanctuary where it can rejuvenate and explore without the weight of the world's problems on its shoulders. By ensuring that entertainment and fiction remain distinct from modern politics and the hot topics of the real world, we allow for a mental break, a crucial pause in the relentless stream of information and opinion that characterizes contemporary life.

At its heart, the argument for the separation of entertainment from contemporary politics is a call for a return to the core of storytelling. It is a reminder of the power of narratives to offer escape, to inspire, to heal, and to connect us on a level that transcends the immediate concerns of our time. In doing so, we do not deny the importance of engaging with the world around us but affirm the necessity of also having the space to step away from it.

In the end, when the barriers between fiction and reality stories of the day are broken, so too are the franchises in which the blur has been made most acute. It happened to Star Wars. It happened to Marvel. It happened to our video games. But maybe it's beginning to turn around. Who knew it would take Oz to give us hope.