Thursday, July 05, 2007

The Gondola and the Tidal Wave

The Simpsons is probably my favorite television show of all time. I say probably because sometimes I have bouts with wonderful memories of Joanie Loves Chachi tickling my brain, tipping the favorite scales in its direction. But one look at Chief Wiggum brings me back to my senses. It is similar to the way Neptune is the furthest planet from the Sun.

You might imagine how excited I was to learn about the production of a The Simpsons feature length movie, about ten years ago (I’m glad they didn’t take too long to make it). You might also imagine how an insurance salesman feels after he sells an accidental dismemberment policy to a fledgling gondolier, but please do that on your own time. If you imagined correctly, you would understand that I was quite excited, like an out of town gondolier landing a job in Venice.

After years of hearing about the possibility, the probability and the actuality of the movie being made, its release is finally almost here. I will not tell you the date of the release, as you will soon understand why, but it will be soon. Although my joy for the movie has been slammed like an inattentive fish being waylaid by a gondolier’s sweeping oar, I intend to watch and hopefully enjoy the movie.

Let me get to the point. But, first, let me finish my thought about Neptune. Back when Pluto was considered a planet (it’s not a planet, so don’t let the brainwashing they gave you back in grammar school obscure your comprehension of facts that explain why it is not a planet and never was), it was considered the furthest planet from the Sun. However, its orbit is more eccentric that the real planets. Consequently, sometimes it causes Pluto to draw inside the orbit of Neptune, resulting in Neptune being the farthest planet (that we know of) from the Sun. Since Pluto is now considered a dwarf planet (why couldn’t they come up with a brand new word like cosmochunk), instead of a planet, the discussion is pointless. You can see how this relates to my The Simpsons versus Joanie Loves Chachi internal squabble, so I will explain no more. Wait a minute, I just figured out something. If I can get the International Astronomical Union to agree that Joanie Loves Chachi is actually a dwarf TV show, I could finally find peace of mind. I’m going to pen a letter to Catherine J. Cesarsky as soon as I post this.

So the point is I can’t stand mass media blitzes! They are destroying all that is entertaining in this world. As far as network television goes, The Simpsons is just about all there is. But, Moist, you may say, The Simpsons has been a behemoth merchandising outfit since about the time Santa’s Little Helper almost died of gastric torsion. Yes, but I’ve been ignoring that. The Hollywood marketing onslaught for the film is too overwhelming to ignore, similar to a gondola being dropped from the sky onto a grape squishee, where I am the grape squishee and the gondola is a little sticker on the gas pump at my local filling station informing me of my opportunity to become an animated character in a The Simpsons episode. But, that gondola is not just the sticker, it’s all the other evasive smotherdue that pours out of the minds of inhuman marketing think tanks who feel it’s necessary to flood the senses with all things Simpsons (or whatever else they happen to be promoting) in order to coerse people into seeing the movie. Yesterday, I had a Jehovah’s witness come to my door. She handed me a pamphlet cordially inviting me to their “Follow the Christ” convention featuring a full costume bible drama starring the cast of The Simpsons. Last week, I was rear-ended by a guy wearing a Moe Syzlak costume. He got out of his car and slapped a bumper sticker that said “Courtesy of Moe’s Tavern – Don’t Drink and Drive Coming to Theaters July 2007” on the dent in my car. He got back into his car and slammed into the next car he could catch up to. Why, just this morning I was mailing some letters to the International Astronomical Union and the envelope glue tasted like one of Barney Gumble’s burps (don’t ask me how I know). The thing is, I bought that box of envelopes three years ago.

I fear now that somehow, because of the subject matter of this post, this blog will become part of the media pillage, and we will be inundated with millions of obtrusive readers, never to enjoy the quaint, discreet, happy little blog environment that we’ve worked so hard to attain. I’m even more fearful of attracting Joanie Loves Chachi fanatics. Those dudes are ass kickers! They say the gondola never floats too far from Neptune. I’m beginning to believe it.

6 comments:

del said...

why couldn’t they come up with a brand new word like cosmochunk
I love that word. It could be a candy bar or a plus sized model. Very versatile!

But I don't know why you care so much about a movie about Jessica and Ashley?

Anonymous said...

Pluto is so a planet. The bible tells me so.

del said...

I thought Pluto was a dog? Walt Disney told me so.

HR said...

Charles in Charge was way better than Joanie loves Chachi. I want Charles in charge of me.

kristy O said...

Charles is so a cosmohunk. Willie Aames told me so.

keysunset said...

evasive smotherdue that pours out of the minds of inhuman marketing think tanks

Perfect, darlin'! That and "cosmochunk" are just a couple of the jewels in this brilliant bit o'writing.

Tho' "cosmochunk" sounds like a candy bar .... think of the marketing possibilities! ;-)