Of BJ’s, Slam Bangs and Other Dirty Old Things - Mariana

Of BJ’s, Slam Bangs and Other Dirty Old Things.

I am a reasonable person.  I no longer have a problem with Pooh Bear.  After a few years of exposure I have grown to accept a kids’ character being named ‘Pooh’ -  with an ‘h’.  I even tolerate the character’s octogenarian falsetto on my tv and his insipid face all over my house, grinning up at me from toy shelves, books, vests, shoes, cutlery, shoe soles even.…

But tolerance has its limit, and mine was tipped by a prancing, yellow dinosaur called BJ.  At first I went into denial - wouldn’t you? "No," I insisted, "Barney clearly said DJ."  Some moments of concentrated ear-straining later my husband shook his head: "That was most definitely a 'B'". It couldn’t be! You could not possibly have a BJ on a kids’ show!  

But I already had my doubts; after all I had, over the last couple of years, already grown resigned to Spongebob living in Bikini Bottom, the Rugrats’ head teacher being called Slam Bang Pangborn and movies detailing the many adventures, in the land of partying, lip-pouting and ass-wagging, of a set of degenerate pre-tween horrors aptly called ‘Bratz’.

Still I dared hope - until I checked the DVD box that is. I put the box down, resigned: Yes, we had a BJ on tv!  Then something inside me snapped: What kind of sick, fucked-up moron could have thought of calling a kids’ show character BJ?  What even sicker, more fucked-up and infinitely more moronic producer had looked at the proposal and thought, "Ah yes, that’s what a show with an insufferable, prancing, purple dinosaur needs: a BJ"? Why couldn’t it have been called George, Peter…Pooh even?  And why do so many kids’ programs need to keep going nudge, nudge, wink, wink at the parents behind the kids’ back all the time?  

No, I am not paranoid: it’s there! Watch a random half hour of Nickelodeon and you’ll get nudges and winks of all sorts. You can get a Kiss concert (how many kids have even heard of Kiss?) or a James Bond remake, complete with Bond babe and all.  Watch ‘Shrek’ and tell me how many kids will get the Charlie’s Angels jokes, or for whose enjoyment  Joan Rivers is doing the red carpet, the wolf is reading ‘Pork Illustrated’ or the Fairy godmother is slapping "the sexy tush" of the promised prince? Then, carry out a Google image search for Peppa Pig and tell me whether you’d choose a different design for the head if you had to design a pig's face for a kids' programme…can it be that difficult to draw a pig’s head that looks less like a man’s genitalia and more like, say, a pig’s head?

These aren’t unfortunate, innocent but hilarious coincidences.  If he received cable tv down there, Freud would be jumping up and down in his grave shouting: "That’s not just a cigar, and that’s not just a pig’s head..... and if Spongebob and Patrick are ‘just friends’ I’ll eat my hat". 

I’m not a frustrated, dirty, old thing sitting at her PC whining: I’m the no-longer-so-amused viewer. Besides, frustrated, dirty, old things don’t sit at their PC whining. They’re too busy designing a new character for the Barney Show: a nine inch dino called ‘Dick’ - you know, one for the ladies.