Day 525: Is it cookie time yet?
It's funny to watch the whole spectacle of Republicans trying to slash federal subsidies for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The argument that these subsidies represent a small portion of CPB's budget nowadays, thanks to the largess of private and corporate donors, is technically accurate. But never mind that. What idiot politician wants to be pinned with knee-capping beloved children's' icons? Standard operating procedure clearly outlines how to execute this properly: After you carpet-bomb the mud-hut village, you must immediately afterward drop yellow packets containing emergency rations, soccer balls and tiny American flags for the surviving orphans. It's not a matter of humanitarianism, just keeping the media from crucifying you.
Note this is all going down the same year that it was pre-announced Cookie Monster would be going on a diet. Coincidence? Shyeah, right. It's not even like Sesame Street is unassailable, but you have to be smart about it. Those Muppets may not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they are legion, so attacking them en masse is a dicey proposition. The trick is to find the chink in their armor. Obviously, Elmo is way overexposed and the most vulnerable. Everybody secretly hates that nasally little bastard at this point. When the others try to retaliate, label them as terrorists and introduce a new child-oriented alert system to protect the public against this festering menace among us.
At this point you're probably asking: Geez, what's her beef with Sesame Street? Well, a few weeks ago I was watching some decades-old episodes on DVD, and who should they trot out to sing a song, but fricking Ralph Nader, the man who eats children! If you're not part of the solution, then you're part of the problem. And giving that fraud access to a nation of gullible minds is definitely not part of the solution. In fact, it's antithetical to the goals of both educational programming and public broadcasting to let any established political or media figure make a friendly appearance. There are six billion plus people in the world, find someone who hasn't been in the news.
Speaking of things that devour and undo influence by nutty right-wingers on education, I've got to say that the giant flying spaghetti monster is by far one of the most compelling theories I've encountered lately. Sure, go ahead and put your life in jeopardy by scoffing at his noodly appendages, if that's your inclination. But know this: No one has ever successfully combatted fervent belief in the existence of a higher being by arguing that instead there is simply... nothing. (Can you say "Snuffalufagus", boys and girls?) That's a loser's game, because nature abhors a vacuum, and the same holds true for human nature. We're hardwired to impose a sense of order on the chaos around us, even if it means pulling an explanation from our collective bumhole. Intelligent design is a slyly modern maneuver, oriented toward undermining critical thinking. When there's a snake in the tree of knowledge, don't pussy out and give him time to peddle his wormy apples. Instead, kick it Conan-style old-skool and represent: Crom can kick your god's arse, and don't you forget it!
Speaking of "we have come, we have seen, we have kicked its ass": You know that scene in Ghostbusters where Slimer pops out of a hot dog cart with his mouth crammed full? I decided to recreate it faithfully at the dinner table with a jar of vienna sausages. Good times.
Note this is all going down the same year that it was pre-announced Cookie Monster would be going on a diet. Coincidence? Shyeah, right. It's not even like Sesame Street is unassailable, but you have to be smart about it. Those Muppets may not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they are legion, so attacking them en masse is a dicey proposition. The trick is to find the chink in their armor. Obviously, Elmo is way overexposed and the most vulnerable. Everybody secretly hates that nasally little bastard at this point. When the others try to retaliate, label them as terrorists and introduce a new child-oriented alert system to protect the public against this festering menace among us.
At this point you're probably asking: Geez, what's her beef with Sesame Street? Well, a few weeks ago I was watching some decades-old episodes on DVD, and who should they trot out to sing a song, but fricking Ralph Nader, the man who eats children! If you're not part of the solution, then you're part of the problem. And giving that fraud access to a nation of gullible minds is definitely not part of the solution. In fact, it's antithetical to the goals of both educational programming and public broadcasting to let any established political or media figure make a friendly appearance. There are six billion plus people in the world, find someone who hasn't been in the news.
Speaking of things that devour and undo influence by nutty right-wingers on education, I've got to say that the giant flying spaghetti monster is by far one of the most compelling theories I've encountered lately. Sure, go ahead and put your life in jeopardy by scoffing at his noodly appendages, if that's your inclination. But know this: No one has ever successfully combatted fervent belief in the existence of a higher being by arguing that instead there is simply... nothing. (Can you say "Snuffalufagus", boys and girls?) That's a loser's game, because nature abhors a vacuum, and the same holds true for human nature. We're hardwired to impose a sense of order on the chaos around us, even if it means pulling an explanation from our collective bumhole. Intelligent design is a slyly modern maneuver, oriented toward undermining critical thinking. When there's a snake in the tree of knowledge, don't pussy out and give him time to peddle his wormy apples. Instead, kick it Conan-style old-skool and represent: Crom can kick your god's arse, and don't you forget it!
Speaking of "we have come, we have seen, we have kicked its ass": You know that scene in Ghostbusters where Slimer pops out of a hot dog cart with his mouth crammed full? I decided to recreate it faithfully at the dinner table with a jar of vienna sausages. Good times.