Category Archives: Media

Duh

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

September 10, 2004

It’s big news on NBC’s TODAY Show.  Matt is worried.  He is worried about Katie and her two daughters.  Are they watching television?  And how much?

Matt wants Katie to know.  A research study has just proven that the more kids watch “it,” the more likely kids are to “do it.”  Sex, that is.  “Katie,” Matt insists, “this study proves that television can influence teens to have sex.”  Katie barely lets him finish before responding.

“Duh!” she chides.

Matt tries again.  Does she know watching sex can be a negative influence on her two girls?  Katie interrupts him.

“Duh! Like I didn’t know that?”

It’s a lead story for NBC’s TODAY Show.  A very expensive year-long research study by the Rand Corp. has come to the following conclusion.  “(A)dolescents who watched the most television with sexual content were twice as likely to initiate sexual intercourse over the next year as adolescents who watched the least amount of TV with sexual content.”

“Duh?”

Isn’t this what right-wing, idiotic, moralistic, radical, in-your-face, Bible-thumping, puritanical, fundamentalists have been saying for years?  If we could wrangle a fundamentalist to the ground and force him to quote scripture, he might moralize with a Proverb.  Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.  Put away perversity from your mouth; keep corrupt talk far from your lips.  Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you.  (Prov 4:23-25 NIV)

Oh, that we had heeded their pious, mean-spirited, fear-inducing, prurient advice in the 1970s and taken steps to control the sexual content of our culture.  Oh, that we would refuse to let shows like Friends and Sex in the City pander to our children in prime time.  Oh, that we would force MTV to become a pay-for-view station just like Playboy.

Instead, we wait thirty years for promiscuous sex to capture the hearts of a generation of teens, for the number of unwed teen pregnancies to skyrocket, and for an epidemic of sexually transmitted diseases to plague us.  Then we hire a research firm to tell us what got us to this point.

Rebecca Collins is the lead RAND psychologist who directed the study of nearly 1800 adolescents aged 12 to 17.  They were asked about their television viewing habits and their sexual behavior.   One year later they were surveyed again.

The RAND study results were published in the September issue of “Pediatrics.”  Not only does watching television impact our teens, but according to Collins, “The impact of television viewing is so large that even a moderate shift in the sexual content of adolescent TV watching could have a substantial effect on their sexual behavior.”

In fact the impact of television is even greater than the average person might suspect.  It makes little difference whether the TV show presents people talking about sex or engaging in sex.  Explaining this, Collins says, “Both affect adolescents’ perceptions of what is normal sexual behavior and propels their own sexual behavior.”

Duh!

Methinks I hear another fundamentalist whispering in my ear.  Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.  (Phil 4:8 NIV)

“We found that we could predict whether the kids went from being virgins to having had sex over the course of that year using the information about which shows that they watched,” Collins told NBC’s Stephanie Stanton.

Duh!

Collins continues, “It’s not just visuals…it’s the talk about sex, it’s the idea that TV shows are always talking, and thinking, and acting sexually, and that that’s what works its way into kids’ consciousness.”

Duh!

To be fair, we owe Collins a debt of gratitude for putting common sense on the radar screen for academicians and politicians who run from any hint of fundamentalist morality, no matter how many centuries those morals have served mankind.  Collins and her colleagues have given parents a reason to trust their own good judgment and take a stand for the noble things of life…good clean television, where whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is admirable…those are the things…

we must talk about…

think about…

and do.

No duh.

FOR MORE ON AMERICAN ENTERTAINMENT

April 9, 2004:    Dear Paul

May 7, 2004:    Thank You, Janet

July 9, 2004:    Why Johnny Can’t Read…or Write…or Count

 

James Bond in Danger…For Real

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

July 30, 2004

Our son Justin just graduated from college and came home for a few weeks to regroup before heading off for a new life in Florida.

Sorting through his belongings and packing boxes, we came across the twelve VCR tapes of James Bond movies Justin recorded many years back during a week-long Bond marathon on television.  Forty years of 007 tradition…Moneypenny, “M”, vodka martinis, shaken not stirred, gadgets in watches, cars that sail and fly into space…all of it tightly packed into a box headed for Florida.

Bond, the ultimate Man…always clever, swift, rough, rugged, deft, handsome, smug, suave, debonair.  Bond…always a survivor.

Not anymore.

But it’s not what you might expect.  Bond is not in danger of death from villains, double-crosses, guns, crossbows, or bombs.  Nope.

It’s the action under the sheets that has Bond one step from the grave.

Professor John Ashton, a director of public health in the UK, has just pointed out the obvious. If James Bond were a real person, the good professor tells reporters, he would have almost certainly been HIV positive.  007 is more at risk from careless sex than he is from any arch enemy.

Beginning in 1962 with Ursula, Eunice, and Daniela, straight through forty years into the new millennium with Denise and Elektra…The World is Never Enough when it comes to Bond and his women.  No matter how swift the action and dangerous the situation, in each and every movie 007 always has time to “make whoopee” with a new Bond woman.

Liberated by Hollywood magic, Bond and his eternal harem are free to flow with their sexual urges.  No matter how short the friendship, or how fleeting the relationship, 007 and his woman of the moment inevitably merge in a big-screen sexual romp.

According to Hollywood, sex is everything wonderful…anytime, anywhere, and with anyone.

According to medical realities, sex is only wonderful…in the right time, in the right place, and with the right person.  And no gadget known to mankind will save Bond…or the rest of us…from the inevitable.

Medical realities are amassing in data to prove the truth of what abstinence educators have been teaching over the past twenty years.  Professor Ashton raises the same alarm.  Sex has consequences, both good and bad.  And the bad consequences of sex will not disappear, no matter how big the denial is from those who promote condoms and “safe sex.”

The medical realities are these.  The world is engulfed in a major STD epidemic.  We now have over 20 serious STDs responsible for death, infertility, and incurable infections.  New national figures just released for England, where Professor Ashton lives, show a dramatic increase of STDs.  Syphilis is up 28 per cent from the previous year, and chlamydia is up by nine percent.  No wonder.

Condoms are not fail-safe.  They are subject to failure…and lots of it.  For teens and pregnancy, condoms fail approximately 20 percent of the time.

Condoms are never fail-safe.  They have no documented effectiveness in preventing humanpapilloma virus (HPV) infections, the virus responsible for over 97 percent of cervical cancer. Genital herpes viruses infect one in five people over the age of twelve… partly owing to the fact that they live on body areas not covered by the condom.  These are just a few of the realities that never touch Bond.

Hollywood profits from building the illusion that Bond will never die…from anything.  This makes for great movies.  But in our hearts, we know the truth.

We know it’s an illusion when we see 007 dodging a hail of bullets, skiing off the top of the Alps and landing with a downhill swoosh of grace, sailing down the slope, around the trees, and over the rocks…his hair unmessed and his body unsmashed.

In bed, the illusions are no less spectacular. Bond has been allowed to dodge STDs, pregnancy and abortion through ignorant movie “madness.”

Illusions make great movies.  But they are deadly in real life.

No doubt about it.  If you want to Never Say Die, take note.  Bond is a great thrill to watch.  But he is no role model for living a life in the real world…on the slopes…in space…or under the sheets.

 

April 30, 2004:  Condoms: A Failure to Protect

 Question:  Did James Bond ever marry?

Answer:  Come back next week for the answer…

See Archives for past editorials.

Order in the Courtroom!

May 14, 2004

Her steely eyes shoot laser beams over the bench.  “You got it wrong!” she lashes out to her targeted victim.  “WRONG!”

The camera pans around the courtroom past a young lady at a podium, moves across an aisle and a gallery of spectators, and lands on a young man at another podium.  His shoulders sag an inch, and his eyes fall to the ground.

“Look at me!” Judge Judy’s sharp voice commands.  She has lost her sense of humor.  And it’s hard to blame her.

Week after week, her courtroom is filled with young men and young women fighting it out to the bitter end.  Lots of young men and lots of young women, but their stories are the same sad song.

They fell in love.  He moved in.  They had a baby.  He moved out.  And now, standing on opposite sides of the aisle in a courtroom, they are laying out all the reasons why the other person is awful.  It’s all his fault.  Or her fault.

“I only want what’s fair,” the young man says.  “I paid the rent for a year.”

“But he said he would support me,” the young woman challenges.  “And then I caught him with another girl.”

All the while Judge Judy shakes her head.  Impatient…she taps her pencil on the papers.  She looks at her bailiff Burt.  “Do I look stupid?” she asks him.

Smiling, Burt shakes his head.

“Stop!” the Judge snaps.  “Stop, I’ve heard enough.”

“But I haven’t finished.”

“You don’t need to finish, Madam.”

“But he wrecked my car and he said he would fix it.”

“But I paid her rent, and she owes me half.”

“STOP!”  The boy and girl stand silent, and the audience giggles.  They know what is coming.  They’ve heard it all before.

“You got it wrong, Sir.  Young lady, you got it wrong.  First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes boy and girl with a baby carriage.

“None of this makes any difference.  You aren’t married.  You decided to do things your own way…out of order…and you created this mess.

“The saddest part of this is that you now have a child together.  The baby is going to pay for your mistakes.

“No.  If you had been married, then you would have had an agreement. Marriage means there are certain obligations and definite rules about how to start a marriage and make it work. Then we could talk.

“But you have nothing.  That’s it.  You had a friendship, and now you don’t.  Case dismissed.”

It makes for entertaining television.  But it makes for tragic lives.

If members of Congress really want to know why marriage is important, they need to watch Judge Judy during each lunch recess.  They will have a front row seat to witness the endless stream of young girls and boys who never learned the natural order of life, of producing families, and of creating marital harmony.

America abandoned marriage in the 60s for the promise of “real love,” and now we have a culture where order doesn’t matter.  Fall in love, get pregnant, live together, move out and start over again, it’s a new modern order that never gets down to the basic question of life.  What about the children?

The traditional order of love and life was not an arbitrary structure forced upon society by some mad social scientist.  It is a natural order established in all world cultures over thousands of years, an order that recognizes the basic desire of humans to fall in love and to build families.  It’s an order that we used to teach our children, an order we used to honor in our own lives as their parents.

The young people in Judge Judy’s court room are funny to watch when we treat their problems as entertainment.  But they and their problems are tragic when you think of what we have failed to teach them.  We have failed to address the true path of building life together with another person and planning for success.

Order in the courtroom:  first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Dad and Mom with a baby carriage.

See April 23, 2004: m…m…m…Married?

Thank You, Janet

May 7, 2004

I may be the only person in America who wants to thank Janet Jackson for her trashy NFL debut.

I have nothing to add to the volumes already written about Janet’s breast.  How many times can you say disgusting?  Inappropriate?  Filthy?  Degrading?  My thesaurus is worn out!

Besides…I really need to thank Janet.  She accomplished more in the flash of a moment than all the letter writing campaigns and citizen phone calls did during the past twenty years.

I know.  I tried.

A short five years ago, while changing channels, my husband was assaulted by a porn-fest on our basic no-frills television service.  Up to that moment we had considered our home porn-free, having rejected any and all offers for HBO and similar pay-for-filth stations.  We just wanted the basics.

We had no idea that basic service would funnel XXX movies (relabeled NC-17) into our home right along with the Disney, Toons, History, and Food channels.  Right there, passing from channel 40 to 44, an IFC movie with blatant oral sex was in full swing.  And we decided to take action.

We called and we wrote.  I have a fat folder of all the letters and faxes demanding a change.  Our little battle campaign took months and involved everyone we could think of:  IFC, ABC, COX, FTC and FCC.  The answer in each case was the same.  WDC.

WDC…We Don’t Care.  The universal response to the filth funneled into our home, unbidden and unwanted was, “We don’t care.”  Each person had their own version of WDC.

The program director for IFC (Independent Film Channel) said she hadn’t seen the XXX movie because she didn’t “watch that kind of filth.”  She would sell it.  But she wouldn’t watch it.

The cable network said it was our fault.  “You should have known it was there before you turned on the television.  Read the television guide.  All of it.”

The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) representative told me to buy a new television…”with a V-chip.”

They all agreed on the basics.  Basically, according to them, my husband and I were the guilty parties.  Our problem could be easily solved.

We should, they explained, carefully pour through the TV guide and make note of all the programs, on all 300 stations, all 24 hours, each and every day of the year.  As conscientious parents, we would then know for each and every minute of the day what potential filth might be there ready to attack us.  Like media sentinels, we would stand guard 24/7 in front of the household television ready to pull the plug at just the right moment.

Or…they told us…we could get rid of our television.  Really.  After all, being an American does not guarantee us the right to watch television.

I wrote the Federal Communications Commissioner.  What in the world was he doing to guarantee basic standards of network programming to homes with children?  What did he intend to do about stations that put nudity, profanity, and porn onto basic television service?

WDC.  His answer?  Silence.  We don’t care.

What did five months of letters, phone calls, faxes, and newspaper editorials produce?  Nothing.  Actually…worse than nothing.

Five months after writing the first letter of protest, while studying my television guide, I found the same XXX movie slated for rebroadcast, once again as a basic program option for all families.   There it was in the program guide, three separate broadcast dates in October, three opportunities to teach children the basics of sadistic sex and porn on family television.

Five years ago, the Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission put his stamp of approval on porn for families when he failed to care, when he failed to take action.

As much as it pains me to say it, “Thank you, Janet.”  You did what I was never able to do.  You got their attention.  Maybe you were crass, maybe you tarnished the image of America abroad, and maybe you defiled the ultimate family entertainment known as the Super Bowl.  But someone had to do it.

At long last, we have the attention of the FCC.  Legislators are serious about taking care of the needs of families and children.  Finally, we are ready to draw a line in the sand and stand for decency.

If we had been doing our job all along, we would never have suffered through this year’s Super Bowl fiasco.  And for that, we owe you, Janet.  Thank you.

See April 9, 2004, Dear Paul

Dear Paul

April 9, 2004

I’ve read your letter.  Right there, one day after the Super Bawdy 2004 half-time show, I wanted to see what the NFL Commissioner Mr. Tagliabue himself had to say.

But, Paul, I’m confused. You say you are delivering a “powerful message.”  You warn people, “Don’t even think about it.”  You promise “harsher discipline for over-the-top demonstrations” complete with “stronger penalties and fines, even leaving open the possibility of suspensions.”

Yes, I’m confused.  You see, it sounds so good to read your unequivocal message, your powerful promises to crack down…until…it dawns on me that you are not talking to MTV, CBS, Janet or Justin.

The power of your outrage is directed to cell phones in the end zone.  You pull no punches.  “Cell phones, pens, all the other things, penalties likely will escalate if this does not stop.”  Wow!  You really told them.

Thankfully, Paul, you don’t have to fight this battle alone.  Many coaches are “outraged by these episodes.”  They have called to tell you that such incidents are “uncalled for and humiliating to their players and embarrassing to players in general.”

Well, Paul, you’ve got it half right.  You clearly have the language of outrage mastered.  But you need to use it for more than cell phones in the end zone.

So what about your comments on a naked breast center field?  Ahem.  With great restraint and tact you let America know you “were extremely disappointed.”  You promise us you will “deal far more effectively with the quality of this aspect of the Super Bowl.”

Very tactful, Paul.  But certainly, tact is not what is required here.  Where is the language of outrage…the penalties, the suspensions, the take-no-prisoners call for an end to trash and filth hawked through the open door offered by the NFL?  Where are the calls from coaches “outraged by these episodes”?

Super Bawdy 2004 was not just about one breast.  It’s about a game of fun being hijacked for the sake of corporate profits.  It’s about nasty being sold as cute…at every turn.  And it’s about an NFL hierarchy that has been willing to “go along” for the ride.

So you’re upset about Janet’s naked chest?  Then explain to us why the only women televised on NFL games are the ones with bare chests pushed together into deep cleavage framed by cheer leader costumes.

So you’re upset by commercials that have an entire nation saying “Holy S—” in unison?  Then explain the “Best Damn Sports Show” promoted constantly without blushing.

Monday Night Football, a family tradition for us, has become increasingly irritating in its display of T&A in commercial times.  The Twins and their boobs flash an unending peep show and cameras take shots of products through the suggestive pose of a woman’s open legs.  Any five-year-old can imagine the cameraman looking up the lady’s skirt to admire her thong.

Dear Paul, Super Bawdy 2004 is the natural result of the NFL playing with fire long enough that it finally got burnt.  And now that the rage of a country is blazing, we need something more than a limp-wristed “aw shucks…we really wish you hadn’t done that” comment from the Commissioner.

What do we need from you, Paul?  Dust off your speech for cell phones and black pens.  Call up your outrage!  Work up a lather.  Draw a line in the sand.  Demand, threaten, and punish.  You are the one who ultimately pays the piper, and you get what you pay for.  Draw the purse strings closed and set out the rules of the game in plain language that everyone can understand…even if you have to follow the rules yourself.

The sorry truth of this whole sorry affair is this.  If you want to keep selling the “Best D___ Game in Town” with bikini-clad babes, you are not going to be able to exercise the moral authority to keep another Janet and Justin from rising out of the ashes.

You have shown us your outrage, Paul.  Now…show us you know what to do with it.