Helpless Hamburger and other inanities
When I got home from work after midnight Saturday, I started reading about Sykospark's Insta-Raver, Insta-Goth, and Insta-Rivet Kits. Mom came home drunk from her bartending job, and asked if I had tried some of her "Helpless Hamburger." She's a big fan of creative cooking -- mainly because she likes the convenience of throwing everything into one pot. I said, "No," but didn't pay much attention, because I was laughing too hard at the Sykospark site. She asked what I was laughing about, but didn't understand what I was telling her. I don't think she knows what ravers or rivets are, and it wasn't worth trying to explain to an intoxicated person. She seemed to think I was laughing at her food, so she brought in a plate of it for me to sample, and said, "Try my Helpless Hamburger. I don't know what the hell it is, but that hamburger didn't stand a chance!" Helpless Hamburger is Mom's version of Hamburger Helper -- it's basically twisty noodles and melted Velveeta cheese overlaid with Manwich, and it's really fucking good. I ate a big plate of it last night and tonight.
I got a new phone a few days ago. Adam Ant's "Beat My Guest" is my main ringtone. I wish someone would call me so I can hear the phone ring -- I love that song.
"Well, tie me up and hit me with a stick.
Beat me, beat me.
Yeah, use a truncheon or a household brick.
Beat me beat me."
Actually, my phone is dead right now, because I spent several hours on it with Donnie, babbling about nonsense. I told him about Helpless Hamburger, and he asked, "Is your mom a mad scientist?" I said, "No." He asked, "Does she have a meth lab in the back yard?" I laughed, and said, "Not that I know about." We were each sitting in front of the TV, discussing various programs and commercials as we channel-surfed. He was impressed by the number of channels we have, so he said, "What, are you living in the future or something?" Having started daydreaming mid-conversation, I said, "Uhh... No." He said, "I like how you said that -- 'Uh, no.' Like that wasn't a weird question! 'Are there bombs falling from the sky?' 'No.' 'Is there a war in your front yard?' "I don't think so!'"
I missed Diary of a Madman, which he was watching with the sound muted, because I'd flipped over to the digital music channels. He settled on the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon, and started talking about how bad it was, and how he couldn't believe he'd watched it as a kid, even though his grandmother told him not to because it was supposed to be "satanic." I said, "My grandmother used to tell us not to watch Solid Gold, saying that the dancers had invisible 'bugs' on them that would come out of the TV and get on us if we watched the show." To this day, she denies having said that, but my older cousin remembers the story. I turned to the channel airing Dungeons & Dragons to check it out, and was surprised that I remembered it. I said, "Wait, I remember this show! I used to have a crush on that black-haired guy!" "Which one?" Donnie asked, and turned back to the cartoon, because he'd already changed channels. "The coward?" he bellowed. "You liked the coward?!" I said, "Yeah, maybe I was demonstrating a pattern even then." He said, "See? This show was satanic! I used to like the black girl, or maybe the redhead -- I can't remember which. Oh, and I used to be attracted to the unicorn, too." I started laughing, and he said, "What, are you laughing at my fetishes now?" I said, "No, I'm laughing because we're sitting here, talking about which Dungeons & Dragons characters we had a crush on back in 1983. This is really sad, Donnie!"
In this episode, the kids wound up clinging to some kind of grid suspended over an abyss, trying to get away from some kind of insectoid monster. There was also a five- or six-headed dragon involved. When the blond guy fell off the grid, and shot an arrow upwards from his bow as he fell, Donnie said, "See, he's the guy you should've had the crush on." I said, "Yeah, but I've never been into blue-eyed blonds." Donnie said, "Well, I would've been like, 'I'll cuddle with you...'" "Maybe give him a reach-around," I suggested. "And maybe we could get the unicorn in there, too," Donnie added. His TV was a little ahead of mine for some reason, because he'd always comment on something just before it appeared on my screen. "Maybe I'm the one living in the future," he mused.
I found something on POV Online that Mark Evanier wrote about the cartoon, elaborating upon Eric's role in the show:
"Dungeons & Dragons was a series about six kids who were transported to a dimension filled with wizards and fire-snorting reptiles and cryptic clues and an extremely-evil despot named Venger. The youngsters were trapped in this game-like environment but, fortunately, they were armed with magical skills and weaponry, the better to foil Venger's insidious plans each week.
"The kids were all heroic -- all but a semi-heroic member of their troupe named Eric. Eric was a whiner, a complainer, a guy who didn't like to go along with whatever the others wanted to do. Usually, he would grudgingly agree to participate, and it would always turn out well, and Eric would be glad he joined in. He was the one thing I really didn't like about the show.
"So why, you may wonder, did I leave him in there? Answer: I had to.
"As you may know, there are those out there who attempt to influence the content of childrens' television. We call them 'parents groups,' although many are not comprised of parents, or at least not of folks whose primary interest is as parents. Study them and you'll find a wide array of agendum at work...and I suspect that, in some cases, their stated goals are far from their real goals.
"Nevertheless, they all seek to make kidvid more enriching and redeeming, at least by their definitions, and at the time, they had enough clout to cause the networks to yield. Consultants were brought in and we, the folks who were writing cartoons, were ordered to include certain 'pro-social' morals in our shows. At the time, the dominant 'pro-social' moral was as follows: The group is always right...the complainer is always wrong.
"This was the message of way too many eighties' cartoon shows. If all your friends want to go get pizza and you want a burger, you should bow to the will of the majority and go get pizza with them. There was even a show for one season on CBS called The Get-Along Gang, which was dedicated unabashedly to this principle. Each week, whichever member of the gang didn't get along with the gang learned the error of his or her ways.
"We were forced to insert this 'lesson' in D & D, which is why Eric was always saying, 'I don't want to do that' and paying for his social recalcitrance. I thought it was forced and repetitive, but I especially objected to the lesson. I don't believe you should always go along with the group. What about thinking for yourself? What about developing your own personality and viewpoint? What about doing things because you decide they're the right thing to do, not because the majority ruled and you got outvoted?
"We weren't allowed to teach any of that. We had to teach kids to join gangs. And then to do whatever the rest of the gang wanted to do."
Sadly, I remember The Get-Along Gang -- well, just the opening scenes of kids riding tricycles, and the fact that I hated the theme song. And now that I've wasted half an hour blogging about the D & D cartoon and The Get-Along Gang, I can sleep easily, knowing I've contributed something important to society.
I got a new phone a few days ago. Adam Ant's "Beat My Guest" is my main ringtone. I wish someone would call me so I can hear the phone ring -- I love that song.
"Well, tie me up and hit me with a stick.
Beat me, beat me.
Yeah, use a truncheon or a household brick.
Beat me beat me."
Actually, my phone is dead right now, because I spent several hours on it with Donnie, babbling about nonsense. I told him about Helpless Hamburger, and he asked, "Is your mom a mad scientist?" I said, "No." He asked, "Does she have a meth lab in the back yard?" I laughed, and said, "Not that I know about." We were each sitting in front of the TV, discussing various programs and commercials as we channel-surfed. He was impressed by the number of channels we have, so he said, "What, are you living in the future or something?" Having started daydreaming mid-conversation, I said, "Uhh... No." He said, "I like how you said that -- 'Uh, no.' Like that wasn't a weird question! 'Are there bombs falling from the sky?' 'No.' 'Is there a war in your front yard?' "I don't think so!'"
I missed Diary of a Madman, which he was watching with the sound muted, because I'd flipped over to the digital music channels. He settled on the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon, and started talking about how bad it was, and how he couldn't believe he'd watched it as a kid, even though his grandmother told him not to because it was supposed to be "satanic." I said, "My grandmother used to tell us not to watch Solid Gold, saying that the dancers had invisible 'bugs' on them that would come out of the TV and get on us if we watched the show." To this day, she denies having said that, but my older cousin remembers the story. I turned to the channel airing Dungeons & Dragons to check it out, and was surprised that I remembered it. I said, "Wait, I remember this show! I used to have a crush on that black-haired guy!" "Which one?" Donnie asked, and turned back to the cartoon, because he'd already changed channels. "The coward?" he bellowed. "You liked the coward?!" I said, "Yeah, maybe I was demonstrating a pattern even then." He said, "See? This show was satanic! I used to like the black girl, or maybe the redhead -- I can't remember which. Oh, and I used to be attracted to the unicorn, too." I started laughing, and he said, "What, are you laughing at my fetishes now?" I said, "No, I'm laughing because we're sitting here, talking about which Dungeons & Dragons characters we had a crush on back in 1983. This is really sad, Donnie!"
In this episode, the kids wound up clinging to some kind of grid suspended over an abyss, trying to get away from some kind of insectoid monster. There was also a five- or six-headed dragon involved. When the blond guy fell off the grid, and shot an arrow upwards from his bow as he fell, Donnie said, "See, he's the guy you should've had the crush on." I said, "Yeah, but I've never been into blue-eyed blonds." Donnie said, "Well, I would've been like, 'I'll cuddle with you...'" "Maybe give him a reach-around," I suggested. "And maybe we could get the unicorn in there, too," Donnie added. His TV was a little ahead of mine for some reason, because he'd always comment on something just before it appeared on my screen. "Maybe I'm the one living in the future," he mused.
I found something on POV Online that Mark Evanier wrote about the cartoon, elaborating upon Eric's role in the show:
"Dungeons & Dragons was a series about six kids who were transported to a dimension filled with wizards and fire-snorting reptiles and cryptic clues and an extremely-evil despot named Venger. The youngsters were trapped in this game-like environment but, fortunately, they were armed with magical skills and weaponry, the better to foil Venger's insidious plans each week.
"The kids were all heroic -- all but a semi-heroic member of their troupe named Eric. Eric was a whiner, a complainer, a guy who didn't like to go along with whatever the others wanted to do. Usually, he would grudgingly agree to participate, and it would always turn out well, and Eric would be glad he joined in. He was the one thing I really didn't like about the show.
"So why, you may wonder, did I leave him in there? Answer: I had to.
"As you may know, there are those out there who attempt to influence the content of childrens' television. We call them 'parents groups,' although many are not comprised of parents, or at least not of folks whose primary interest is as parents. Study them and you'll find a wide array of agendum at work...and I suspect that, in some cases, their stated goals are far from their real goals.
"Nevertheless, they all seek to make kidvid more enriching and redeeming, at least by their definitions, and at the time, they had enough clout to cause the networks to yield. Consultants were brought in and we, the folks who were writing cartoons, were ordered to include certain 'pro-social' morals in our shows. At the time, the dominant 'pro-social' moral was as follows: The group is always right...the complainer is always wrong.
"This was the message of way too many eighties' cartoon shows. If all your friends want to go get pizza and you want a burger, you should bow to the will of the majority and go get pizza with them. There was even a show for one season on CBS called The Get-Along Gang, which was dedicated unabashedly to this principle. Each week, whichever member of the gang didn't get along with the gang learned the error of his or her ways.
"We were forced to insert this 'lesson' in D & D, which is why Eric was always saying, 'I don't want to do that' and paying for his social recalcitrance. I thought it was forced and repetitive, but I especially objected to the lesson. I don't believe you should always go along with the group. What about thinking for yourself? What about developing your own personality and viewpoint? What about doing things because you decide they're the right thing to do, not because the majority ruled and you got outvoted?
"We weren't allowed to teach any of that. We had to teach kids to join gangs. And then to do whatever the rest of the gang wanted to do."
Sadly, I remember The Get-Along Gang -- well, just the opening scenes of kids riding tricycles, and the fact that I hated the theme song. And now that I've wasted half an hour blogging about the D & D cartoon and The Get-Along Gang, I can sleep easily, knowing I've contributed something important to society.