(no subject)
Jason Balserait
Magazine Writing
I’m A Pervert
A highly educated analyst may claim that the mass media desensitizes our children and turns them into mass murdering serial killers. Well, I would have to slap that analyst in the face and give a hearty, “no way”. I grew up in a generation where television was just beginning to push the envelope in good taste and beginning to finally dominate the household. For every step of my maturing process, there was a new show to bring me up right. And I turned out okay, I think.
My fondest memory of Catholic school was when my best friend at the time, Mathew, and I were playing on the jungle gym. Mathew came up to me and told me an amazing revelation that he had heard from his older brother. He told me, innocently enough, that, “whenever I have sex with a girl that I should wait to go pee because I wouldn’t be able to pee straight”. Naturally, I had no idea what he was talking about or what sex was, but it stuck with me until this very day. This was Kindergarten for me.
First grade, around the time I was beginning to learn how to tie my shoe and open milk cartons, “The Simpsons” appeared on the air. “The Simpsons” featured the antithesis of a 1950’s Ward Cleaver, Homer Simpson, as the central character. Homer Simpson was a raging alcoholic, who was so stupid that he actually forgot how to make his heart beat in an episode. Homer had a son named Bart who was referred to as “the devil’s cabana boy” by his sister. Bart Simpson’s fascination with sling shots; brought along my very own fascination with sling shots. Although, I was never actually allowed to own one. But, boy, did I think they were cool. Obviously, this show was a crucial part of my maturing process into the first grade.
Towards the end of elementary school, a brand new show on “The Network of Kids”, started playing Sundays at 11 A.M. This show opened a whole new world that my small pre-pubescent eyes had never witnessed before. I saw talking nose goblins (boogers), unnecessary burping and farting, yaks, and a giant piece of toast who would urge children (on the show) to “hang on to his buttocks” as he flew (by farting loudly). This was “The Ren and Stimpy Show”.
At first I didn’t quite understand the show, but upon further viewing of the show I found is fascinating and it’s still something that fascinates me today. It was true; Ren and Stimpy changed my life forever.
“The Ren and Stimpy Show” featured an overweight cat, known as Stimpy who was filled with nothing but love and nose goblins. Stimpy’s cohort, Ren, was a skinny ultra violent Chihuahua who would beat Stimpy the snot of Stimpy (literally) repeatedly for simply showing his love. This was of course done in a humorous fashion. However, Ren did not hate Stimpy; he just hated Stimpy’s kindness. It was even hinted at various times that Ren had a homosexual relationship with Stimpy. Keep in mind: This show was on the air, on a children’s network, on Sunday mornings.
During this Ren and Stimpy craze, I literally owned all the tapes, stuffed animals, shirts, action figures; well, basically anything that had the smiling faces of my small twisted animal heroes. I can remember picking my nose and thinking of nose goblins, calling things “EEDIOTS!” and most importantly I was beginning to develop a great sense of humor.
Immediately following the desensitizing process of “Ren and Stimpy”, the characters, Beavis and Butthead were introduced into American households. This show successfully came along to bring my perversion on to a whole other level.
My mom tried protecting me from this newfound crudeness by blocking the show’s entire station from my television’s cable box. Little did my mother know that I knew the password to the cable box was: “1111”.
Beavis and Butthead, (whose major language consisted of: “He said butt”, “He said member”, and most importantly, “I need T.P. for my bung hole”) repeated a constant theme for its viewers: sex. They were portrayed as only fourteen years old in show, although their only one goal in life was to “score”. Fart jokes, slingshots, and boogers were quickly becoming a thing of the past. Jokes about sex and body parts were now becoming the next big thing for me. Even the word “bung hole” was introduced into my language, which is a word that I still use to this very day.
Now, keep in mind, this show didn’t make me want to go out and have sex with random girls, it just left me warped, twisted and a little giggly.
Freshman year of high school brought insecurities, puberty and “South Park”. The series premiere of “South Park” opened with a group of four third grade boys standing at a bus stop, wondering what a dildo was. During the first few seasons of “South Park” a small child who never spoke a word, known only as Kenny, would viciously die in every episode. Naturally, I now owned shirts saying: “Oh my God! They Killed Kenny!” (This also showed a bloody picture of a dead cartoon child with rats eating his eyes sockets). It now seemed the envelope had been pushed once more.
Now, the writers of “South Park” rely heavily on social commentary and religious satire, while still fitting in some fart jokes.
“South Park” was the capper for me, I feel almost well rounded. But who knows? Maybe a show will come along and lead me to a new path. From the 1950’s, when men and women weren’t even allowed to be portrayed in the same bed, to present day when nearly every station has shows of people cursing, getting blown up and having sex with each other, it makes me wonder what television has in store for us in the coming years.
Many years from now, when I’m in a nursing home with tubes connected to every body part that pokes out of my skin, I’ll look back at all of these things that made me what I am today. And laugh. I’m a pervert. I’m not ashamed of what I am. Call me just another “statistic”, call me whatever you want, but I’ll be the happiest statistic you’ve ever met.
Magazine Writing
I’m A Pervert
A highly educated analyst may claim that the mass media desensitizes our children and turns them into mass murdering serial killers. Well, I would have to slap that analyst in the face and give a hearty, “no way”. I grew up in a generation where television was just beginning to push the envelope in good taste and beginning to finally dominate the household. For every step of my maturing process, there was a new show to bring me up right. And I turned out okay, I think.
My fondest memory of Catholic school was when my best friend at the time, Mathew, and I were playing on the jungle gym. Mathew came up to me and told me an amazing revelation that he had heard from his older brother. He told me, innocently enough, that, “whenever I have sex with a girl that I should wait to go pee because I wouldn’t be able to pee straight”. Naturally, I had no idea what he was talking about or what sex was, but it stuck with me until this very day. This was Kindergarten for me.
First grade, around the time I was beginning to learn how to tie my shoe and open milk cartons, “The Simpsons” appeared on the air. “The Simpsons” featured the antithesis of a 1950’s Ward Cleaver, Homer Simpson, as the central character. Homer Simpson was a raging alcoholic, who was so stupid that he actually forgot how to make his heart beat in an episode. Homer had a son named Bart who was referred to as “the devil’s cabana boy” by his sister. Bart Simpson’s fascination with sling shots; brought along my very own fascination with sling shots. Although, I was never actually allowed to own one. But, boy, did I think they were cool. Obviously, this show was a crucial part of my maturing process into the first grade.
Towards the end of elementary school, a brand new show on “The Network of Kids”, started playing Sundays at 11 A.M. This show opened a whole new world that my small pre-pubescent eyes had never witnessed before. I saw talking nose goblins (boogers), unnecessary burping and farting, yaks, and a giant piece of toast who would urge children (on the show) to “hang on to his buttocks” as he flew (by farting loudly). This was “The Ren and Stimpy Show”.
At first I didn’t quite understand the show, but upon further viewing of the show I found is fascinating and it’s still something that fascinates me today. It was true; Ren and Stimpy changed my life forever.
“The Ren and Stimpy Show” featured an overweight cat, known as Stimpy who was filled with nothing but love and nose goblins. Stimpy’s cohort, Ren, was a skinny ultra violent Chihuahua who would beat Stimpy the snot of Stimpy (literally) repeatedly for simply showing his love. This was of course done in a humorous fashion. However, Ren did not hate Stimpy; he just hated Stimpy’s kindness. It was even hinted at various times that Ren had a homosexual relationship with Stimpy. Keep in mind: This show was on the air, on a children’s network, on Sunday mornings.
During this Ren and Stimpy craze, I literally owned all the tapes, stuffed animals, shirts, action figures; well, basically anything that had the smiling faces of my small twisted animal heroes. I can remember picking my nose and thinking of nose goblins, calling things “EEDIOTS!” and most importantly I was beginning to develop a great sense of humor.
Immediately following the desensitizing process of “Ren and Stimpy”, the characters, Beavis and Butthead were introduced into American households. This show successfully came along to bring my perversion on to a whole other level.
My mom tried protecting me from this newfound crudeness by blocking the show’s entire station from my television’s cable box. Little did my mother know that I knew the password to the cable box was: “1111”.
Beavis and Butthead, (whose major language consisted of: “He said butt”, “He said member”, and most importantly, “I need T.P. for my bung hole”) repeated a constant theme for its viewers: sex. They were portrayed as only fourteen years old in show, although their only one goal in life was to “score”. Fart jokes, slingshots, and boogers were quickly becoming a thing of the past. Jokes about sex and body parts were now becoming the next big thing for me. Even the word “bung hole” was introduced into my language, which is a word that I still use to this very day.
Now, keep in mind, this show didn’t make me want to go out and have sex with random girls, it just left me warped, twisted and a little giggly.
Freshman year of high school brought insecurities, puberty and “South Park”. The series premiere of “South Park” opened with a group of four third grade boys standing at a bus stop, wondering what a dildo was. During the first few seasons of “South Park” a small child who never spoke a word, known only as Kenny, would viciously die in every episode. Naturally, I now owned shirts saying: “Oh my God! They Killed Kenny!” (This also showed a bloody picture of a dead cartoon child with rats eating his eyes sockets). It now seemed the envelope had been pushed once more.
Now, the writers of “South Park” rely heavily on social commentary and religious satire, while still fitting in some fart jokes.
“South Park” was the capper for me, I feel almost well rounded. But who knows? Maybe a show will come along and lead me to a new path. From the 1950’s, when men and women weren’t even allowed to be portrayed in the same bed, to present day when nearly every station has shows of people cursing, getting blown up and having sex with each other, it makes me wonder what television has in store for us in the coming years.
Many years from now, when I’m in a nursing home with tubes connected to every body part that pokes out of my skin, I’ll look back at all of these things that made me what I am today. And laugh. I’m a pervert. I’m not ashamed of what I am. Call me just another “statistic”, call me whatever you want, but I’ll be the happiest statistic you’ve ever met.