21 January 2005
The elevation of the national snout
You know this person, right?
"Oh, Muffy and I only watch educational shows or public television. Everything else is just dreadful. We just don't understand people who watch those what do you call them? oh yes, sitcoms. The bane of society, I tell you." Meanwhile, the guy knows damn well that you watch not only sitcoms, but cartoons, reality shows and late night movies with gratuitous sex and violence. He's talking at you, not to you.
And it doesn't stop with television, either:
There are musical elitists, book snobs, movie purists. They will scoff at your album collection, laugh at your bookshelf and recoil in horror at your DVD purchases. They will think less of you if own any romance novels. Never mind that you have a PhD, you spend ten hours a week volunteering at the homeless shelter and you take in stray cats. You're a lower class of human being because you own the Skid Row box set. You'll be the scourge of the next MENSA meeting when word gets out about your Harlequin collection.
I've mentioned before that I own both a complete Wagner Ring cycle and seven Debbie Gibson albums, and that doesn't even begin to cover the prodigious amount of stuff scattered (since I haven't had the time or the wherewithal to scrounge up new shelves) through my so-called library (which contains a romance or three), or the insults to the national cultural elite contained therein.
But I'll say this much: I can dash off a decent Shakespeare parody in fifteen minutes, and I can sing you almost anything from The Partridge Family Album. And if you see something wrong with that, perhaps it's the angle of your head: your nose extends too far into the air.Posted at 8:00 AM to Almost Yogurt