Stop the planet so I can get the hell off

Alright, I normally reserve the rants for a different blog. And typically I like to keep this blog light and upbeat. But the straw broke. I can't take it anymore. The fruit loops that seem to be coming out of the woodwork in vastly increasing numbers have finally gone off the deep deep deep end. ***I warn you, this post is full of venom.***

The hubster asked on the way into work if I happened to see THIS article.

Where to start? I don't even know. So, let's just take this paragraph by paragraph.

"Just don’t bring the children. According to an earnest warning on Volumes 1 and 2, “Sesame Street: Old School” is adults-only: “These early ‘Sesame Street’ episodes are intended for grown-ups, and may not suit the needs of today’s preschool child."

Ok, how are today's preschool children different? I mean, Sesame Street was the wholesome show, the good show that taught us all to just get along, how to read, write, and that everyone can be friends. We were just all one big happy family in a neighborhood. How is this suddenly not suitable for children?

Is it a race thing? Perhaps white bread yuppie parents don't want their children to get along with *gasp* black children or children of other races and cultures?

Is it an imagination thing? God forbid children have to figure out for themselves that the talking animals aren't real? Cause damn, I am far more traumatized by a telle-tubby than I am by Big Bird.

Is it because it took place in the inner city and again, yuppie parents are in fear of their children learning that not everyone grows up in a nice little mcmansion that their parents can't afford driving cars that make them feel important, outdoing their neighbors and spiraling out of control into debt?

What? What could possibly make Sesame Street not suitable for the preschooler of today?

"At a recent all-ages home screening, a hush fell over the room. “What did they do to us?” asked one Gen-X mother of two..."

She's kidding right? Or now will she need to go to a therapist? Is her confidence in herself and who she is so weak that she actually had that reaction? Or are we so desparate to play the victim these days that she is imagining dollar signs as she sues one of the greatest children's institutions ever created? Trying to claim some post traumatic stress disorder? Latent memories of wrongs done to us? Seriously, WHAT?

Nothing in the children’s entertainment of today, candy-colored animation hopped up on computer tricks, can prepare young or old for this frightening glimpse of simpler times.

Or is it as simple as this? To think that the world was once so innocent, good, and wholesome that the culture shock might send today's priveleged brats into convulsions. You mean to tell me there was once a time when people had to walk places? Work for a living? Write something on a piece of paper? Help one another? You mean there was once a time when people were held accountable for their actions? Where kids were expected to actually actively learn things and not just be babysat for 12 years and then pushed out into society unprepared and disfunctional?

Back then — as on the very first episode, which aired on PBS Nov. 10, 1969 — a pretty, lonely girl like Sally might find herself befriended by an older male stranger who held her hand and took her home. Granted, Gordon just wanted Sally to meet his wife and have some milk and cookies, but . . . well, he could have wanted anything. As it was, he fed her milk and cookies. The milk looks dangerously whole.

And this is the saddest part of the article. There was a time when we could do this without fear and suspicion. We should weep over the fact that that sort of thing can't happen anymore.

I asked Carol-Lynn Parente, the executive producer of “Sesame Street,” how exactly the first episodes were unsuitable for toddlers in 2007. She told me about Alistair Cookie and the parody “Monsterpiece Theater.” Alistair Cookie, played by Cookie Monster, used to appear with a pipe, which he later gobbled. According to Parente, “That modeled the wrong behavior” — smoking, eating pipes — “so we reshot those scenes without the pipe, and then we dropped the parody altogether.”

Yes, because SO MANY of us 30 and 40 somethings are munching on pipes. You have got to be freak'n kidding me? What? WHAT?

Which brought Parente to a feature of “Sesame Street” that had not been reconstructed: the chronically mood-disordered Oscar the Grouch. On the first episode, Oscar seems irredeemably miserable — hypersensitive, sarcastic, misanthropic. (Bert, too, is described as grouchy; none of the characters, in fact, is especially sunshiney except maybe Ernie, who also seems slow.) “We might not be able to create a character like Oscar now,” she said.

Oh please, Just do what everyone does with today's angry and or depressed youth, put them on drugs.

As for Cookie Monster, he can be seen in the old-school episodes in his former inglorious incarnation: a blue, googly-eyed cookievore with a signature gobble (“om nom nom nom”).............and in the early seasons he comes across a Child’s First Addict.

Ok, finally now I understand why everyone looks at me in disgust as I gobble a dozen cookies spewing crumbs everywhere. I have Cookie Monster to blame for my love of junk food and my bad table manners..............Give me a break.

In East Harlem and Bedford-Stuyvesant in 1978, 95 percent of households with kids ages 2 to 5 watched “Sesame Street.” The figure was even higher in Washington. Nationwide, though, the number wasn’t much lower, and was largely determined by the whims of the PBS affiliates: 80 percent in houses with young children.

So, let me get this straight, if these shows are no longer deemed suitable for preschoolers shouldn't that mean that the 80-95% of us that were subjected to this "filth" should have major issues? Wouldn't that mean that a whole bunch of us in our 30 and 40's should be really messed up people?

People on “Sesame Street” had limited possibilities and fixed identities, and (the best part) you weren’t expected to change much. The harshness of existence was a given, and no one was proposing that numbers and letters would lead you “out” of your inner city to Elysian suburbs. Instead, “Sesame Street” suggested that learning might merely make our days more bearable, more interesting, funnier. It encouraged us, above all, to be nice to our neighbors and to cultivate the safer pleasures that take the edge off — taking baths, eating cookies, reading. Don’t tell the kids.

Oh yes, let's keep a show that did all those things away from today's children. God forbid they ever think for themselves, get an imagination, or read a book. Damn, that would ruin them. Computers might grow dusty. Teachers might stop fearing having to walk into the class room and face todays overpriveleged overprotected brats. And the worse possible outcome: more children like me, Girl J, Hubster, Boy J, Boy W, Boy S, Boy G in this world. Oh lordy NO! It's probably a good thing they are keeping kids away from Sesame Street. We grew up well adjusted, responsible and accountable for our actions. We wouldn't want that in todays world, oh good lord no.

Newt Ponders

Since seeing/posting/thinking about Shane Parsons I have begun to understand some points of view that previously I gave the same credit I give Oprah, Dr. Phil and Pat Robertson – that would be none – zero- zip – nada.

I am 100% opposed to the Iraq war – or as I prefer to call it, Commander Coo Coo Bananas own private little vendetta and handout to his business buddies.

But by saying and believing that I realized that it belittles the fact that Shane lost his legs, and that 3,000 soldiers died. And if I had to express my feelings to his face I don’t think I could. And maybe that was why I couldn’t go talk to him. I wasn’t ashamed for my beliefs but I am ashamed at what Bush has gotten us into.

I don’t want to take away or tarnish the beliefs that Shane holds. Or the widows or the children who no longer have one of their parents.

If I was a soldier I would have to believe that there was a reason for what I was doing. And for me to say that the war is senseless makes me think back to Vietnam. And how horribly our soldiers were treated when they came home.

I know that it’s different. Completely different. And that there isn’t a person out there that doesn’t support the men and women of our military. No matter how they feel about the war they will always support the soldiers.

But how do you look them in the eye when you truly believe that they died or were injured for no real reason? I truly believe that this war has nothing to do with terrorism or making us safe.

There are people out there, and the whitehouse has poured out the propaganda, saying that if you aren’t for the war you are for the terrorists – period. And you absolutely can’t truly support the troops.

In a round about way I understand how some think if you oppose the war you don’t support the troops. But then I realized that they say that because they can’t wipe the blood from their hands. And this is how they cope with it. Given how much money those in power have gained from this war I’m sure they sleep quite well in their trillion dollar mansions. And they sit fat and happy in their towers of power. And somehow they justify the blood on their hands. I can’t fathom how but they do. They lie to themselves almost as much as they lie to the American people. And to our soldiers for that matter.

But the bottom line is, I don’t think I could look Shane in the face and tell him I don’t support this war. And that makes me think that those bastards are a little bit right. If I can’t look him in the eye how can I support him?

And that, my dear friends, is tearing me up inside.

Downer Monday

***WARNING **** Emotional post ****** Don't read if you want to be happy *******

So it’s Monday and I’m not sure what all I want to say. So here’s a blog from the irrational gut:

I was sick all Sunday with anxiety of the hubster leaving for his trip. I shouldn’t be, but apparently I couldn’t turn my damn brain off. So I got a little scared that I was having that feeling right before something really bad happens. So I cleaned the house. I had to keep my brain focused on something other than hyperventilating. He got there ok. But the feeling hasn’t gone away. I guess the evil monster of the past resurfaces sometimes and I can’t seem to kick his ass back down to the depths he belongs in. The last time someone left for any length of time they never came back. I have complete faith in the hubster, I guess it’s myself I don’t have that much faith in. I’m not sure. Like I said, this is coming from the irrational part of me.

To make matters worse I had some McDonalds for lunch. Now I am actually sick to my stomach. Sheesh. That was a very stupid thing to do.

I’m also having serious anxiety over the pup we might bring home. Ok, here’s the story:
Last year I fell in love with a puppy on petfinder. She was another puppy mill rescue and she stole my heart. But I had to go out of town for several weeks so I put her future with me in fate’s hands. And sure enough she was adopted while I was away. My Aunt felt really bad that I wasn’t going to get her. I joked with my Aunt that maybe she’ll end up like Sophie and be returned. And damned if she wasn’t. Only when the shelter got a hold of her again they paired her with another dog so it became a two for one issue. And that would bring our dog count up to 4. Which is just too many. So, I put her out of my mind and stopped looking. Well, I stopped seriously looking. Then of course along came Cora. She’s darling. And we know what to do with her to bring out her puppy goodness. So on the eve of calling her foster mom and telling her we want her I find myself with a sick stomach and an aching heart. Total lb’s of the two dogs: 21 total lb’s of Cora: 21.
So, really the weight of dog in the house wouldn’t change right? But then I feel bad about Cora. She’s darling. And she needs a home too. So then I think about the fact that when we were meeting her 3 different people came up to see her. Not my lil Sophie dog, her. They thought she was the cutest thing. The store manager of the Petco we met at sat down on the sidewalk with us and talked to her and petted her. He thought she was awesome. Again, no one payed attention to my dog. And her Foster mom mentioned that she’s never even been to an adoption event. So part of me thinks maybe we should go for the 4 dog situation. I mean, truly my heart has always been with that other lil pup. For a year now. But then I feel like a horrible person for rejecting Cora. And I know Cora would be a great addition to the family and she would do well. ARGH! I’m damned either way I think. And is it fair to adopt Cora while I still pine for a different dog. And right now I can convince myself that Cora will be adopted the first time she goes to an adoption event. But what if she isn’t. What if a year from now I look and she is still listed. Then how bad would I feel? And no, I can’t bring the count up to 5. We’d have to move…………………..

Dang, this is quite the bummer post. All doom and gloom. Sheesh. I just don’t know what to do. And I miss my hubster. And that REALLY doesn’t help. The problem with having a best friend/soul mate is that no matter how strong I am as an individual, I am that much stronger with him by my side. So when he’s gone I feel sorta half alive.

So I guess I need to do some more house cleaning. The more I clean the less I can think. And then tonight I’ll talk to him about the pup stuff. And see what he thinks. And maybe he can talk me out of whatever I’m thinking.

I really shouldn’t have had McDonalds for lunch……………….

Where did I put those Tums??????

Well, so long and thanks for all the fish. I promise a happier post tomorrow.