When I was in college, a friend of mine owned both a VCR and a movie to play in that VCR. I know that these days, when you can watch a movie on your phone, that isn’t such a big deal, but back then it was. Or at least it was in my circle of friends: we were so broke that we used to fantasize about one day being rich enough to afford the name brand mac and cheese. But I digress. He owned an actual movie. And that movie was Monty Python’s Holy Grail.
Now, Monty Python’s Holy Grail is a funny movie. A hysterical movie, even. And one that, yes, can be viewed over and over again and still be entertaining. However, even the great Monty Python has its limits, and after a solid semester of watching The Holy Grail night after night I was done. More than done. Not only could I not watch The Holy Grail anymore, I couldn’t watch Life of Brian or The Meaning of Life. I could barely even watch Time Bandits, and that was just Terry Gilliam.
Anyway, the point of all of this is that, yes indeed, it is, in fact, possible to get too much of a good thing—or at least that was the point for me. (The point for you might have been: get wealthier friends). However, as I said, that was the point for me, and it was a point I managed to remember for many years. Right up until the very moment, about two years ago, when I didn’t remember it anymore. Which explains how it came to be that I let my kids ruin The Simpsons for me.
Don’t get me wrong. The Simpsons is a great show—probably one of the best shows on television. It’s clever, biting, and quite often really, really funny. And, just like The Holy Grail, I can’t stand to watch it anymore. I can barely even bring myself to read Matt Groenig’s “Life in Hell.” And why? Because my kids ruined it for me.
The thing is, they were clever about it—or at least cleverer than me. If they had simply played episode after episode of The Simpsons I would have had sense enough to stop them before it was too late. They didn’t ever watch The Simpsons, though. No, they were sneakier than that. What they did was watch Family Guy, American Dad, Futurama, The Cleveland Show, South Park and anything and everything on Adult Swim; and they watched these shows over and over and over again, until even the guys at Netflix must have been impressed by their single-minded determination to view cartoons 24/7. (Or maybe appalled. Yeah, I’m going to go with appalled.)
I don’t know why I find this to be so surprising: when they were younger they were the same way with the Land Before Time series. They watched those movies so often that the rewind button wore out on our VCR. (To this day I think that if I ever run into the person who voiced Sara the Triceratops—say in line at Starbucks, or something—I will probably hit them. Hard.)
Who knows: maybe I’m the one who is missing out on something. Maybe, for them, watching the same shows (and listening to those same voices) over and over again is their version of a koan. Maybe instead of “the sound of one hand clapping,” it’s “the sound of Peter Griffith’s voice.” Maybe, by seeing the same thing again and again, they are getting beneath the surface of reality and seeing the light that connects us all. Maybe this is actually the next step in our evolutionary process—from Primitive Man to Video Man, and maybe I’m just an evolutionary holdout, like the appendix, unnecessary and easily irritated.
Or maybe they really are just trying to drive me crazy.