Saturday, January 23, 2010

I'm Not Dead, But If I Was, You Should Question the Creepy Preacher

Yes, I know it's been a while. I apologize. I hate taking unexpected blogging hiatuses. They make me sad. Sometimes, though, you just wake up on Saturday morning and think I really need to write that blog post. I started it, let's see... Tuesday. Tuesday? Tuesday?!? Really? I haven't written anything since Monday? That's terrible. Ohmygoodness.

So, Monday night (I think) I was watching an episode of Bones. It may have been a rerun or it may have been a new episode. It would help if I could remember what night it was. Anyway, I think Zack was in it, which makes it a rerun. Unless he's back from the insane asylum. Which, I don't know. I think they would have hyped that enough that I would know about it.


I thought to myself, "Well, it's got to be the creepy preacher." And guess what. It was the creepy preacher. The creepy preacher is practically a horror/crime standby now. Along with the cheerful nurse and the cute kid. I'm telling you, there is just a certain level of cuteness in a kid that spells psycho killer. I'm glad that my kids are cute, really cute, but not that cute. We have a lack of dimples for one thing. Dimples are always a bad sign. I'm telling you, Brynna is precious, but if she had dimples, I would sit up every night waiting for her to sneak in my room with a butcher knife. And I don't even own a butcher knife.

Which got me thinking, "Why is it always the preacher or the kid?" I came up with a few theories. A couple serious and a couple totally wackadoodle, which is how life should be. Half serious and half wackadoodle.

1. It's ironic. And not in the Alanis Morrisette way. You see, it's ironic because as a culture, we expect kids and preachers to be good people. So, when they start bumping people off, it's ironic. Because it's unexpected. Except, as I demonstrated watching Bones, it's not really unexpected anymore. It's expected. I think Children of the Corn was the last straw, personally. A creepy child preacher. It's not ironic anymore. Frankly, it would now be ironic to have the kids be cute, crayon-coloring harmless creatures and the preachers to be good people trying to help out. Because no one expects that anymore.

2. It seems nicer to be slaughtered by a kid. Because, you know, kids are nice. And cute helps. If you're going to diced into a million pieces for someone's amusement, at least the view should be nice at the end. Of course, preachers aren't always attractive. In fact, they're really only attractive in romantic comedies. So, I can't explain that one.

3. A killer child (or preacher) represents our failure. Face it, if your kid starts playing Norman Bates at three, you've probably messed something up big time. Now, I'm not saying it's always the parent's fault or anything, but there's probably something there. Likewise, if a preacher is secretly storing seventeen year old girls in his basement for a rainy day, then someone in that church should have seen the crazy. In the larger sense, it's our failure as a society. We allow children to feed on whatever elements of culture strike their fancy. We tolerate cult behavior under the guise of freedom of religion and so here we are. Blood covered toddlers and mace wielding pastors. It's a bad thing.

4. We all secretly live in fear of our children. Think about it. Who else would we spend half of our life tip toeing around to keep from waking them. Feeding them constantly. Why? Could it be because we fear they'll eat us if we don't. Perhaps.

There you have it, a brief analysis of some crap no one ever thinks about but me. You're welcome.

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