There was a news item out recently concerning the nature of friendships between humans and chickens. In it, the Center of Disease Control suggested that perhaps, just maybe, the new farming generation should create a more businesslike environment on their small hobby farms. Some people believe that happy chickens produce tastier, more healthful eggs, and seem to think that strong friendships are the key to happy chickens. In an effort to put the chickens at ease, they snuggle with them and apparently give them delicate smooches about the head and beak (and that is all, I hope). The CDC is totally grossed out, and AlexT, Dollissa, and I are OUTRAGED. As usual.
We don’t know for sure if kissing a chicken will get it to grow a better egg. But we DO know that we are being consumed with jealousy that we don’t have chickens of our own! We like egg-based meals! We like the sounds chickens make! We have watched documentaries about these things! I even have a book about raising chickens! It is a grave injustice that out of the three, zero of us have any chicken friends.
I made a comic out of our conversation, but do not be misled. This is not a comedy chat I have drawn. It is a true modern tragedy.
When I was a younger person, in my single digits, I had some Big Ideas of how the world works. For no readily apparent reason, (because adults didn’t feed me these thoughts and I did not hold discussions on such topics with my peers), I believed all kinds of things that eventually faded – but they never went away completely.
I thought that if any water was murky, that meant there were sharks right out of view, ready to eat me. I thought that if Satan was the Father of Lies, then the greatest lie would be to pass himself off as God and to get humans to worship him and commit atrocities in his assumed name. I thought spiders in webs were our ancestors, for some reason, keeping an eye on us. I thought that if you slept in a room within view of the mirror, your reflection would wake up and jealously stare at you and try to get through and replace you in this world. I thought mushrooms growing in the yard were types of cheese. And yet, I didn’t fear that stepping on sidewalk cracks would break my mother’s back. That’s just silly!
But I want to talk about the idea I held most firmly: that the world and the future had limitless possibilities for me, and for anyone. Want to be an astronaut when you grow up? Well, I thought, all you have to do is just want it. The notion of having to study or train for space missions was laughable to me, if I even considered it at all. With this belief firmly in place, what kinds of plans did I make? With the universe existing only to fulfill our any desire, which desires did I select for myself?
Some people say that we live in an age of reason, in a world that no longer has room for religion. However, many of these people find themselves imploring some unspecified power when they are rushing to catch the bus, or trying to find their keys.
Is it a coincidence when these things work out? Nay nay, I say! We need our gods and their divine intervention, whether they created us, or we created them. Like the Greek gods of old, here are a few of the gods who serve us in our modern world.
In my perfect dream world, legendary children’s show Sesame Street would be populated by old time movie stars parodying themselves outlandishly. I think I would have learned better lessons, and learned them better, if it had been this way. Are children supposed to identify with or look up to a fuzzy green monster with a bad attitude? Well maybe they do, but a magically re-animated Greta Garbo would have gotten the job done with so much more melodramatic class.
If I ever get a wish-granting monkey paw, this will be the reality of children’s television programming.
As always, click to see it in the full size. (You can see the other example of Greta in imaginary kids television in our Yo Garbo Garbo post.)
There are a lot of celebrities in the world. Thousands of them! And you can’t really always keep track of what they’re up to. Eddie Murphy is super-famous, right? He’s practically an icon: a symbol of a certain kind of popular comedy. But I had no idea that he had so many children. In today’s comic, this discovery takes AlexT and me on a journey of thought from horror to imaginative consideration to unrealistic demands to impatience. We must never forget that children are a burden and time is valuable. Click to enlarge.
Fred Astaire, American dancing gentleman, is a well-known figure of classic cinema. His films are comfortingly formulaic; you can expect light humor, charming romance, catchy music, and impressive dance routines no matter which of his offerings you happen to be watching. He kept a dedicated team of writers on hand to create hit after hit throughout the 1930s. And indeed, he and his buddy Ginger Rogers starred in these hits, winning awards and creating an on-screen LEGACY.
However, not all of the scripts that came to the table were accepted.
In the year 1935, it was proposed to Astaire and Rogers that they should work together once again in another musical romantic comedy following the patterns of their prior successes. However, this time it would be an historical musical romantic comedy! Plague Year.
Yo Gabba Gabba is a very good show for the very small child crowd, but it could be better. I am not at all suggesting that DJ Lance Rock is in any way deficient or lacking in wonderful personality. But imagine for a moment that a children’s show was designed to influence children to be haughty and urbane. What if instead of being taught to eat nutritious snacks and share with each other, they were taught to mix cocktails and silently arch their brows just so to convey snide judgment? Beatboxing and breakdancing are great, but are they as useful to know as how to seduce with a glance from across the room or how to melodramatically sigh before taking a deep drag from a ridiculously long cigarette holder that is perched in an impeccably manicured hand?
Decide for yourself. I know you’ll come to the correct conclusion. As always, click to make it larger. (You can see another example of Greta in an imaginary children’s television show on our Futility Street post.)