Ah, good. I've caught your attention. It's hard to find an original introduction. Just as difficult is finding the perfect subject, especially when the writer has no actual knowledge of campus politics, campus policies, campus geography, campus activities or baking. Ah, how I wish I could write a good baking column.
Unfortunately, I know nothing about baking, so you'll just have to read along about a personal favorite subject of mine: cartoons. That's right, cartoons. And no, before you ask, I have no life.
I originally had a column detailing how people don't watch enough cartoons. I wrote it up, then went to bed and tossed and turned stressing over the fact that the column was (honestly) achingly uninteresting. Therefore, I've decided to ramble, which, though I may get no actual point across, should make for more interesting reading.
How many of you remember the cartoons back in the '80s? If you're a student here, you should be raising your hand right about now. Go on, raise it. Nobody will mind. You could rip off your shirt, pants or whatever favored article of clothing and shout "I am the Monkey King! Bow before me!" At this school, your right to claim primate royalty would be respected.
Anyway, back to the cartoons. I look back at them now, and they're funny. The comic relief isn't funny; all of those sidekicks and cute but intelligent animals were nothing but annoying. No, these cartoons are funny because you could make them. Take a few art classes and buy Mario Paint, and you could be churning out cartoons as high-quality as, say, the Herculoids. No character ever had more than 20 different animations: stand, ride, jump, swing weapon, laugh, punch, kick, get hit and a few others that depended on the specific character. Sometimes an entire episode would go by without some of the secondary characters visibly moving.
Plus, the dialogue always felt as if it were written for children with intelligence quotients little higher than banana slugs (no offense to banana slugs intended). The average conversation went like this:
HERO (in deep, but good-natured voice): Halt, villain. Your sinister plot cannot succeed. Fear the wrath of my blade!
VILLAIN (in high, whiny voice, or, alternatively, a hiss): Your blade is powerful, hero (note a disdainful sneer), but even it cannot stand against the might of my hordes. Get him, my servants!
POORLY DESIGNED SERVANTS: Rargh!
GIRL: Oh, no! There are too many monsters! He can't fight them all! Look! They've got him surrounded! Uh oh! That one's jumped onto his back. He can't shake it off!
COMIC RELIEF: Poink!
And so on, ad infinitum. Eventually, the hero's weapon would shine with holy light and scare off the monsters without actually killing any of them. Then the villain would run away, spouting something about revenge. Finally, the hero would sum up the lesson for the toddlers at home, and the comic relief would get its head stuck in something, and everyone would laugh.
Things have changed considerably since those days, as many of you no doubt know. Makers of cartoons no longer worry about jokes going over kids' heads, because the average child knows more about computers and sex than the average adult. This means that a writer can fill a script with computer jokes and sex jokes (and computer sex jokes) and only the parents won't get it.
Not only that, but cartoons are becoming more and more visual these days. No longer must a script clearly narrate the action, because animation is getting so good that the action is infinitely clear to any child that can see, except for those children with epileptic seizures; all the flashing lights don't do them much good at all.
One of my favorite cartoon shows is Dragon Ball Z. This show is great because it's got everything you could want. It has violence, great special effects, violence, heroics, explosions and violence. I bring this show up because it has both narrative styles. One episode will be basically one long pause, where everyone collects their thoughts before the next bout of explosions and violence begins. Another episode (often the next one) will have almost no dialogue, just a bunch of explosions and grunts. My mother once thought I was watching porn during Dragon Ball Z because she couldn't see the screen; all she could hear was some serious heavy breathing.
My point (if there is one) is this: it's fun to compare cartoons, especially old to new. The new He-Man and Transformers series are good chances to do just that. So, if you like cartoons as much as I do (and I know I do), let me know.
Now, how do I end this thing? Do I um Damn. This column sponsored by Cartoon Network.
