Young adult books teach better lessons than the grown up stuff.

{ September 2, 2009 @ 5:56 am } · { Personal, Youth }
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Let’s face it. Not only do these teen reads often have better lessons to be learned, but they’re often a helluva a lot more entertaining.

I can’t remember the last time that I couldn’t put an aged-adult book down, but I will whole-heartedly admit to keeping odd hours when reading series like Harry Potter and Twilight (sadly).

Tonight, I meant to climb into bed about 10pm, read a chapter or so of this young adult novel entitled Evolution, Me & Other Freaks of Nature by Robin Brande. Yet here it is, 12:30 am and I’m still up, just having finished the book. And now I’m stuck writing this damn inspired entry to the blog. For those of you out o’ the loop, I’m no longer a college student, but rather a teacher (what a fucking sell-out I am, huh?) who needs to wake up by 6:15am in order to look presentable for the chillins who envy my ability to wear anything but standard attire. So it’s kind of a big deal for me to stay up this far past my bedtime.

But I can’t help myself! This book has managed to completely express the way that I feel about religion and schools, teach me some things that I didn’t know about both science AND the Bible, and completely capture my heart. All this inside a cover featuring the hot pink outline of a teen girl with a heart-shaped cut out over her breast. Talk about not judging a book by its cover.

If we turn to look at a comparable “adult” book, we’re left with a number of factual texts on the Scopes trial. Wahoo. I can speak from experience here as a former student who was assigned one of these more mature selections and say that they’re total crap. I mean, snag one up if you’re into law. But if you’re looking for a text about societal tensions and the real issues behind the case, pick up Ms. Brande’s featured selection. It’s more of a winner.

And to a more general point, have a look at the books being made into films these days. They’re all dramas or romances. Where are the books with COMEDY? The books with fast-paced actions? Apparently they went out when Ian Fleming perished. Oh, Miss Moneypenny, you taught me so much about life and being the girl who just hung around the sexiest man ever. I use your lessons daily. But you get the idea. The number of “can’t-put-em-down” books is much higher in young adult novels and creative nonfiction.

Why aren’t adult books as meaningful and gripping as often as teen reads are? I have a few theories, some more generous than others, that I’m willing to share for the good of the internet nation.

  1. Adults want other adults to think they’re smart, so they dance around the point in their novels a lot.
  2. It makes us feel grown up to read boring books, so there’s actually a market for them.
  3. Many adult authors spend far too much time describing things like dark brooding or tumescence. Not so much of that in young adult books.
  4. Teens are more curious than adults. They want to know everything and therefore are open to a broader range of topics.
  5. To go with #4, teen minds are far more impressionable and molded, many teen authors may be unable to resist the urge to “make a difference.”
  6. Teen reads = drama drama drama. Face it. We’re human. Even if we hate drama to the point of being unable to stomach Mean Girls without eating a full tube of raw cookie dough because of PSTD from our high school years, we’re always willing to read about someone else’s drama. That, my good friends at Avenue Q would say, is schadenfraude. Everybody does it.

If you’re an adult who refuses to read young adult novels because they’re too “immature,” I have one thing to say to you: so’s your face.

Oh, what? You think a teen read would be just too short for you to get all the benefits of such an exercise? That’s what she said.

I could go all day with this. (See above.)

It’s an acquired gift. It comes with the territory of being a young adult book reader. But I can also hands-down win any argument about politics, religion, pop culture or societal issues because that knowledge comes with the territory as well. Young adult books just teach better lessons than grown up books.

The US needs to give the Statue of Liberty back.

{ July 12, 2009 @ 7:24 am } · { Uncategorized }
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For those of you who are not aware, our beloved symbol of freedom was a gift from France. According to what I remember of my American history class, France gave it to us on our (America’s) 100th birthday.

I have to admit, it’s a pretty sweet gift. I don’t even want to know how they managed to get it over here and assemble it. The people of France were really psyched about our budding relationship, and since the idea of a “love fern” had yet to be popularized by the unstoppable force of Kate Hudson, they gave us a lady statue. 

While at the time, we thought it was a gift of “friendship,” in hindsight I’m fully willing to ascertain that the gift was actually a love trinket. I mean, the official story is that it was a gift wrought of the close bond France and the US formed during our glorious revolution. I am not fooled.

Basically what went down was that in our time of need, we flirted with the class nerd (France). We used the nerd’s skills to help us on the final exam to move onto the next grade level (independence), all the while leading the nerd to believe that not only did we like him, but we liked him liked him. But we never actually intended to go out with him, and once the project was over, we still accepted an expensive birthday gift. What a bitch America is.

Also, I should point out that this is clearly a “I’m getting some later tonight” gift. Not only is Lady Liberty basically in a sheet, she’s holding a phallic love torch, suitable for fanning the flame of passion, and her little scroll has a romantic poem on it. What could be more of a panty-dropper than:
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” ?

Sex-ay. Let’s just throw some Barry White-worthy bass lines in there, light a few scented candles and it is a perfect evening. 

Of course, we got through the honeymoon stage of our relationship quite some time ago. In fact, we have had quite the on-again, off-again relationship. But it hasn’t been good for a while now, and I’m sorry, but it’s time to admit that we’re not just on a break. We’re over. We’ve moved on. Did you see the way Michelle Obama hugged the Queen earlier this year? I think it’s pretty clear that the US and GB are back on.

Hell, we might even move in together. At the very least, we’re going to have joint custody of one of those new Obama Chia pets. And hey, we’re progressive, we’re into open relationships. So before you know it, we’re going to have a full social calendar with dates from Canada, Australia, Russia – you get the drift. I mean, look at the progress we made on Governor Sanford’s goodwill missions to Argentina.

But for our new relationships to flourish, we need to get rid of our Lady Liberty and stick a gift from the new suitors up in its place. It’s simple. If you get remarried, are you going to expect your new hubby to put up with that boob-tattoo of your old one’s name? Nope. At the very least, he’s going to make you stop wearing low cut shirts and possibly ask you to call him “Ralph” in bed. And we need to be willing to do that for our new friends with benefits.

It’s time to break out the ex-boyfriend box and make some room, or maybe get a really big DHL envelope and save up for international shipping. Because the US needs to give the Statue of Liberty back.

The Devil was better than Johnny.

{ March 11, 2009 @ 4:40 pm } · { General Info, Religion }
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Anyone familiar with the song ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia?’ If you’re not, then you’re clearly not American. Or perhaps you’ve just never visited the South. Either way, this has no meaning for you, so stop reading.

As much as I hate to admit that the Charlie Daniels Band actually created a song worth listening to, I love this particular tune. But never fear, the country stars still managed to mess this song up somehow. 

We – the audience, the listeners at home – are presented with two examples of just delightful fiddle playing. It’s revealed that Johnny has won the fiddle-off, he gets the golden fiddle and he keeps his soul. Leaving the rest of us wondering:

Wtf? 

Did you even listen to that? I mean, sure Johnny was pretty damn good, a lot better than I could ever do, but the devil TOTALLY kicked ass. His part had depth, a backup chorus, and musical tension. He even gave us a resolution instead of just a lot of really fast repetition. Daniels claims that he meant to make it that way to show that the devil was just all “smoke and mirrors” and that Johnny had the real talent, but here’s the thing: it sounds like he spent an awfully long time dreaming up the devil’s part. It’s complicated, it lures you in, and despite the fact that Daniels CLAIMS it has no melody, there’s a kick-ass bass track underneath it. Charlie Daniels doesn’t understand that audiences want something fresh and new, not just some lame “skill.”

Who the hell judged this competition? The devil’s ex-lover? I mean, that’s the only way it makes sense. If this were a call on Monday night football, the stadium would be booing, coaches would be calling for a review of the play, and cheese curls would be all over the floor of every red-blooded American’s home while they jumped up and down on the couch Tom Cruise-style.

Until recently, I thought that I was the only person on the face of the planet who thought that the devil totally kicked the devil’s ass in this competition. It’s been brought to my attention that this is a fairly common issue with people who have musical taste. Thankfully, Guitar Hero recognizes that the devil’s a total badass by using him as the ultimate final challenge in Guitar Hero III. I bet he puts up one hell of a fight with his smoke and mirrors. And talent.

Perhaps, then, this isn’t what NO ONE wants to know, but rather what the Charlie Daniels Band doesn’t want to know. Oh, and God. He’s not so pleased about it, either.

Glamour knows nothing about men.

{ February 18, 2009 @ 5:09 am } · { General Info, Personal }
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Dear Glamour,

What the hell are you thinking? We hate you and your female readers.

Sincerely, men.

Okay, so that’s in no way a real letter to the editors of Glamour, as far as I know. But after reading an article entitled “7 Things a Guy’s Bedroom Says About Him,” I would not be surprised to find similar letters in the Glamour offices. The main difference? More profanity. More anger. In man-writing.

Turns out, Glamour knows nothing about men. The article in question is incredibly offensive in regards to men, choosing to file them away by domestic behaviors. I like to walk through things – especially heinous things – and so we’ll take it step by step. 

1. If his bed’s unmade, he might be a mama’s boy. 

Okay, or he’s just busy. Or lazy. Or he doesn’t see the point. I mean, my mom never made up my bed once Aunt Flo started coming, and five days out of seven my bed is unmade, ready for me to jump into at any moment. 

2. If he has a plant, that means he’s nurturing.

I would also add, “or he’s a cheater.” Men traditionally don’t buy plants. Their mothers or girlfriends GIVE them plants (see How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days). And if that plant’s not dead, that means that someone more important than you gave them this plant. Dump him, you’re not the number one priority. Perhaps I’m not being fair. One of my male friends DID actually buy himself a plant or two, I’ll have to ask his boyfriends if they see that as a sign of his “nurturing” impulse. Even if your guy DID buy a plant and DOES like vaginas, a plant means that he’s going to spending money on fertilizer instead of saving up for that pony you want. No good.

3. If he has a guitar, it makes him old school.

No, it makes him a wannabe John Mayer. Or it makes him misunderstood. Or it means that he sits up at night, trying to write the perfect song to win your heart. None of these are necessarily bad, in fact I would consider the fact that he has a REAL guitar as opposed to just a Guitar Hero set a plus. Sadly, Glamour appears to think that it means your boo lives in the dark ages. How low can we sink?

4. If he has weights, he likes his arms and wants you to notice them.

Or it means that he’s less American, aka less out-of-shape and lazy. Or it means that he WANTS to be less out-of-shape and lazy. Check dust levels to differentiate between these two options.

5. If there are clothes on a chair, it means he’s not anal.

How we went from messiness being a sign of a mama’s boy to a sign of a laid-back attitude, I’ll never know. This could, in fact, mean that he doesn’t have OCD. But let’s remember what YOUR room looks like when you’re getting ready in the morning. Any similarities to this one? That’s what I thought. Now you only have to decide whether his inability to pick up the mess before you come over is a result of his busy schedule, his desperate need to see you in his bedroom whenever, or his lack of concern for your opinion of him. I personally find the middle one most flattering.

6. If there are photos on the wall, it means he’s sentimental and/or stuck in the past.

Yes, many sentimental people keep mementos lying around. Many other people use photos as ways to fill up space and make an apartment more than four blank walls. Don’t read too much into photos, unless they’re all just headshots of him. Then you should run screaming for the door. After a tiny little make-out session, because I’m assuming those pictures aren’t hard to look at. And if they’re on a cork board, chances are we’re dealing with a failure to upgrade from coed dormlife.

7. If he has a rug, he’s an adult.

Please note that a great number of freshmen I was once responsible for keeping in line owned rugs. So unless you would call throwing up a bowl of red Jello shots all Halloween night or hosting a rave with glow-in-the-dark body paint in your dorm room adult activities, I wouldn’t count on a rug showing maturity and a sense of responsibility. Just sayin’.

Women, I beg of you to find other alternatives to get a good read on your man. Because while I know many people who consider Glamour to be of a higher level than Cosmopolitan (undoubtedly their editors do), I feel that in reality this article proves that they are not. Kudos, Conde Nast, for keeping Glamour editors on your payroll and firing those bitches over at Domino who actually create content readers can use. God, it almost seemed as though having men on the Domino staff went against the grain, since I can’t imagine any men being on the Glamour staff.

Clearly. Because Glamour knows nothing about men.

Barack Obama is the new President Elect

{ November 7, 2008 @ 4:06 pm } · { Personal, Political, Religion }
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That’s right, those of you who voted for McCain, Obama won. Now will you please understand that no matter how much you cry, whine, and compare Barack to a terrorist, he’s still going to be president.

Obama won the election because he’s going to give us change. I wish he could give us all a giant hug, but he can’t. He’s just normal man sized, and he’d need giant arms to hug all of America. So I’ll settle for change.

I’m not sure what legitimate reason people have to be scared of Obama. I understand people who don’t agree with or don’t understand his liberal policies, but that doesn’t mean that you should be scared of him. If I were scared of everything that I didn’t understand, I’d never be able to look at numbers ever again. How inconvenient. My conclusion is that everyone must be believing the false information that has been circulating about Barack. I’ll attempt to dispell your misgivings now.

  • Obama is not Muslim. He’s a Christian. There was a huge scandal about his preacher, so you should know this by now…
  • He did not go to a Muslim seminary. Those are rumors.
  • He’s not anti-American. He loves America. Chicago in particular, but America as a whole, as well.
  • He is not a socialist. He just cares about the country. Does liberalism lean toward socialism? Yes it does, but it’s definitely not and you would get that with any Democratic candidate, so don’t single out Barack for this.
  • He’s not racist. Haven’t you figured out that his mom is white? Because helloooo, she is.

I hope that this will help put some of your minds at ease. I realize that not all of you will care that the rumors aren’t true, and that some of you might be upset for other reasons. And I respect that, but I still think it’s a shame. The rest of the world is celebrating, and it’s sad that you all are left out of it. But I’m certain that you’re going to be celebrating in no time. Just wait until Obama’s in office and starts fixing our education system. You’ll understand then, and if you don’t, then tough cookies.

Because Barack Obama is the new president elect.

Your favorite songs are secretly scandalous.

{ October 13, 2008 @ 4:50 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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The original title for this entry? Your favorite songs are secretly dirty. But I realized that this title left out one of my favorite scandalous songs. SO I decided to switch it up a bit. 

I know what you’re thinking, there’s no way that my favorite song is secretly scandalous. And I’ll be honest, if your favorite song is a hymn or a concerto, then you’re right, it’s not.  So you two groups of music-lovers are safe. Congratulations. Now for the rest of you. I’ll prove that some of the most popular and innocent-seeming songs are scandalous, even children’s songs. In fact, the children’s songs I’m intending on using are fairly obvious. I’ll start with them.

Children’s Songs
Song #1: Puff the Magic Dragon
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called honah lee.
A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened, jackie paper came no more
And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

This song is about smoking pot. If you don’t know this already, God help you. And actually, it’s kind of sweet and nostalgic, because if you think about it, it’s pretty much about how eventually high schoolers and college students will have to grow out of their pot-smoking hippie stage and grow up to become Republican warriors against drugs. It’s almost like they’re stabbing their best friend in the back when all their best friend ever did was take them on wild and crazy adventures. Luckily, stupid people will continue to reproduce, and so there will always be plenty of teens and Greek students to hang out with poor ol’ Puff.

Song #2: I’ll Make A Man Out Of You
Tranquil as a forest but on fire within
Once you find your center, you are sure to win
You’re a spineless, pale, pathetic lot
And you haven’t got a clue
Somehow I’ll make a man out of you 

I have to start by saying that I love this song. I will belt it out driving down the highway, just so long as I’m going too fast for anyone in any of the other cars to hear. I mean, Donny Osmond rocks my face off in this song. But let’s look over these lyrics, and then consider the context. Glance back up at them, yeah. On fire within? Once you find your center? Oh Donny, how many times did you have to record this to get a usable track that you’re not busting into laughter during? Because for reals, yo. Out of context this is hella dirty. Even IN context, when we’re talking about the fact that they’re all army men, and that they’re doing some “manly bonding” activities without women around? Yeah. Disney, thank you. Thank you for this song that is hilariously scandalous on so many levels.

Jazz
Song #3: Let’s Do It
Cold Cape Cod clams, ‘gainst their wish, do it
Even lazy jellyfish, do it
Let’s do it, let’s fall in love
Electric eels I might add do it
Though it shocks em I know
Why ask if shad do it – Waiter bring me
“shad roe”
In shallow shoals English soles do it
Goldfish in the privacy of bowls do it
Let’s do it, let’s fall in love 

I adore this song. I think it’s fairly self-explanatory, which is why I picked it to follow the Children’s songs. If not, then I’ll help you out with a little visual. I performed this particular song at my junior year recital, staged as though I was getting ready to go out for the evening. At one point, I’m in a “bathtub” singing the verses above and winking at the audience of parents. The rest of the performance is spent in front of the mirror in a bathrobe, putting on make-up. Winner. 

Soundtrack
Song #4: Run and Tell That! and Ladies’ Choice
The blacker the berry
The sweeter the juice
I could say it ain’t so
But darlin’, what’s the use?
The darker the chocolate
The richer the taste

Hey little girl take me off the shelf
‘Cause it’s hard having fun playing with yourself
Once you’ve browsed through the whole selection
Shake those hips in my direction
A prettier package you never did see
Take me home then unwrap me

We’ll start with Run and Tell That!. I adore this song for so many reasons. The number one reason is that Seaweed is freaking adorable. The number two reason is that it’s about “jungle fever.” Basically they’re saying that black men are better in bed – or more literally that they taste better, knowing cough – than white men. I don’t know whether that’s true or not first hand, but I have to admit that they generally ARE better dancers. The song doesn’t try to hide the message behind much, which is delightful considering all the Disney Channel/Nickelodeon stars involved. They might as well have added the phrase “once you go black, you never go back.” Poor little Amanda Bynes had no chance.

If Run and Tell That! was a thinly veiled message, pretty boy Zac Ephron’s Ladies’ Choice song isn’t veiled at all. It’s out there. He might as well be singing on a street corner looking like a hot trannie mess, because it’s 100% obvious that he’s saying he sells himself to women. My favorite part is that they go where few songs have gone before: into the forbidden realm of female masturbation. And there are plenty of girls in America who would love to unwrap Mr. Ephron. Just check out next week’s Entertainment and his photo layout.

Song #5: Amazing Mayzie and How Lucky You Are
And he told me 
What sort of a pill I should take… 
Now I’m …… 
Amayzing Mayzie! 
As feathered as feathered can be now! 
Amayzing Mayzie! 
It was all for sale! 
It was three weeks of bliss. 
Then the usual segue: 
He flew off to San Juan 
Leaving me with this egg!
Tell yourself 
How lucky you are! 

So basically, the first song is talking about Mazie wanting to look her best in order to…what’s the phrase? Give a guy a hummer? Yeah, and so she succumbs to the Hollywood pressures to get fixed up by a doctor and his miracle pill. Fabulous. No fake boobs for her, just the sexy, sexy feathers. Way to go, Seussical. You’re like Barbie for birds. But unfortunately for Mazie, her life isn’t as picture perfect as the real Barbie, because there’s no Ken doll in the picture to take care of the baby. He exited stage left once they finished playing their pelvic pinochle game…okay, so he came back for rematch after rematch but then bolted after  three weeks. Turns out Mazie may have won the battle but lost the not-being-preggers war. And another single mother is born. Anyone else feel like this is the true story of the mom-bird in Are You My Mother?.

Country
Song #6: She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy by Kenny Chesney
She thinks my tractor’s sexy 
It really turns her on 
She’s always staring at me 
While I’m chuggin along 
She likes the way it’s pullin’ while we’re tillin’ up the land 
She’s even kind of crazy ’bout my farmer’s tan 
She’s the only one who really understands what gets me 
She thinks my tractor’s sexy

Okay, so obviously, there’s the whole “sexy tractor” thing. And you’re thinking, what the hell – girl I don’t even know her name – this isn’t work. I expected better. And so you should. But I think that perhaps you’re missing some of the delightful agri-rotica that is in this particular song. I mean, him driving a tractor seems a little like a game of hide-the-pickle. Tilling up the land = plowing, for you city folk. And what do frat boys mean when they say they plowed some girl last night? That’s right. Let’s not pretend that these people are talking about love, it’s all about knockin’ boots.

Song #7: Last Name by Carrie Underwood
We left, the club, right around 3 o’clock in the morning
His Pinto, sitting there, in the parking lot, well it should have been a warning
I had no clue what I was getting into
So, I’ll blame it on the Cuervo
Oh where did my manners go?

This one is more about the SINGER masquerading as wholesome rather than the song. Carrie Underwood worked her way into America’s heart by being that smiling southern belle who could bring any Southern Baptist worth their salt to tears with her mega-hit “Jesus Take The Wheel” on American Idol. But really, she’s nothing but a huge sell-out in one way or another. Because either she’s a good Christian Girl who wrote this whore song about shtooping some guy she just met to appease sexually active teens, or she’s actually just a huge slut that tapped into the religious market to win America’s votes. I’m hoping it’s the second one. That’s just better. But then again, who really knows the last names of the men that they meet anyway?

Oldies
Song #8: Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations
Why do you build me up (Build me up) 
Buttercup baby just to 
let me down (Let me down) 
And mess me around 

Ah, The Foundations. I’m so glad to know that they gave every man in the 60s a song to point to, as if to say, “See? Blue balls DO exist. Now let’s do it.” Guys. Seriously. If you’re going to date a tease, then just go ahead and bring along a portable cold shower. BUT IT’S THE FREAKING SIXTIES. If you’re that desperate to get laid, just score some pot and go hang out on the quad. Some nice hippie girl will come along and ask you to help her express her sexual freedom.

Song #9: Jump For My Love by The Pointer Sisters
Can feel it in your heart beat
I know you like what you see
Hold me, I’ll give that you need
Wrap your love around me
You’re so excited, I can feel you
Getting hotter, oh baby
I’ll take you down, I’ll take you down
Where no one’s ever gone before

These ladies know they’re hot, and they know you want them. This is a song all about the foreplay. The next time that you’re trying to convince some fine young man to join you for a roll in the hay, why don’t you try, “C’mere, baby. Wrap your love around me,” with plenty of eyebrow wiggles. Just make sure that you wait until the appropriate temperature, don’t let him get too hott, or it’ll all be ruined, which means that you won’t even get a chance to take him down. He’ll do it himself. And unless The Pointer Sisters were huge Captain Kirk fans, I’m pretty sure that place where no one’s ever gone before is a sexual reference. The possibilities for what specifically it is are endless. 

Rock
Song #10: Hash Pipe by Weezer
I cant help my feelings, Ill go out of my mind
These players come to get me cause theyd like my behind
I cant love my business if I cant get a trick
Down on santa monica where tricks are for kids
Oh, come on and kick me
Oh, come on and kick me
Come on and kick me
Youve got your problems
Ive got my ass wipe
Youve got your big cheese
Ive got my hash pipe
I cant help my boogies they get out of control
I know that you dont care but I want you to know
The knee-stocking flavor is a favorite treat
Of men that dont bother with the taste of a teat 

Well first of all, before we even delve into the lyrics, there’s the fact that Weezer has freely admitted that the song was inspired by a male transvestite prostitute from Santa Monica. Winner, right? Now, reading through this, it’s obvious what they’re talking about. Men paying other men to shtup them. The trick to fooling the general public in this song was a trick employed by rappers and hip hop artists worldwide: making your lyrics indiscernible. I’m pretty sure that if 75% of the high school boys rocking out to this song every day know what it was about, they’d break their guitars and vow never to play again. Which is why this blog is a public service announcement for today.

Song #11: Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey
A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on
Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlight people, living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night
Working hard to get my fill,
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin anything to roll the dice,
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose

If you’ve ever only heard one Journey song, I’d bet my firstborn child that it’s this one. For real, I kind of hate babies, it’s yours. And that only makes it more delightful that people run around with this song stuck in their head all day. Because while it might at first glance seem to be an inspirational song, it’s really just about a crackwhore and a gambler. I’d like to think that the message is that these two creatures can pull themselves out of the gutter, but there’s always the possibility that the message is: you can win a lot of money off this guy and then buy this girl to celebrate. Even if it’s the benevolent message, it’s still scandalous, which makes it the perfect song for political campaigns. 

Remakes
Song #12: Gin and Juice – The Gourds
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
And get to mackin to this bitch named sadie (sadie? )
She used to be the homeboys lady (oh, that bitch)
Eighty degrees, when I tell that bitch please
Raise up off these n-u-ts, cause you gets none of these
At ease, as I mob with the dogg pound, feel the breeze

Obviously, this particular song started out scandalous. I do not need to explain why it’s included. But the beauty of this particular song is that when Snoop Dogg sang it, you COULD NOT understand the words well enough to hear what was really going on. Luckily for us, with the 1996 remake by the alternative country band The Gourds, all of these lyrics are 500 times clearer. Clearly, they too had their mind on their money and their money on their mind.

Song #13: Nasty Girl by Nitty
Well honey (Whatcha got Mr. Mans)
I got a lot of money (I don’t see no keys in my hands)
Could you be my nasty girl
And let me do that dirty dance witchu (If you want this give me money)
Mommy (Ooo Whee Poppi)
Shake that sexy body (Do you like what you see?)
I just wanna nasty girl
Now tell me is that nasty girl you? (I can love you long time)
I’m in the Escalade, you in the Navigator
You talkin dirty wanna serve me in the elevator
Wanna give it to me now not later
Mommy’s body was a dime, can’t hate her
What a brother gonna do when the bitty rolls through
Who’s lookin just like Jada
We hit the elevator
Of course there’s always haters
But it didn’t matter yo
We were puttin on a show
Free for all your spectators

There was a time in my life that I really loved the original version of this song. But since my discovery of Nitty’s delightfully skanky version of the classic tune, I have replaced the love for the original with a deep and lasting passion for the revised edition. In fact, I had to look up the names of the originators (The Archies) while working on this particular blog. I mean, they were none too shabby about their “candy girl” back in the day. I mean they were saying that they wanted her, a nice way of saying that they wanted to do the horizontal mambo…*scandal scandal* in their day. But Nitty thought that the youth of today wouldn’t understand the subtle sexual undertones, and wanted to help them appreciate the true nature of the song. I mean, it’s a lot easier to understand what “Ah sugar, ah honey honey you are my candy girl and you got me wanting you” means when you rephrase it as “Honey, I got a lot of money, could you be my nasty girl and let me do that dirty dance witchu.” Agreed?

Top 40
Song #14: La La by Ashlee Simpson
You make me wanna lala in the kitchen on the floor
I’ll be your French maid where I meet you at the door
I’m like an alley cat
Drink the milk up I want more
You make me wanna
You make me wanna scream

Alright, though I find this song absolutely delightful and addictive, I have to say that it’s also equally as degrading as any song I’ve heard from the rap/hip hop genre recently. Basically, Ashlee Simpson is saying that she finds you so terribly attractive that just being around you makes her want to show you her O face (don’t get it? Rent Office Space.) She’ll do you anywhere, any time, any place. Just tell her how you want it, and she’ll do it. In fact, isn’t her hubby supposed to be a vegetarian? So shouldn’t that alley cat line be a little…you know, inappropriate? I’m assuming that you can figure out what she’s “drink[ing] up”But hey, if she loves it that much, I’m sure Pete Wentz will take that bullet. 

Song #15: Crank That – Soulja Boy
Super Man Dat Ho
Then Watch me Crank Dat Robocop?
Super Fresh, Now Watch Me Jock
Jocking On Them Haterz Man
When I Do Dat Soulja Boy
I Lean To The Left And Crank Dat Dance
(Now You)
I’m Jocking On Yo Bitch Ass
And If We Get The Fightin
Then I’m Cocking On Your Bitch
You Catch Me At Yo Local Party
Yes I Crank It Everyday
Haterz Get Mad Cuz
“I Got Me Some Bathin Apes”
Soulja Boy Off In This Ho
Watch Me Crank It
Watch Me Roll
Watch Me Crank Dat Soulja
Then Super Man Dat Ho

Ah, youth. What I love about this song is that not only is this a dance that children of all ages can do (I’ve heard of a preschool class learning of it. Actually, I’m 100% sure that they learned it. From one of my friend’s mom.) but it’s written by one of the youngest songwriters of all time. Soulja Boy was only 17 when it became a hit, although he had written long before. So let’s explain exactly what this youngster is talking about in his filthy, filthy song. I had actually planned on publishing this with all of the gory details, but I called a play change in the last seconds before the snap. Meaning that I couldn’t bring myself to hit “publish” with these words on the screen. Therefore, I’ve instead made a list of the terms that you should look up on www.urbandictionary.com. For your homework, please search the following: “superman,” “crank dat,” and “robocop.” Extra credit for writing them in example sentences. Educate thyself. 

Song #16: Wannabe by the Spice Girls
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give,
Taking is too easy, but that’s the way it is. 
So here’s a story from A to Z, you wanna get with me
you gotta listen carefully
We got Em in the place who likes it in your face,
we got G like MC who likes it on an
Easy V doesn’t come for free, she’s a real lady,
and as for me..ah you’ll see,
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Slam your body down and wind it all around.

This song is simply riddled with double entendres. Did I know this when I was 9 years old and was given this album as my very first CD? OMG, of course not. I mean, I understood that The Lady Is A Vamp song was scandalous, but the subtleties of this song were lost on me. Let’s look at the above type. How many of us ladies have ever had a guy take and not give in return? Yeah, that’s what I thought. The Spice Girls are not going to put up with that. We’ll help you out, but damn it, you’d better help us out, too. None of that “I don’t know how, but I really appreciate you doing it for me” crap. I’ll be honest and say that I’m not 100% sure about what all of the rapping section means…but I do know that Easy V not coming for free means one of two things: 1. She expects the guy to take her out for a nice evening before he actually “takes” her (and David Beckham has the means to do it) and 2. She’s a hooker. With Mel B, clearly she is very into exchanging DNA, but who knows what SHE likes? There is a way to find out. All you have to do is slam your body down and wind it aaaaaall around. Sexay.

Song #17: Kiss From A Rose – Seal
There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea.
You became the light on the dark side of me.
Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill.
But did you know, That when it snows,
My eyes become large and The light that you shine can be seen.
Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grave.
Ooh,The more I get of you,
The stranger it feels, yeah.
And now that your rose is in bloom.
A light hits the gloom on the grave.
There is so much a man can tell you,
So much he can say. You remain,
My power, my pleasure, my pain, baby
To me you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny.

And here it is. The song that inspired the blog. When I was in high school, we were taught how to analyze poetry. There are a few ultimate truths in poetry. A flower, for example, will always always represent sex, or a woman’s “gift.” My friend and I somehow ended up discovering the truth about this song by way of this analyzing tactic, as songs are simply poems set to a tune. We’ll go slowly. Line by line.

  • A graying tower alone on the sea means he’s turned on alone, creating his own waves in his waterbed at night.
  • Love remained a drug that’s the high means that he enjoys being in love, and probably making love as well. 
  • The completion of a sexual act, spreading the seed, the achievement of the American dream, whatever, is when it snows.
  • I think that his eyes come alive because in reality he’s falling in love with a woman, the light you shine is actually the reality that this woman cares about him. And who isn’t in love with a person who is in love with them?
  • A kiss from a rose on the grave, otherwise known as the title of the song, is basically referring to deflowering someone when you’re not a virgin yourself. The grave is the “let down” time after an orgasm, and if you’ve had an orgasm, you’re probably not so much a virgin, not completely anyway.
  • And now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grave. = Now that you’re old enough to do it, we’re totally going to have sex, and I’m ready even though I’ve had an orgasm before and you maybe haven’t. Woot.
  • I’m pretty sure that if there is so much a man can tell you, it must be about sex, or you can just read a book instead. Actually, you can just read a book for the sex info, too…so Seal lied. I don’t need a man’s knowledge, but I do like other things they have.
  • What is sex if it’s not power, pleasure, and pain?
  • A grown addition that I can’t deny is a topic that we might want to ask David Duchovny about.
Have I ruined this terribly romantic song for you? That was my goal.

Well, that’s it, folks. It’s been a long, hard point to make, but I think that I’ve finally reached the end of this dark tunnel. Time to…slip the pencil into the wallet, put the car in the garage, . Okay I’m done now. But seriously. Now that you know that all your favorite songs are scandalous, you might as well listen to the blatantly dirty ones as well. I recommend “Control” by Nine Inch Nails, “Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo” by the Bloodhound Gang, and “Hot White C**” by Liz Phair. 

PS: I think you all should know that this article took forever to research and finish, but I enjoyed the researching. I have increased my sexual vocabulary, which I didn’t think was possible. You learn one new thing every day, I guess…I found this while doing research. My favorites that I didn’t get to use are:

  • The Blitzkrieg Bop
  • chim chiminy, chim chiminy, chim chim charoo
  • doing the no-pants dance
  • doing the oompa loompa
  • fig leaf removing
  • Hunting the Chukaberra
  • insert tab A into slot B (DIY has never been so hott.)
  • insider trading (ex. “Let’s make like Enron and do some insider trading.”)
  • playing with dinosaurs
  • snoo snoo
  • the magical embrace

Fabulous. http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/Sexual_innuendo

 

Christianity is often sexist (not always, but often).

{ September 24, 2008 @ 3:49 pm } · { Family and friends, General Info, Personal, Political, Religion, Youth }
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People will hate and disagree with me about this one, because while they can shrug off my comments about sex and other scandalous things, they will fight to the end to defend their religion. So to begin, I want to point out that I’m saying it OFTEN is. Not ALWAYS, and not ALL DENOMINATIONS. So calm down. 

This morning I read an article on CNN.com about Lifeway Christian stores. It appears that the Southern Baptist Convention decided to place the latest issue of GospelToday (a Christian magazine) behind the counter because it features women pastors on its cover. This disagrees with the 2000 proclamation by the Southern Baptist Convention that only men could be pastors. On their website, they say that while women are equal in value to men, their roles are not identical, meaning that they cannot be ministers.

This article (and I’ve read it, oh yes) is an incredibly well-written piece of journalism. It’s about these five pastors being able to break the glass ceiling in religion. It’s about their struggles at being accepted as valid spiritual leaders, which makes it even more upsetting that LifeWay chose to treat it in such a manner. I can’t believe that someone would put the issue behind the counter because it’s offensive. More than anything, it makes my heart ache for the women in this religion that actually believe they are inferior to men. 

I grew up Baptist. The religion closest to my own personal beliefs is traditional Baptist doctrine (not Southern Baptist). My church decided during my high school years to become Southern Baptist, though at that point I had already distanced myself. My family – I have a 16-year-old sister – still attends the church as active members, with my dad teaching Sunday School, my mom on a church softball team, and my sister playing for the youth group’s band. I have always respected my old pastor, whether I agreed with him on all stances or not, but this makes me doubt him as a spiritual leader because the church is a member of the Southern Baptist Convention. 

The Bible is blamed for this little difference. And yes, it does say that women are not equal to men, but let’s be real here for a second. During the time that the Bible was written, people were stoned to death for adultery, divorce was unacceptable, and poking out someone’s eye meant that they got to poke out one of yours. Now, all of these sins can be forgiven and any man can choose to become a pastor no matter what his previous sins, but apparently a woman has committed the ultimate sin of being born female, because she cannot overcome her own gender in order to be a minister.

It’s an endless struggle for women in religion. In my opinion, women struggle for more respect in religion than in the business world, or even in the political world. The Bible has portrayed women in three roles: temptress, dunce, and benevolent saint. No woman can live up to the last one, I guarantee you.
–> The Virgin Mary and other strong, godly women in the Bible are fabulous, but the closest we’ve gotten lately is Mother Teresa. It’s setting an unrealistic standard of benevolence.
–>As for the other two, Eve was the biggest idiot in the world to listen to that snake, but that doesn’t mean that the entire female gender is stupid. People believe that we are, but just because people believe it doesn’t make it true. Otherwise, Elvis would be alive, the war in Iraq would be successful, and O.J. would be innocent.
–>The temptress issue hits close to home for me. Unless your significant other has called you Jezebel for “tempting” him by simply looking nice, you don’t understand how deep this idea runs in Christianity. The idea that women use sex to bring their husbands down and gain control over them has been blown up in the media, but people would be wise to remember that the original idea came from the Bible. 

It would be an incomplete article if I didn’t mention that the SBC is right there with Sarah Palin on opposing abortion in all cases, even rape and incest. I’m sorry, but I simply cannot believe that anything that is a product of a violent crime like that is God’s will. If I did, I’d hate God. But I leave people’s beliefs about this issue to themselves, mainly, I just happen to believe that a woman shouldn’t be forced to have a baby she doesn’t want, to endure a pregnancy that might kill her. But I understand why people think that all children are sacred. 

Of course, women aren’t the only ones who have it bad. Homosexuals? You’re screwed, unless you renounce your lifestyle and admit that the affection you feel for people of the same sex is wrong. Then you’re golden. But I don’t think that it should be like that, again with my opinion.

Overall, something that even I didn’t want to know is that Christianity is often sexist.

Here are my sources for this blog:

Inspiration articles: http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/09/23/martin.hairston/index.html;  http://www.ethicsdaily.com/article_detail.cfm?AID=11088
Facts about Southern Baptist Convention: http://www.sbc.net/default.asp
Magazine Website: http://www.gospeltoday.com/index.php

Feminism has changed, and it’s not going back.

{ September 2, 2008 @ 5:30 pm } · { General Info, Personal, Youth }
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So get used to it, all you “cool aunts” out there. It’s time to start shaving those legs again.

I got this idea from an assignment in a journalism class. An article written in 1998 and published in TIME magazine that year by Gina Bellafonte bemoans the loss of the feminism of yesteryear.

“OH, why is it all about sexual empowerment instead of real issues like child care and equal wages?” Is what I imagine her saying as she weeps every night over her copy of The Feminine Mystique.

Get with the fucking program woman. Stop sobbing over the past and join us in the 21st century. For starters, trade that tired old rag in for the newer Feminism is for Everybody by bell hooks. Or better yet, The Ethical Slut. That one’s a fun and hilarious romp, even if it’s not strictly about women. You want to know why feminism has become centered around sex? I’ll tell you why.

It’s because while not all women have children, and not all women want to be high powered execs, every single woman on this planet is born with a vagina (or a desire for a vagina, I’m inclusive). And every woman in America has a very serious negative reaction to talking about her body, looking at her body, being okay with…guess what? Her body. And so trying to encourage women to love their body, make their body feel good, and to be okay with being sexy IS a feminist issue.

Some women will say that if you’re promiscuous, if you show too much skin on a daily basis, you’re not a real feminist.

I hate.

            Hate.

                        Hate.

                                    Hate HATE women who will tell someone they aren’t a feminist.

Fuck you, bitch, I so am. She so is. And even you so are, if you say you are.

  • Just because I like it when a guy pulls out my chair, opens my door, does “man chores,” or pays for dinner doesn’t mean that I’m contributing to the oppression of my sex.
  • Just because I wear tops that my boobs are falling out of  and a skirt that leaves little to the imagination to go out sometimes doesn’t mean that I’m demeaning myself.
  • Just because I hold traditionally female jobs, such as babysitter and librarian doesn’t mean that I’m letting men climb higher than me on the ladder.

 

  • It means that I like to feel like someone cares about me, is willing to do things for me, and wants to take care of me.
  • It means that I want to feel sexy sometimes, my boobs are my greatest asset in my opinion, and damn it they deserve a breath of fresh air. Plus, if I can’t show off my upper-thigh tattoo, then what’s the point?
  • It means that I like children and books, and that I if I had to sit in an office all day or hold their lives in my hand on a regular basis I’d shoot myself in the head within a year.

It means that I’m being me.

And for that matter, how is feminism served by women turning into men? I mean, some women think that feminism means dressing in clothes that turn you into a genderless blob. And then there are the women who start to smoke cigars, go on sports outings, and refuse to wear skirts to the office. Now, if you want to do all that, then go for it! But if you actually are terrified of getting lung cancer, hate baseball, and like to feel the cool breeze on your bikini bottoms, then what the fuck. You’re oppressing your own personality, and not doing anyone any good.

I’m not overly girly, I rarely wear make up, I prefer grilling outdoors to making a fancy four-course meal, and I would much rather watch the Red Sox than Bridezillas. But I enjoy many other girly activities, such as shopping for hours, having afternoon tea, and criticizing Heidi Klum’s outfit on Project Runway. So what does that mean?

Am I a traitor? The Benedict Arnold of feminism? I think not.

There are a lot of good things about this change that I think both sides can agree are benefits of the feminist movement becoming more widespread.

  • I doubt that in the 70s movement, there would have been many if any men walking around with the feminist symbol tattooed on their bodies. But I know two. I also know feminists who would say that you have to be a woman to be a feminist, which just isn’t true.
  • Girls are growing up today with an education in women’s history. It’s not all told by the men anymore, it’s about the women, too. Elizabeth, Margaret Thatcher, and Bloody Mary are getting more and more attention these days. At home, we have fewer options, but we’re still a young country. Give us time. For now we’ll just have to make do with Ruth Vader Ginsburg, Hillary Clinton, and Kay Bailey Hutchison (can you tell where I grew up?).
  • The female condom rocked my world when I actually saw one. Not necessarily in a good way. But despite the fact that having sex with one of those would sound like doin’ it with a recyclable WalMart bag, it’s good that women have the option of protecting themselves without relying on a man to cage the monkey.

So feminism has changed. I’m down with it. Everyone who considers themselves a feminist is welcome to be one, in my book. We all have our different definitions of good and bad, hot and not, why can’t we have different definitions of feminism?

Because feminism has changed, like it or not.

 

You Cannot Avoid Repeating the Past.

{ July 14, 2008 @ 9:51 pm } · { Family and friends, General Info, Personal, Youth }
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No one wants to believe this, because it is a universal truth that everyone has made bad choices in the past.

Now, I’m not one for regret, I believe that every decision that I have made has created the person who sits here writing this blog. But I also believe that sometimes the only silver lining to a situation is that you’ll never, ever, ever repeat it. 

But there are times when you won’t be able to avoid repeating the past, whether it’s a good repetition or a bad one. Luckily for me, my revelation came as a neutral one today. 

As I sat looking at my planner, freaking out about graduating in a year, finding out what I’m going to do with my future, and filling my schedule for this week with work and activities to make me forget about work, I stumbled across an event that made me stop.
And think.
And laugh.
And wonder what the fuck it meant for me.

What is this amazing event you ask? Why it’s a note jotted down in my purple and green elephant planner, at the very bottom of “Thursday, July 17.” I wrote it there myself two days ago without a thought, and now it’s the reason for an entire “I’ll pretend to be deep” blog entry.

It says: Midnight Premiere with Caitlin and Jessica.

Bam. Is that as dramatic as you anticipated? Maybe not. Maybe you don’t understand. I’ll explain.

When I was a senior in high school, in a suburb of Dallas called Mesquite, I had two very good friends.

One – Jessica Sue – who was a year older than me, already in college, with a boyfriend I adored (who is now a fiancee I STILL adore), and the person that I ran to for at least a level headed approach if not the answer to all things big and small.

Two – Caitlin (Janell, though I never called her that. Her nickname was far more scandalous than Jessi’s) – who was in my grade, who “worked” with me in choir, and who tooled around with me to all activities. The three of us got along fairly well, and I can say with certainty that I have been to more than one midnight premiere with both of them.

And if you have no clue who I am, then I’m sure you’re all…so you’re still friends with them, so what? And I am still friends with them. But they’re not the Jessica and Caitlin that I’m going to the movie with. No, this Jessica and Caitlin are two amazing girls that I met in college, and to an extent, they fill the same roles during this – my senior year of college – that my friends my senior year high school did.

Jessica has spent a huge amount of time listening to me talk about the rough time I’m having sticking to what I want, trying to figure out if it IS what I want, and all that jazz. The main difference is that there’s no crazy boyfriend around (but really, how could there be another Chad?). That and the fact that I might be a little looser lipped this time around thanks to my turning 21. She’s still a year older than me, and she’s also more level-headed most of the time. Most of the time. 

Caitlin is Texas Caitlin to an extreme, from her love of penguins to her middle name to the fact that she is the most entertaining person in my everyday life. But I think that the extremity is not because she embodies all of these things so much more than Texas Caitlin, but because I’m living with her, and therefore everything is a little more heightened. She puts up with my craziness, and sometimes people think of us as one unit – just like people did to Texas Caitlin and I in high school.

So here I am, staring at my planner, and realizing that the planner could belong to me four years ago. I mean, the stuff I have written in there – look up scholarships, read manuscripts (my friends’ in high school), work on applications(undergrad vs. job, corps, and grad), send flowers, spa time (this has been upgraded from pedicure time, as Jessi Sue will remember), dinner dates, and midnight movies (Batman instead of Harry Potter this summer).

And it’s convenient, because I realized that while I’ve been panicking and freaking out about how I don’t know who I am anymore, the answer is in my lap. I’m the same person that I always have been, spelled out in my planner. I feel like I’ve changed, and some things have, but it’s okay. I haven’t lost myself. 

I realize that now, if all four of you are reading this, you’re like:
What. The. Fuck, Erin.
I am not an inter-changeable person.

And you’re not. I love you all for very different reasons, and you’re only the same people in the spaces that you fill in my life. But you fill those spaces in different ways. And maybe I should stop talking about spaces being filled because it’s starting to sound a little…you know…but you know what I mean. I can’t trade any of you in for another because it’d break my heart.

I’m just lucky, now that I have more than one person that I can turn to when I need you. And yet, isn’t it strange that I draw similar people to me? I mean, how many people attend Mizzou that AREN’T named Caitlin or Jessica and who AREN’T crazy like me? Or at least who AREN’T crazy enough to put up with me?

I remember thinking that I would go to college and be friends with all these journalists and we would talk about how important the media is to the world, and our dreams for the future. But then I got here and realized that the picture I had in my head happens for other people, but not for me. Now, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t trade the friends I have(old and new) for anything in the world. Because in a weird, dysfunctional way, they make my life a little easier. 

I suppose what I’m saying is that there’s more truth than I realized to the adage: The more things change, the more they stay the same. Because you cannot avoid repeating the past.

The Colbert/Stewart trade-off is faltering.

{ July 14, 2008 @ 9:13 pm } · { General Info, Political }
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I know, this is one of those revelations that breaks your heart into tiny little pieces and leaves you curled up in a ball at the foot of your bed, cradling the stuffed rabbit you’re embarrassed you still own.

For years and years…okay, for three years…Colbert and Stewart have been hosting two shows that are basically different sides of the same coin. Jon Stewart has normally leaned a little more pro-liberal, while Colbert is “upfront” about being a white male conservative who doesn’t see race. But lately, I’ve been noticing a little change in the dynamic of both shows.  

All of a sudden, Jon’s making streams of jokes about Barack Obama, and completely ignoring most of the gossip that surrounds McCain. Understandably, this has thrown Colbert for a loop, and we see him defending Obama for being an “elitist” and trying to work more pro-Democrat, anti-McCain jokes in wherever he can legitimately fit them without completely destroying his character. 

I know, maybe you’re saying to yourself (especially if you know me):
She’s just a huge Obama supporter. [True.]
She would be upset at any joke that’s made at his expense. [True. New Yorker, watch yourself.] 
I bet Stewart is just shifting to the middle, rather than playing it hard liberal. [Wrong.]

When a talk show host has to say to his stunned and silent audience, “You know, it’s okay to laugh at him,” after a joke, there’s something wrong. It was so obviously unsuspected from Stewart that I’m not the only one who noticed. And why are we being treated to this strange behavior? I’ll tell you why: John McCain and the Daily Show are carrying on a dirty little affair.

He’s been a guest multiple times, and he’s always charmed the audience. It makes sense for Jon Stewart to be a little soft, but not to the degree that he’s being right now. And not to the point where he’s stealing all of Colbert’s material because he won’t make fun of Obama.  

Jon Stewart, I love you. Not as much as I love Colbert, but there’s still love there. So why do you insist on hating me so? If you make me choose between you and Obama, you won’t win. And you know why? Because I can replace you with more Colbert, but I cannot replace a presidential candidate full of hope with one that will continue to sink the country deeper into debt – a debt of both money and military personnel. 

Get back on your horse of moderation that you have ridden for so long, be fair about your lambasting. I’m not asking you not to make fun of Obama, I love that you generally don’t pass on anyone. I’m just asking you not to pick on him more so that you have enough material to fill the show without picking on McCain. 

Colbert will thank you as well. Because right now, Jon Stewart, your happy little trade off is faltering. Bring it back before it’s too late and you’ve gone over to the Dark Side.

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