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The Cleansing of America Should Start with Our Airwaves

As I sit here in front of my computer, trying to think of a topic for this column, I realize that there are many things wrong in this country.  Single parents roam the streets begging for scraps of food to feed their starving children, uneducated hoodlums taunt each other with an ignorant hatred as flaring trash barrels light the alleys, but most of all, stereos in homes and vehicles across the country continue to blast at a maximum volume the worst music I have ever heard in my life!

Now believe me, I’ve tolerated this for a while, and I’m pretty damn proud of myself for making it this long without snapping, but the time has come to vent.  I made it through the glorious ‘80s, with the huge, pop-star egos with even bigger hairstyles.  Then came the musical stylings of ‘rap artists’ such as Vanilla Ice and Milli Vanilli, who possessed about as much actual creative talent as my refrigerator, at least on a hot day when it had other things on its mind.  The country horse was led through by Garth Brooks, and then again by Chris Gaines (ya really had us fooled there, buddy!), and luckily this one has already, for the most part, rode off into the sunset.  Unfortunately, a new age has come upon us in this new millennium, urging folks to shake their groove-thang and get down and jiggy with it.  I hate to tell you, but this is only the beginning…

If you’ve ever been in an actual dance club these days, you’re already one step beyond me.  I get frightened by just hearing these tunes on the radio, so I’ve decided to base any further speculations on what’s happening from watching television, mainly: MTV’s Spring Break, MTV’s Spring Break – Uncensored!, MTV’s The Grind, and MTV’s Uncensored Spring Break Special Edition of The Grind.  Don’t be alarmed!  I watched them all MUTED, with some nice classical Beethoven in the background, so the evil sound mites wouldn’t be able to work their way into my brain, but nevertheless, what I discovered was both astonishing and shocking, and maybe even a little titillating…

Dance music drives its listeners to be naked.  That’s right, naked and also a tad raunchy.  How anyone can still call them dance clubs is beyond me because there is actually little, if any, actual dancing going on here at all.  From what I understand, young people gather at the MTV Brothel, I mean Beach House, and are basically instructed to fornicate to the hip and savvy, modern beat of the day.  If things get too spicy for TV, they simply move on to another couple, until the directors and production assistants are the only people on the set not having sex.  Yet I don’t blame the men and women behind the cameras, for they’re only capitalizing on someone else’s filth.  For the purposes of this column, I shall place the blame on the artists themselves, but why, you ask?  Just consider the following lyrics, excerpted from the ‘smash hit’ Lady Marmalade, which was originally (and might I add, tastefully) performed in the early ‘70s by Patti LaBelle, but re-released this year as part of the Moulin Rouge disaster, as performed by Christina Aguilera, Pink, Mya and several other girls whom I’m not going to take the time to look up their names:

Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da
Gitchi gitchi ya ya here
Mocha chocolata ya ya
Etc, ad nauseam…

Roughly translated, this becomes:

Ladies, ladies – dress as scantily as you possibly can
Ladies, ladies – embarrass yourselves in public by dancing worse than strippers
If it doesn’t feel like you’re being impregnated, you’re not ‘dancing’ hard enough
And don’t forget to buy our new cd…

And this is just one song!  Think, with thousands of corruptive, intellectually-molesting songs being broadcast over the airwaves every single day, it’s no wonder that today’s youth is turning out the way that they are!  Not to mention the images portrayed by these artists are no doubt passed along as well.  During my ‘studies’ of the MTV culture (project codename: Booby-Watch 2001), I came across this year’s version of the MTV Movie Awards.  It was then that I witnessed an act that was so scary that I could barely turn away.  The above-mentioned ‘ladies’ were scheduled to make a performance of this hit song of theirs, and that they did.  Maybe it had some sort of artistic value, but I was so busy crying that I must’ve missed it.  The girls pranced around the stage for what seemed like days, wearing the most hideous lingerie imaginable and enough makeup and glitter to make Mimi from The Drew Carey Show green with envy.  Countless hours of quality time with the catalogs from Victoria’s Secret were ruined forever that night…

I think what this country needs is to get back to the basics.  Back in the good old days, everyone got along, we all wore clothes, but most importantly, we all listened to music that didn’t suck.  Songs from Billy Joel, The Beach Boys, and Simon and Garfunkel, yes those were the days!  The Piano Man tells us that it’s OK to be a rebel, ‘cause only the good die young.  No one’s getting shot in the streets because everybody’s going surfing.  I don’t know about you, but after being blasted with the hip, new music of today, the Sounds of Silence are sounding pretty good right about now.  I think our only hope at this point is that they all eventually just drop from the sexual exhaustion alone.

So here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson;  Jesus loves you more than you will know –  Woa, woa, woa…

About Scott Sevener (580 Posts since 2001)
The Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Just Laugh, Scott writes about the random things in life that amuse him - from the miracle of childbirth to the bologna sandwich he just ate for breakfast. He currently resides in Tampa, FL with a girl, a baby, and a dog that never shuts the hell up.