Cramp someone’s style: (v) to prevent someone from free action or expression
Evil is sneaky.
Evil rarely attacks good.
Evil doesn’t necessarily criticize good.
Evil just makes good look limited—and we, as human beings, foolishly make the decision that trying to find a better way of living just ends up cramping our style.
It’s happening every day in our world. Folks are so afraid of being vanilla that they try to come up with their own flavor, and when they find it distasteful, they discover they’re stuck with it because it’s become their trademark.
We are completely convinced that the “good boy” cannot be a dynamo in bed as a lover. No, it’s the over-drinking, under-thinking, greasy-haired, motorcycle-riding, jobless fellow who has the secret to the female orgasm.
In politics, we contend that anyone who sits around and discusses how to run the government is too boring to vote for, and we want somebody in there to shake things up—even though it may create problems of earthquake proportions.
We are just so afraid that our style is going to be cramped and we’re in danger of being boxed in that we find ourselves beckoned to an isolated corner, to be tempted by a “snake in the grass” with something that ends up fruitless.