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"Puff The Magic Dragon" has to be the worst children's song ever written.
Let me explain.
It was Valentine's Day when last I spewed a stream of electrons into the void. My primary activity for this year's Valentine's Day was attending a wedding. No, not mine. I wouldn't schedule my wedding for Valentine's Day. Admittedly, it has a nice romantic synergy and an auspicious aura of appropriateness. Further, for those (men, stereotypically) who are congenitally incapable of remembering holidays, anniversaries and such, combining a holiday and an anniversary makes the mental burden marginally less onerous and increases the likelihood that the right synapse will fire for one of the two. Regardless, it's inconsiderate. While your friends will likely attend your ceremony to wish you connubial bliss, those that are paired off would probably rather celebrate Valentine's Day in their own fashion. It's a day for them to celebrate their own romance, not yours.
So there I was, stuck in a church on Valentine's Day watching a wedding. As Catholic weddings go it was mercifully short, clocking in at a half hour. Still, a half hour is beyond my tolerance for religious events. After a few minutes of listening to god blather my mind started to drift:
Yes, I think with hyperlinks.
At some point, the church organist disrupted my reverie by playing Pachelbel's "Canon in D". Truth be told, I like "Canon in D." It's a nice, inoffensive piece of classical music. However, as DI guitarist Michael Spaly once pointed out to me, it has essentially the same chord progression as "Puff The Magic Dragon". So, to amuse my date, I turned to her and started quietly singing "Puff." And that's when I remembered why I always hated that song.
Little Jackie Paper's a bitch.
You think I'm joking? Examine the lyrics (reprinted without permission) to the song's verses as written by Peter Yarrow and Leonard Tipton (© 1963) and originally released on Peter, Paul & Mary's album "(Moving)":
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff,
and brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. Oh!
Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff's gigantic tail,
Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flag when Puff roared out his name. Oh!
I have to interrupt here. This half of the song is pretty cool. Let's review. We have a kick-ass dragon, Puff, who minds his own business, frolics by the sea shore and lives life to its fullest. Then we have this punk kid, Jackie Paper, who shows up and attempts to buy Puff's affections with strings, wax and other "fancy" stuff. Puff should have roasted, dilaniated, and devoured the devorative brat. Alas, a dragon's hamartia is found in its avaricious and venal nature and Puff is no exception. Predictably, Puff accepted Jackie's baubles and they became the best of buddies, sailing the seven seas and demanding respect from all... for a time.
Back to the song...
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.
Final interruption, I promise. Look, it's obvious what this is all about. Jackie discovered his penis, began masturbating and that was the beginning of the end. He had no more time for painted wings and giant rings when there was a whole new world of painted women and cock rings to explore. I'm the last person to criticize someone for a sex-obsession, but where's the loyalty? He ditched his best bud for a succession of skanky tarts. Not cool. "Bros before hoes," as the t-shirt goes.
His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend, Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. Oh!
How depressing is that? Puff the mighty, magical dragon was turned into a sniveling basket case by an inconstant, ungrateful malcontent. Of course Puff couldn't return to the lane, Jackie had popped all the cherries. I repeat: Jackie's a bitch. He's Matthew Davis in "Legally Blonde" who dumps Reese Witherspoon when it's time to get "serious." He's Keanu Reeves in "My Own Private Idaho" who stops doing River Phoenix when his dad dies. He's the stuck up celebrity who forgets his roots and has no time for the "little people" when he's on top. He's Shannen Doherty in "Heathers" who refuses to acknowledge her friendship with Martha Dumptruck once she ascends to the alpha clique. Yes, I just compared Little Jackie Paper to Shannen Doherty. He's that much of a bitch.
Why do you suppose "Calvin & Hobbes" is gone? Did Calvin "grow up" and toss Hobbes on the dusty scrap heap of childhood memories? Damn him! He's a bitch too. (although clearly drooling idiot material...)
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Sigh. Let me say this: it's a quality song. It's well written, adored by millions and it's withstood the test of time. As a songwriter, I'm jealous. I can only hope that one of my creations earns even a fraction of "Puff's" success. It's even, as the Vociferous Viking pointed out to me, realistic. People grow up and apart from each other (and their dragon friends too). Still, the song's a major downer and it ought to be criminal to ingrain it into the heads of children.
Jackie Paper, if I ever see your punk ass on the street, you're gonna catch the beat down of a lifetime!
It's May once more which means that it's National Masturbation Month. I won't bore you with a rehash of all the background info that I doled out last year. The "adult" store for and by women, Good Vibes, is once again sponsoring a Masturbate-a-thon. This year, in their attempt to put the "fun" back into "fund-raising", they are donating the proceeds to various AIDS clinics. If you want to get off for a worthy cause, collect pledges, masturbate like a madman (or woman) during the weekend of May 16-18 and send the cash to Good Vibes. They will disperse it to worthy organizations. In return, you'll get a discount on your next order and the cool bumper sticker pictured above.
Warning: While ipsism is usually considered to be safe sex, it is possible for things to get out of hand. Uh, I mean go horribly awry. Be careful when you're being safe and don't let this happen to you.
One other word of caution: don't get so wrapped up in masturbating that you neglect your friends. Especially if one of them is a big, lovable dragon adored by millions. Otherwise I'll have to kick your ass too.
As is our wont at DI.com, we like to give shout outs to Drooling Idiots on their birthdays. We have a lot of birthday business this time around since my lackadaisical update schedule has made this edition encompass three DI birthdays.
First, and foremost, it was Tubley's birthday on March 9th. Next, it was the birthday of DI co-founder Grindef on April 18th. Last, but not least, in our trifecta of tributes is Charlé who celebrated yet another birthday on April 20th, maintaining his position as the oldest Drooling Idiot.
Happy birthday to all.
Do you know who Sarah Jones is? If not, blame the government.
Ms. Jones is a hip hop artist. In 1999, she released a song titled "Your Revolution." It wasn't a huge hit although it got some underground notice and a little bit of play on some non-corporate stations. The airplay stopped abruptly in May 2001 when the Federal Communication Commission stepped in, declared the song "indecent and obscene" and levied a $7000 fine against KBOO in Portland Oregon. Needless to say, no one was willing to touch the song with a 10' antenna after that. It was yanked from the airwaves faster than a Republican can say "capital gains tax cut."
"What," you may be asking yourself, "in this era of gangsta, bling-bling and shock rap, could Ms. Jones have possibly said to make the FCC declare it indecent and obscene?" Simple, she said that the sexual exploitation of women must be ended. Apparently, feminism is verboten on the federally protected airwaves. "Your Revolution" is a denunciation of the kind of rap that gets broadcast on commercial radio and MTV daily. While it's true that some of the language she uses may be considered racy or offensive, in reality it's little more than a recapitulation and response to words and phrases that have already been broadcast, without FCC objection. The main difference is that while the original songs objectified and denigrated women, Ms. Jones "flipped the script" (in hip hop terms) and attempted to fight the misogynistic paradigm that dominates current hip hop (or, perhaps more accurately, hip pop).
On February 20th, 2003, the FCC reversed its decision and rescinded the fine assessed to KBOO. Sarah and her message are once again welcome in prime time. The first amendment and feminism triumph. The good guys (well, gals, really) won, for once. If you'll pardon the phrase issuing from my fingers, allow me to give Sarah props and a big "you go, girl."
I bring all this up for two reasons. First, "Your Revolution" is a worthy song with a worthy message. If you click on the link above you can read the lyrics and download the mp3. If the world can be home to songs such as "Still Bout The Pussay" and "Bag The Bone," then there's definitely room for songs like "Your Revolution." Second, this isn't really about one particular song as much as it's about the freedom of speech on the the airwaves. Yes, Ms. Jones beat the FCC, but it took 21 months and a lot of donated legal help from the People For The American Way. The FCC has the power to shut down the broadcast of speech of which it doesn't approve. It can tie up an appeal for 21 months, despite the fact that FCC policy demands a response within 60 days. Further, the courts are typically loathe to intervene and countermand the FCC's rulings. What's most troubling is that they exercised their power to squelch an issue-oriented song. The first amendment exist to protect controversial political and issue-oriented speech. Fining stations for playing songs like this is unconstitutional, in my opinion.
Edmund Burke said "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." Keep on eye on the FCC. And, if you happen to have a few bucks to spare at the end of the month, consider throwing a few of them at the People For The American Way and/or the American Civil Liberties Union.
For those of you who pay attention to such things, back in September of 2002 I initiated the first contest here at DI.com. The challenge was to coin a word that best fit the following definition: "The condition of ennui that ensues from watching a screen-saver ball bounce endlessly."
It's taken seven months, but we finally have a winner. Let me rephrase that; we finally have an entrant. Ashutosh Khanna is the winner by default. His winning suggestion was "pingpongotomy". Congratulations!
I would refine it to "pongonotony", a hybrid of Pong and monotony. Therefore, in full OED-ready splendor I present to you DI.com's first addition to the English language:
The winner was promised some sort of lame prize. The prize itself has yet to be determined but it will, no doubt, be nigh worthless.
Some people say "never use a big word when a diminutive one will do." Balderdash! I say, "never use a sesquipedalian word when a hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian word is available." What can I say? I'm a logomaniac.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Logomaniac isn't a word. I know that logolept is the proper word to describe someone who has a fascination with words. Nonetheless, I prefer the sound of logomaniac and it has a legitimate derivation as well, being composed of logos (Greek for word) and mania (Greek for insanity). Therefore, allow me to present:
Yep. I like words. And sex. And I'm not the only one, although you may say I'm a dreamer. If you're like me and you want a metric to gauge your sexual exploits and your vocabulary, check out the Purity Test for People with Large Vocabularies. This is one of the best purity tests I've encountered, although it could be improved ever so slightly by including a question for logophilia. (Yeah, yeah, I made that one up too. Sue me.)
Poetry departs
Perhaps to return some day
Two final pieces
A logophiliac with palms that were hairy,
Paged through a lexicon that oft made him merry.
Graphelagnia, Parthenophilia,
Melolagnia, Agrexophilia,
Oh. Ohhhhhh... splat. Oops! Time for a new dictionary.
Inspectors succeed
Weapons of ass destruction
A violation
Goodnight Gracie,
D.I. Prime
Monday, May 5, 2003
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