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.

**********************************

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.

last - next