Monday, February 21, 2005

The original plan, if I may reminisce for an evening, was to turn our enterprise into a family-friendly destination, a brand that would leap instantly to mind between episodes of Sesame Street and rounds of Dogopoly. Secondhand Rants? Gee wilikers, momma, I would prefer it over tapioca pudding and my weekly allowance.

And then, for reasons I will never unearth, we took a seriously wrong turn somewhere and drove straight into a ditch. Readers smart and eclectic, gentle readers such as yourself, aided in perverting our unflappable moral compass. I believe you actually ripped the glass face clean off the device and started playing with the needle, twisting it and bending it in unseemly directions. Yes, it’s entirely your fault.

Our title is also at fault. A rant, by its very nature, lives extremely far away from love letters, poems, cups of giggles, that sort of business. It’s an angry form of speech. That’s why things work differently around these parts. Since Sesame Street should still be fresh in our minds, let’s use the beloved series to illustrate this point. Observe.

[Warm, Fuzzy, Ooshy-Gooshy Land of Make-believe]
“Good day, Oscar! What a wonderful morning! Notice my lustrous yellow plumes, you grumpy green creature, and marvel at how I manage to keep clean without showering,” says Big Bird on a sunny morning.

“Indeed it is a miracle, my happy yellow friend, but alas I’m damned to a life of depression. Oh, and I’m fused to a trash can,” replies our favorite misanthrope.

“Oscar! I’m having trouble speaking without exclamation marks! For starters, we never, ever use the ‘D’ word,” admonishes the Bird.

“You mean da–” but Oscar is cut short.

“Yes, that word, we never use it. We farm out the work of explaining vulgarities to Bert, Ernie, and Count Chocula, or whatever he’s called,” he chirps.

“You mean the funny-looking purple guy?” Oscar asks. “Don’t trust him. He isn’t from the States. Here, have some rotten eggs.”

“Thank you, Oscar! I love how you SHARE. Sharing, kids, got that? Also xenophobia,” explains Big Bird to the viewers. “Another concept we’ll learn today is BEING THANKFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE.”

“But I don’t have anything!” wails Oscar.

“There, there, my putrid companion. You have your garbage can, don’t you?” says Big Bird patiently, condescendingly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do,” admits Oscar after a pause. “You know, you’re right! Omigosh, I found my exclamation mark! Happy days are here again!”

[Our Town]
“Good day, Oscar! What a wonderful morning! Notice my lustrous yellow plumes, you grumpy green creature, and marvel at how I manage to keep clean without showering,” says Big Bird on a sunny morning.

“Shut up, you gangly moron! Shut up! Shut the hell up, you damn fool clown! How’s that for exclamation points, eh? Only reason you’re here is because some subsistence farmer dropped you off near Chernobyl because you were too freakish to eat!” screams Oscar.

“Oscar? You need a hug. Let me give you a hug,” says Big Bird quickly and patronizingly. “Come here, you fuzzy wuzzy.”

“Don’t touch me, I’m warning you! I don’t have too many months to live, plus you might infect me with your AVIAN FLU. Hear that, kids? It’s right up there with frickin’ SARS. DAMN SARS. DAMN AVIAN FLU. DAMN, DAMN, DAMN,” Oscar continues to fly off the handle.

“The kids, Oscar, think of the kids!” cries Big Bird as he backs toward the adjoining street, Opium Boulevard.

“No, I’m done thinking about the kids. Finito. I hate them! Here, why don’t you take this used condom I found in my ‘living room’ and stuff it in your artificially orange beak? That should fill my sharing quota for the day,” yells Oscar with a slam of his fist.

“But Oscar, aren’t you thankful for a home? I know a lot of people who would give so much to be in your place!” reminds Big Bird cheerily.

“Like who?” shoots back Oscar.

“Um–”

“Exactly what I thought. I hate this no-frills metal can. It’s an unmitigated piece of shit. Hear that, kids? We learned another word today! UNMITIGATED. And SHIT!” he growls.

“Oscar!”

“I’m not thankful for this, you big yellow turd!” concludes Oscar. “I only fly Rubbermaid. Don’t you forget that.”

[Unrepentant]
This is how it goes. Let’s talk about bumper stickers tomorrow.