Intro to “I Will Survive and Other False Examples of Dramatic Irony”

A lot can be learned from a show like Rugrats, keeping in mind the fact that it is a Nickelodeon show from the nineties and a cartoon incidentally, which spoke the mindset of the current generation (which was figure-headed by extremely socially-aware and intellectually over-developed babies) in more words than goo and ga. One episode in particular presented the cultural internal conflict of a so-called anachronistic music genre, being none other than disco. For a show with a theme song consisting almost exclusively of lullaby-like xylophone melody, the show seemed to be the highest authority on musical popularity. Dee Dee, the so-called “mother-who-knows-best” essentially shits on her husband Stu , the “idiot dad,” for being a closeted disco fan and attempts to sell his Tony Montana-esque leisure suit at a garage sale. Keeping in mind this was a children’s show, for my generation which is now post-pubescent, that was more or less a great example of corporate brain-washing. The Mountain Dew-fueled creative teams behind some of the zaniest children shows starring kids felt the need to do the dirty work of helping to further eradicate a genre that apparently had not faced enough media-reinforced opposition back in 1978 when die hard heterosexual rockers felt the need to stage a coup de etat against the Bee Gees and other contemporaries for fear of sonic procreation (but I thought they couldn’t reproduce?). This is what I get from watching cartoons.

When did we officially stop using our ears? What is the exact date that music stopped mattering in a strictly sonic sense? What ever happened to gauging the validity of a musical product solely by the number of hairs that stood up along one's chilled spine as a result of the pleasurable sensation elicit from a good-sounding example of music craftsmanship? Fingers can be pointed (mostly middle ones) as to uncovering the culprit(s) behind the decline of ear-based music. When I tune into stations named with letters that used to stand for a shred of music relevance, I am instead insulted by stereotyped versions of target demographics. That is to say that no longer do such stations as MTV or VH1 house videos of musicians (or at least talented ones); they merely parody the types of people who actually willingfully perform lebotamies upon themselves by absorbing whatever mindless content provides a few moments stimulation. By creating a station called VH1 Classic (as in from when music still constituted at least part of the station's programming), a passive confession is implied as to VH1's present music-free state. VH1 needed to make room for a plethra of shows which teach the true meaning of love to every race and gender-based demographic of a developmentally-confused generation. So, while VH1 Classic airs a music videa of Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," VH1 Regular is likely to further display Bret Michaels affection towards mysogeny sans a lone acoustic guitar in the background (unless he's being employing one of his hackneyed "romantic douchebag" tactics in order to get laid by one of the girls he's going to eliminate later in the episode). Conclusion: Poison is a shitty, generic-sounding 80's hair band which upholds a chauvanistically trashy image regardless of the music's relevance (even though it usually is no more than just a sex-trap, a vehicle for getting Bret Michaels laid).