I woke up one Saturday morning and I couldn't understand cartoons any more because they were all in Spanish. After checking to make sure I didn't accidentally turn my television to UHF or
forget to pay my cable bill, I realized Dora the Explorer had done the same thing to my weekends that Oprah did to my weekdays.
Handy Manny makes me feel like Arizona state about my cartoons. It was easy to avoid foreign language programming as long as I knew where TELEMUNDO was (usually sandwiched between a station existing on Matlock reruns and public access stations where old people filmed each other talking about Matlock).
When the Latin invasion invaded the cartoons, I was still in a Friday night fog and wrote it off as a Menudo revival. After a few weeks, I realized even Timothy Leary doesn't hallucinate that long. My television wasn't speaking English anymore. I almost called an old priest and a young priest. I gave it a crucifix in hopes I wouldn't have to pay for the SPICE CHANNEL ever again. Nothing happened there. I've chalked it up as a demographic shift, wondering if TACO BELL would ever have the balls to buy every commercial spot around DIEGO.
When they run out of ideas and start harvesting old cartoons like Puffy Diddy P Diddle Dizzy Combs getting a BEST OF THE 80s collection, I think Scooby Doo is ripe for a redux. I'm thinking it'll be about a bunch of Mexicans riding around in a van with a chihuahua, going from town to town, solving landscaping mysteries. Every episode will end up with the cops, conveniently never verifying the protagonists' legal status, arresting some pasty white guy. When they rip off his mask, he'll yell:
“AND I WOULD'VE GOTTEN THE JOB TOO IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU MEDDLING IMMIGRANTS!”
No comments:
Post a Comment