Music, Movies, and the Evils of Editing
2005-01-27, 8:24 p.m.

Attempt the Sixth, return of the first two cable technicians, one hour.

Systems are go. Houston, we have liftoff. I repeat, we have liftoff.

The cable works.

And there was much rejoicing.

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I was so glad to read breathtaken1 and discover that I�m not the only one who gets totally stuck on a song, to the point of supersaturation and driving my family to regurgitation. The latest foray into noise ad nauseum? My brand spankin� new ELO�s Greatest Hits CD, Track No. 7, �Sweet Talkin� Woman�. It is impossible to remain in a bad mood when you crank up Jeff Lynne and his catchy electric rhythms. Impossible for me, that is�strange how hearing it for the 36,758th time puts my children in one. Go figure. My children are the captive backseat audience, who will one day place me in a car as a passenger with them for a long trip and subject me to every song I have ever mentioned I hated during my lifetime. Their revenge will be sweet music to their sadistic little ears.

Thursday, 8pm. We are on the state and national Do Not Call lists. So, naturally, I get a not-quite-telemarketing type survey call from a place called The D0ve Foundation. Apparently it was half-live-human, half-automated recording, because it asked annoyed questions and requested that there be simple yes-no answers, not allowing me to politely butt in and tell them this was a REALLY bad time. So, I hung up and looked up their website for an email address at which to vent. Turns out they have a noble premise, promoting more family-friendly Hollywood fare, one of those good-in-theory-but-not-so-good-in-practice deals. They struck out big time when they did not give Harry Potter their seal of approval. Strike Two: They have a wide range of EDITED videos for sale. I�m not going to haul my children to the midnight showing of �The Evil Dead�, but neither am I going to hand over the editing equipment willingly and allow someone else to sanitize the earth for my protection. My children have a censor, and her name is Mom.

If you want proof of the evils of turning someone loose on the cutting room floor, just look at the W@rner Brothers cartoons. Wile E. and Bugs are edited almost beyond recognition. I grew up watching Wile E. hit the canyon floor time and again, and never developed the urge to hurl myself off the edge of the Grand Canyon. I want my politically incorrect, absurdly-violence-engorged cartoons back. Please. I�m a big girl. I can handle it.

So can my kids.

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