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Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Disgrace of Modern Children's Shows: Toddler Edition
I am going to take a look into modern-day television shows one by one.
Caillou:
My nanny kids watch Caillou quite a bit so I'm basically an expert on this show. For those of you that for some inexcusable reason don't know every kids' television show by name, I will offer a description: This is the show that's about that bald kid that's perpetually four years old. It looks like it's drawn out with crayons. For all of you parents, I highly recommend not looking to this show to give you any insight into parenting. For one thing, it is near impossible to distinguish Caillou's talking from his whining. Not only do they sound similar, they are both almost constantly present.
Secondly, Caillou's younger sister Rosie has some major growth abnormalities. Her age is both ambiguous and confusing. She drinks both juice and milk, meaning she has to be at least one. According to my recollection, she walks a little, but also does some crawling action. In spite of this, she sleeps in a bed, not a crib, which is both dangerous and stupid as a parent. She also can climb out of her bed without the help of anyone else, but for some reason sits and cries in her bed instead 90% of the time. She can also, without a doubt, understand all the conversation going on around her. She laughs at the same thing that everyone else does (as a separate critique, those things are just not funny). I know for a fact that she shouldn't find those things funny because the two-year-old that I watch it with doesn't even get the jokes, much less think they're funny. What's most surprising about her is that she can also speak in almost full sentences. I liken her speaking to that of a foreigner. Her english is improper and she often leaves out conjunctions and prepositions, but she has a full understanding of what she's saying and the words to choose.
The third reason to ignore all parental example given in this show is that no one in that family changes clothes-- ever.
Barney:
Ohhh Barney. No one over the age of ten will disagree that Barney is loud, obnoxious, and obviously unrealistic. I also have a hard time dealing with the mass amount of colors and noises in this show, but that's just a personal thing. The music is way super catchy; consequently, I have songs like "If you're happy and you know it..." or "Clean up, clean up..." or "If all the raindrops..." stuck in my head for days after a single episode.
I have to give the makers of Barney some props though. Unlike most of the other TV shows, Barney is pretty hardcore dedicated to teaching lessons in their episodes. I'm a fan of this because naughty children just... are a bummer.
My biggest problem with Barney has to do with the very premise of every episode. For the uninformed, Barney is a small stuffed animal that comes to life when the kids all come together to play. I can't help but think that all the kids are on some acid trip. How else could they all just imagination everything so vividly? I know it's a grim view, but I can't help it.
Berenstain Bears:
This is actually my favorite of the the toddler-oriented kids shows. It's just kinda cute. It has plots that someone older than the age of five can actually appreciate. But there's a lot of weird things about it, too. To support my case I will simply give you the lyrics to the theme song:
Somewhere deep in Bear Country
Lives the Berenstain Bear family
They're kind of furry around the torso
They're a lot like people, only more so
The bear fact is that
They're just like you and me
The only difference
Is they live in a tree
The Berenstain Bears
When things go wrong as things might do
The Berenstain Bears will find a way through
Mama, Papa, Sister and Brother
They'll always be there for each other
The bear fact is that
They can be sweet as honey
Sometimes you'll find
They might be just plain funny
The Berenstain Bears
The Berenstain Bears
Lives the Berenstain Bear family
They're kind of furry around the torso
They're a lot like people, only more so
The bear fact is that
They're just like you and me
The only difference
Is they live in a tree
The Berenstain Bears
When things go wrong as things might do
The Berenstain Bears will find a way through
Mama, Papa, Sister and Brother
They'll always be there for each other
The bear fact is that
They can be sweet as honey
Sometimes you'll find
They might be just plain funny
The Berenstain Bears
The Berenstain Bears
The only difference is that they live in a tree? Really? Let's just confuse our children's identities until they run around with bear skin clawing things. Great.
Fireman Sam:
This show is awesome if you're looking for an instant headache. I challenge you to spend thirty seconds watching this show. Really. The voices of the characters are unbelievable.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Gotta catch 'em all.
Pokémon seems to be all the rage these days, so I thought it might be appropriate that I tell my personal story as it relates to Pokémon.
My first recognizable memory of Pokémon was the day two new kids moved in at the end of the block. I know for a fact my Pokémon journey started before then, but this is the first time I can cognitively recall. The two new additions to our neighborhood family were quick to assimilate. I remember that night, the older one sat on my front porch with my brother and I until after dark, observing our Pokémon cards. I had some awesome card (I think it was sparkly-- whatever that means), and he wanted to trade with me. He, however, didn't have his cards so he offered me some small plastic version of Nine-Tails. I enthusiastically agreed-- I mean that beats like a million little paper cards, right? Wrong.
Suddenly his mom's voice came loud from down the street, it was time for him to go. He left in a hurry. After we had watched is shadow run towards his mom's voice, my brother and I collected our things and went inside. As we neatly stacked our prized possessions, he informed me that I was just majorally ripped off. I didn't understand. How could a pretty foxish toy not be better than a shiny card? He explained to me that there was no benefit to having toys. Only cards mattered.
I was so angry! Why would someone cheat me like that? To clarify, I think he had fairly honorable intentions. The real question is why Ben waited until afterward to tell me.
Anyway, after that, I was much more careful with myself. Knowing now that trades are just a way to exploit the one with lesser Pokémon knowledge. I was the one with lesser Pokémon knowledge. Always. No matter how much I tried, I always got slighted.
We would all watch Pokémon on TV, followed by Digimon (we did not realize we were being neutral in a heavy rivalry when we watched both; had we known, we would have doubtless chosen Pokémon), and later Yu-Gi-Oh! We would all buy decks of cards, and even play each other after school. Unfortunately, I missed the point of playing the cards. I was too young to really understand, but I knew cards were important, Ben made sure of that. I was determined to be the best. I just needed a lot of cards, then I would "catch them all," or something...
I was extremely disadvantaged as a young Pokémon master, however. I was young, which meant no one would let me play their Gameboy, and I couldn't comprehend the complicated rules of card play. I also had very little income, as compared to the "big kids" who would do endless jobs around the neighborhood to a) blow it all at The Corner Store, and more importantly, b) buy the big packs of Pokémon cards. My biggest downfall, perhaps, was my endless attraction to the completely worthless and useless Pokémon. Chicarita was my favorite. She was so cute! She was green and small and constantly said her name in a high-pitched cuddly voice. I loved her. I would trade anyone anything for a Chicarita. I think I had like twelve. I was convinced that she, as the underdog, could win as empowered by my love. I was wrong.
Eventually I just decided to give up on being the best to everyone else. I was the best to me, and that's all that mattered. Every time Ashley and I would play Pokémon (we played it like it was "house," acting out the narrative as if we were producing the show), I would be Chicarita, and should would choose to be some huge crazy dragon or something. I always "lost," in the game. But I was a winner in real life. I was a winner to me.
A strange turn of events occurred when I became utterly convinced that Pokémon was evil. Someone had told me it was brainwashing hundreds of poor children in Japan to kill themselves. I was terrified that all my friends would turn against themselves, and me, if I didn't do something about it. Oh how impressionable a child can be! So, I determined to destroy my cards. I was done with my past life, and moving on to better things. I could have gotten a small fortune for my collection, but instead I chiseled things into the cards, and ripped them to pieces (plan B, next to burning them).
My first recognizable memory of Pokémon was the day two new kids moved in at the end of the block. I know for a fact my Pokémon journey started before then, but this is the first time I can cognitively recall. The two new additions to our neighborhood family were quick to assimilate. I remember that night, the older one sat on my front porch with my brother and I until after dark, observing our Pokémon cards. I had some awesome card (I think it was sparkly-- whatever that means), and he wanted to trade with me. He, however, didn't have his cards so he offered me some small plastic version of Nine-Tails. I enthusiastically agreed-- I mean that beats like a million little paper cards, right? Wrong.
Suddenly his mom's voice came loud from down the street, it was time for him to go. He left in a hurry. After we had watched is shadow run towards his mom's voice, my brother and I collected our things and went inside. As we neatly stacked our prized possessions, he informed me that I was just majorally ripped off. I didn't understand. How could a pretty foxish toy not be better than a shiny card? He explained to me that there was no benefit to having toys. Only cards mattered.
I was so angry! Why would someone cheat me like that? To clarify, I think he had fairly honorable intentions. The real question is why Ben waited until afterward to tell me.
Anyway, after that, I was much more careful with myself. Knowing now that trades are just a way to exploit the one with lesser Pokémon knowledge. I was the one with lesser Pokémon knowledge. Always. No matter how much I tried, I always got slighted.
We would all watch Pokémon on TV, followed by Digimon (we did not realize we were being neutral in a heavy rivalry when we watched both; had we known, we would have doubtless chosen Pokémon), and later Yu-Gi-Oh! We would all buy decks of cards, and even play each other after school. Unfortunately, I missed the point of playing the cards. I was too young to really understand, but I knew cards were important, Ben made sure of that. I was determined to be the best. I just needed a lot of cards, then I would "catch them all," or something...
I was extremely disadvantaged as a young Pokémon master, however. I was young, which meant no one would let me play their Gameboy, and I couldn't comprehend the complicated rules of card play. I also had very little income, as compared to the "big kids" who would do endless jobs around the neighborhood to a) blow it all at The Corner Store, and more importantly, b) buy the big packs of Pokémon cards. My biggest downfall, perhaps, was my endless attraction to the completely worthless and useless Pokémon. Chicarita was my favorite. She was so cute! She was green and small and constantly said her name in a high-pitched cuddly voice. I loved her. I would trade anyone anything for a Chicarita. I think I had like twelve. I was convinced that she, as the underdog, could win as empowered by my love. I was wrong.
Eventually I just decided to give up on being the best to everyone else. I was the best to me, and that's all that mattered. Every time Ashley and I would play Pokémon (we played it like it was "house," acting out the narrative as if we were producing the show), I would be Chicarita, and should would choose to be some huge crazy dragon or something. I always "lost," in the game. But I was a winner in real life. I was a winner to me.
A strange turn of events occurred when I became utterly convinced that Pokémon was evil. Someone had told me it was brainwashing hundreds of poor children in Japan to kill themselves. I was terrified that all my friends would turn against themselves, and me, if I didn't do something about it. Oh how impressionable a child can be! So, I determined to destroy my cards. I was done with my past life, and moving on to better things. I could have gotten a small fortune for my collection, but instead I chiseled things into the cards, and ripped them to pieces (plan B, next to burning them).
Monday, February 21, 2011
The Worship Screen
Today in church I noticed something I had never noticed before: the worship screen.
Now if you just read that and thought, "How could she possibly miss that all these years? Those things are huge!" then you have a problem that will be addressed shortly. In fact, I have noticed the existence of the the big screens that go over the stage where the pastor speaks. In fact, my church has two. But what I discovered today was the particular adjective-noun combination of worship screens. "Now please direct your attention to the worship screens," said the worship leader. And just after everyone had thought they were done worshiping! Little did they know, the TVs they were about to watch were actually worship TVs. Man, those churches just force you in to worshiping in all kinds of ways.
But what makes a screen of the worshipful variety?
Is it the screen itself? Do churches have a special connection with manufacturers that sell only TVs that have been made with products dipped in holy water, or blessed by Jesus Christ himself? Hmm... That seems outrageously unlikely.
Perhaps it's the money used to buy the screen that makes a worship one? Maybe the fact that it was bought by the money given to offering makes it holy. Hey! That's why they emphasize tithing so much. After all, we sure as hell don't want to be looking at any pagan screens in church. This is slightly more probable.
Maybe it's the simple fact that it's in church? I mean, after all, we call the guy who sings songs the worship leader. The room of choice for congragating is often called The Worship Center, and the service is called The Worship Service. It only naturally follows that we called the screens worship screens. If this is true (which it most likely is), we can expect that soon more inanimate objects will follow in this worshipful renaming. At the end of each service the pastor will kindly dismiss us out the worship doors. There will be cute little signs outside the sanctuary asking that no food or drink be omitted for fear it will spill on the worship carpet. Hearty remarks will be made about the awesome sounds that guy made on the worship drumset last week.
Like I said before, the last option is far more logical than the others. After all, we all know that the same money used to buy the church's TV could have been used to buy yours. Not to mention, you could buy the same TV for your house (we're just assuming churches really don't buy from special Worship Markets that hand-dip them in holy water) that was bought for the church and it wouldn't be called a worship screen. I can just see Dad after supper, "Hey can someone turn on the worship screen? I wanna watch the football game tonight."
In conclusion, when anything (or anyone, mind you) enters The Worship Center, you have free reign to add the word worship before referring to it/them. It is in that spirit that I admonish you to greet all your friends. "Hey worship Jack!"
Now if you just read that and thought, "How could she possibly miss that all these years? Those things are huge!" then you have a problem that will be addressed shortly. In fact, I have noticed the existence of the the big screens that go over the stage where the pastor speaks. In fact, my church has two. But what I discovered today was the particular adjective-noun combination of worship screens. "Now please direct your attention to the worship screens," said the worship leader. And just after everyone had thought they were done worshiping! Little did they know, the TVs they were about to watch were actually worship TVs. Man, those churches just force you in to worshiping in all kinds of ways.
But what makes a screen of the worshipful variety?
Is it the screen itself? Do churches have a special connection with manufacturers that sell only TVs that have been made with products dipped in holy water, or blessed by Jesus Christ himself? Hmm... That seems outrageously unlikely.
Perhaps it's the money used to buy the screen that makes a worship one? Maybe the fact that it was bought by the money given to offering makes it holy. Hey! That's why they emphasize tithing so much. After all, we sure as hell don't want to be looking at any pagan screens in church. This is slightly more probable.
Maybe it's the simple fact that it's in church? I mean, after all, we call the guy who sings songs the worship leader. The room of choice for congragating is often called The Worship Center, and the service is called The Worship Service. It only naturally follows that we called the screens worship screens. If this is true (which it most likely is), we can expect that soon more inanimate objects will follow in this worshipful renaming. At the end of each service the pastor will kindly dismiss us out the worship doors. There will be cute little signs outside the sanctuary asking that no food or drink be omitted for fear it will spill on the worship carpet. Hearty remarks will be made about the awesome sounds that guy made on the worship drumset last week.
Like I said before, the last option is far more logical than the others. After all, we all know that the same money used to buy the church's TV could have been used to buy yours. Not to mention, you could buy the same TV for your house (we're just assuming churches really don't buy from special Worship Markets that hand-dip them in holy water) that was bought for the church and it wouldn't be called a worship screen. I can just see Dad after supper, "Hey can someone turn on the worship screen? I wanna watch the football game tonight."
In conclusion, when anything (or anyone, mind you) enters The Worship Center, you have free reign to add the word worship before referring to it/them. It is in that spirit that I admonish you to greet all your friends. "Hey worship Jack!"
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The day I had the "holl" day off school.
Translation:
One day I had the whole day off school. I got so happy! I went outside and made an igloo. Then I got cold so I went inside. I drank some hot cocoa with marshmallows. Then I looked outside and there was a whole bunch of snow in the yard.
I continue by saying:
"So I went outside agen. This time I maed a ice casil. It was vresing inside so I went inside and walk upstairs to my room but I didn't take my shoos off. Then I took 5 blankits and put them inside my casil. Then I went back to my room and pulled out my monny. Then went down stars I asked my mom if me and her could go to the stor. She said yes, so we did. I butt 12 boxes of hot coca. Then when we got home I put them in my casil. But I didn't have anything to drink with si I ask my mom if I could ues some of her mogs and she said yes. Then I put them in the casil. So finaly I took my mom outside into the casil. She freet out. Then we maed people pay $2.00 for a twer of the ice casil."
Goal accomplished. Mom freeted out.
Todd: A Very Sad Man
Translation:
Todd was a very sad man. He was sad because he did not get to go to a ball game. He loves! Ball games. His friend does not. His friend's favorite word is dude, but Todd's favorite word is ball. Todd and his friend are very different (I mean come on! They have different favorite words!), but they are friends, best friends.
Sometimes I still get "bycas" and "because" mixed up. I mean they're so similar...
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Illiterate Child
One day there was a small fire two blocks away from my house. Me and my friend wanted to go check it out so we walked to where it was supposed to be, but it wasn't there. But some people were giving cats to people, we we wanted some. So we took four home. It ended up that we had to give two away. We were sad but we dealt with it. We named them Teddy and Punk.
My name is Joanna and I am conceited.
Truth be told, journal entries like this actually are the fruit of utter humiliation. Cool and fun were quite literally some of the only words I knew how to spell.
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