I originally exposed Anthony to television by mere happenstance. I am a busybody who must have multiple things going at all times. Background noise, like a television set, calms me. So Anthony grew up with it on, although probably never really clicking in that people actually watch the dang thing. Up until about four months ago he could care less what was on, and only really perk up when a particular commercial came on with an interesting song to it (which would send him into his toddler dancing frenzy). I felt guilty just having on Court TV in the background, though, in case he ever did start paying attention, so I would actually tune in the Disney Channel. Now, for however mortifyingly they butcher original stories, or over songify everything, or dessimate all things that made the Muppets special, their kids programming ain't half bad. I refuse to tune in PBS because Sesame Street turned to crap the moment Jim Hensen died, and they put that mindless drivvel on like Boohbah and the Teletubbies. I mean, what the FUCK are those shows supposed to be? They don't actually put forth a message, just weird blobby things and bright colours and screwy noises. Hell, each teletubby has a uniquely bizarre speech impediment, why the hell would I want my language developing child to pick that crap up? And the baby in the sun thing is just not right. My brain screamed the first time I attempted to sit through a mind numbing episode. By the time Boohbah was over, I was almost to the point of huddling in a corner whimpering that my soul hurt.
SO...I leave it to the Disney channel to help me through my morning. Mind you, we only watch this shit in the morning, or mommy would go completely cout of her gourd having to watch children's television all day. I have it on while I drink my cup of coffee to become concious, and Anthony toodles around the living room. Stanley is a cool show because not only does it teach kids about a different animal each episode (and thus imports a compassion for our animal friends), but the parental unit there is made up of a working mom and a stay at home dad who is a comic book artist. How friggin' cool is that?! And there's Out of the Box, where they talk about sharing and kindness and all that crap. It's very ethno-unified, too, although to an overly conspicuous level. Tony is a black man, Viv is a Chinese lady, and each child in the group of three or four that is visiting also MUST be of a different race. I think they've even got an eskimo kid. Let's join hands and all that junk.
Anyhoo, the Wiggles are tolerable (although their songs will get stuck in your head for a whole friggin' day, damn them), and Anthony actually pays attention for that one. I still like to play the Which Wiggle is a Figgle game in my head (for those of you also playing this homegame, the blue wiggle is officially out of the running, he recently had a kid).
Recently Disney just put up a complete nightmare, though. The Doodlebops. There's these three clown-lookin' morons that are called the "Doodlebops", and they are apparently in a 'rock band'. This is exemplified by the fact that they are constantly talking about the 'next show', and there's musical equipment in their psychedelic house. They break into song all too frequently. Actually, I think they may more accurately be a Branch Dividian-esque Cult, because they start their day by lining up in Hitler Youth form and reciting the Doodlebop pledge. The freakish attire on them looks like a disco train wreck on an acid flashback. Seriously, think an early ScoobyDoo band episode (replete with bellbottoms), and then puke up the rainbow on top of that. Mo has a serious issue with his hair, and is bright yellow, while Roody (or Randy, or Robert the Retard for all I can put together) is blue and has something I think is supposed to be a rastafarian explosion of dreadlocks. I forgot what the chick's name is, although since I have no idea the relation of the three (there's no mention of siblingness), I can only assume she's getting DP on a nightly basis. All three of these atrocities have mishapen hands with lumpy 'cartoon' fingers, which I cannot fathom how they play instruments with. Their best friend and mentor is this poor scat-singing black woman named Maz who comes along (out of a bookshelf) and imparts words of obviousness to them in rhyme. Then they sing another dumb song. Then mommy wants to vomit and she can hear her soul being torn from her body. I swear, these things friggin scare me.
Thank god Anthony is amused with my FoodNetwork obsession, or completely disinterested with television entirely by the time the bile comes on, or I think I would seriously hang myself if I had to stomach this shit for any extended length of time.
Dear GOD WHY?!?!?!?!?!
1 comment:
this is great. i like the dp idea, sounds like fun. anyways, we have become a dvd-only family during the day, though i do try to sneak in arthur, sesame street, tween the lions and mr. rogers whenever possible. you already know how i feel bout the four riders of the apocalypse (teletubbies) and their ilk.
mostly, i take every opportunity to shut it off, though this is seldom long-lived.
anyways,
darth sardonic
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