First off, I’m aware that the title of this post makes it sound like it should be in the latest issue of American Pharmaceuticals or Playboy. Ha, ha. Have your laugh so we can get on with it.
Has the world gotten too cruel for highbrow potty humor? Has satire been relegated to AFV (the new hip version of America’s Funniest Home Videos)?
Today I sit on the blog-o-hilltop in sackcloth and ashes lamenting the current condition of the thinking man’s schlock. But what, Mr. Redneck Granola, exactly is thinking man’s schlock. And are you sure you don’t just have a bad case of heartburn? Or maybe you had too many jalapeños on your pizza last night?
Yes, I did have too many jalapeños on my pizza, but that’s a separate issue. For now I’m talking about the sort of cheap entertainment our society used to cherish. Films such as Blazing Saddles and Airplane, or the poetry of Ogden Nash and Edward Lear (whatever happened to the limerick?).
Are these artistic endeavors to subtle for the modern mind? Or have we grown too subtle for them? Why have these once cherished traditions faltered? Here at the Green Porch we aren’t about blame. But in this case, I blame the recent rash of emoticons across the world wide web.
The emoticon is slayer of the subtle and destroyer of the middle path. It’s siren song and ease of use has dashed two whole generations of humans against the towering rocks of oblivion. I ask you, dear reader, have we grown so dense that we can no longer interpret the mood or meaning of a text, email or status update lest it contain a smiley or frowney face?
And the need for brevity is no excuse. You might argue 140 characters does not allow room for suggestiveness, subtlety or satire. Doesn’t it?
Sure, the internets are rife with Schlock. But what we’ve lost is the breed of schlock that makes you stop and think–the sort of easily accessible brilliance of Looney Tunes, enjoyed by both young and old for generations. Sometimes a football to the groin truly is genius.[divider]
Now it’s up to you, dear reader. A select few artists are out there punting footballs left and right. Will you be the stolid individual brave enough to project your groin in front of one?