I called out sick today so I could buy myself a new keyboard. Until yesterday I hadn't realized just how crucial the space bar is. (If you, too, need proof see my last post.)
One of Junior's friends accidentally broke his Mator from Cars during a playdate, so I promised Junior a replacement the next time we were out. We stopped into the Disney store, and Junior grabbed a new one.
I was so distracted by Everett's fussing and the super-duper-uber friendly salespeople that I didn't notice until after we got home that the version of Mator Junior had chosen included machine guns strapped to his sides. Oh, and a button that makes a machine gun sound.
You're fucking kidding me, right? This is the new Mator?
What happened to this guy?
Oh right: a sequel.
Damn that Cars 2. Damn it to hell. After I saw the movie (which includes machine gun battles, torture, and bombings) I actually went and checked what a G rating stands for. In case you're wondering, like I, it means a movie "contains nothing in theme, language, nudity, sex, violence or other matters that, in the view of the Rating Board, would offend parents whose younger children view the motion picture."
It continues: "Depictions of violence are minimal."
I'm on the floor laughing. Seriously, I'm going to split my sides. Can you hear me?
I'm going to guess a few things here. I'm going to guess that the illustrious Rating Board is made up of:
1) 17-year-old guys who have been allowed to bring beer into the screening room
2) people who haven't interacted with a child under the age of 5 in 500 years and who have no clue what the sight of someone being tortured can actually do to a child
3) fucking idiots
Truly, I have no other explanation for why Cars 2 (and other alleged "chidren's" movies) have been given a G rating. Even stupid Ratatouille, which I bought for Junior because it seemed safe, was rife with violence. It's supposed to be about a rat who dreams of becoming a French chef! What could be more innocent than that?
On its packaging, Disney forgot to mention the homeowner who shoots up her house—in the opening scene no less—with a double-barreled shotgun to rid the place of rats.
And by "shoot up" I mean she LEVELS the place.
What really pisses me off is that up until Cars 2, Junior had had limited to no exposure to guns and the statement "I want to kill you" (thank you, Ratatouille). I'd kept him from guns not because I am a prude but because I am lucky that killing and violence have not been a part of my life, and I'd like to keep it that way for my children.
Did I expect it to last forever? No. Do I understand that playing things like Cops and Robbers, and Cowboys, and Bad Guys vs. Good Guys, and Superheroes can be part of a normal, healthy childhood and that these role-playing games can include aspects of violence? Of course.
But dammit, if G stands for Guns, Guns, and More Guns! in a movie, label it as such. Stop peddling these grotesque, malicious stories under the guise of being child friendly.
I wonder about a Rating Board that approves such apparent violence. I wonder about people who craft movies for children that feature killing sprees. I wonder why words like kill, shoot and torture need to make a home in a four-year-old's mind.
Most of all I wonder this: Just what are we trying to prepare our children for?
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.