Author: Thomas Degroat

“Pushing Daisies” is a murder-mystery comedy television show created by Bryan Fuller that I think everyone should watch and enjoy. It is a two season, 22 episode long series starring Lee Pace, Anna Friel, Chi McBride, and Kristen Chenowith. With this short runtime, amazing cast, and leading by one of the most critically acclaimed television creators of our time, I am amazed that more people have not watched it.

I started watching the show first when it started airing in 2007. The comercials made it seem like a quirky, funny, vibrant show and Bryan Fuller was able to deliver that flawlessly. This is exactly what I was looking for from television at this time and I fell in love. The story was engaging, the sets were gorgeous and the actors were beyond compare. So rarely do these three factors come together so amazingly like they did for this show. I will admit that I was little concerned that maybe I had built the show up too much, but when I started rewatching the box set again recently, all my emotions and love for the show came rushing back.

Lets first look at the design and aesthetics of the show. Bryan Fuller is known for his inventive use of color and using it to portray the themes and mental states of the characters. Look towards “Hannibal’s” amazing uses of reds, blacks, and whites to see an example of this. “Pushing Daisies” also does this, but with a lot more vibrancy. It mostly utilizes greens and yellows, but all the colors in this show are splendid and surprising. From the bright orange morgue to the intense cherry red lights in the Pie Hole, the colors really help to create the universe. From the very first look into the show, we know that this is a different, more colorful universe and the situation within it will be far from normal. This sort of universe building through colors is an expertise that we don’t often see right now as TV likes to now focus on dirt and grime.

Now onto the characters. I have never found characters that I have loved more or had more fun with than the characters in this show. I still have a crush on Lee Pace because of his portrayal of Ned, the Pie-maker. His character is awkward, endearing, and intensely caring. Lee Pace was perfectly cast as he was able to perfectly mix these characteristics into a believable and likable three-dimensional character. In addition Charlotte “Chuck” Charles was also an amazing character. She eventually became the backbone and heart of the trio that was formed between her, Ned, and Emerson Cod (portrayed by Chi McBride). In a great deconstruction of the trope of being the female and heart of the group, she also the strongest, most inquisitive, and most daring member as well, becoming a true center for the show to revolve around. And finally, I would be remiss if I did not discuss Olive Snook, portrayed by Kristin Chenowith. This character is the underdog of the show, but also one of the favorites. She is not a part of the trio that forms, but she is a secondary character that helps when needed. Much of the great comedy from the show comes from Chenowith’s amazing acting and the few musical numbers that they sprinkle in really bring the character to life.

While all of this is great, the story is also something to behold. The story is about Ned, the Pie-maker who has the ability to bring back the dead, with some few restrictions: if they are back for more than 60 seconds, someone else has to die in their place, and if Ned touches them a second time, they are dead forever. While this sounds like the beginning to a dark drama, the show is amazingly bright and humorous. Emerson Cod, a private detective, learns about Ned’s ability and ropes in to his business. Ned wakes the dead long enough to find their murderer and Cod collects the money. Eventually, the victim is Ned’s childhood love, Charlotte “Chuck” Charles. During this investigation, Ned can’t bring himself to kill Charlotte and so she lives with him (with no touching) and comes to help Ned and Emerson with their investigations. As you can probably tell from the description, this is a wildly inventive show and something I can guarantee you have never seen before.

If you have the free time to start a new series, I highly recommend this one. It is something that I have just started rewatching myself and I am still as in love with it as I was when I first started watching it. With only 22, 42 minute long episode, you could finish it in a weekend.

Satire is a dead art form. Though calling this astounding failure of writing an art form is laughable. Nonetheless, satire is dead, and it rightfully should be.

To give the audience more credence to this claim, we must explain this universally flawed type of writing. Satire is comedic writing in its simplest and ugliest form. To describe satire is to describe comedy as seen through the eyes of a dog. Dogs don’t understand comedy and they would inevitably turn it into the disreputable satire. Is satire funny? It’s funny if you like a person screaming jokes, then explaining it afterwards. There is not a single salvageable thing that can be gained from reading satire. To put it simply (since satirists couldn’t understand it any other way), satire is constant, grating sarcasm thrown at the viewer in hopes that the viewer is gullible enough to take it seriously. Satire is a writer trying to laugh at and make fun of his or her audience through writing.

The problems with satire can be easily distinguished. Though how to narrow those problems down to fit into anything less than a bible sized text is the real difficulty. First, we can easily state that one of the absolute major problems with satire is the author. The problem is not that the author is bad at English (though that is true), the problem is that the authors of satire are so absolutely in love with themselves that they cannot seem to write anything that does not immediately please themselves. They do not care about social justice or bettering people, they solely want to get a rise out of people. They want their sarcasm to be so heavily caked on that people start to believe them. Their only purpose is to laugh at these poor souls who think that what they are saying is true. Satirists are the slugs of the Earth and our only choice is to stamp them out.

The second problem with the “art” of satire is the subject and the writer’s incessant prattling on. That is one of the worst downfalls of any piece: over-explanation. These foolish writers don’t seem to understand that people only want simple, easy to digest works. The only people who could possibly want a long, detailed essay are the simpletons. Those are the only people who would need these bloated works to understand what the author is discussing. Most intelligent people prefer simpler works, because we already understand the nuances of whatever topic the satirist is trying to discuss. And the subjects themselves are nothing of interest either. Satire seems to attract writers that can only focus on the most heavily covered topics (Yes, I know about racism, but your nonstop blithering is not going to affect me, Mark Twain.). There is a plague of satire on any topic that gains moderate coverage in the news. It would be of great pleasure to everyone if these writers would cease their abhorrent attacks on the very act of writing itself. Heaps of sarcasm do not change opinions, but only work to shine a poor light on the author (though the title of “Satirist” is in itself bad lighting), and glorify whatever side they are trying to fight against.

It is best to move on to the third problem with satire, as the second problem only succeeds to leave a bad taste in one’s mouth. The third, and last, brobdingnagian problem with satire is the constricting limits of the genre. No other “art” in the world has such a tight box with which to work inside of. Satirists must, as a whole, be either entirely uncreative or entirely lazy, as no one ever dares to push a boundary. How could such a large group of “creative writers” be so absolutely uncreative? It is astounding as to how little there is to work with in satire. The criterion is sarcasm, and the only thing that can be done with that is to be sarcastic. This rule is such a dictator in its control that no one can seem to step out from under its boot to write satire of a new type. Has anyone tried to write a satire without the self-serving sarcasm? That would be a breath of fresh air and an actual piece of art, especially when compared to the works that currently find themselves under the category of satire.

Now knowing the three primary problems with satire, let’s look at a work of satire to see where it fails so utterly. The best choice of satire to rip apart is probably the mind-blowingly doldrum work of Jonathan Swift, “A Modest Proposal”. This hilariously inept article was written in 1729 and it is about the fascinating idea of the Irish selling their children as food for money. The topic sounds interesting enough, but once a person starts the essay, it’s easy to understand why most, if not all, fall asleep after the first sentence. But, in order to critique the genre, we must critique the work, so we must move forward. The problem with the author is an easy one to crack. Of course Swift is self-serving “comedy” writer, like all other Satirists. A Modest Proposal is an easy gateway to this view. The topic of cannibalizing Irish children is a harsh one, and he clearly meant for it to shock and disgust people. Unfortunately, some people were not able to see through his ruse and they fell to him, believing each and every word, as if he actually meant what he wrote. This can only be meant as a very strong indicator of Swift’s soulless “humor”. The problem with the subject is an evident one also. While subject is grotesque, if it were to fall into a much better writer’s hands, it would have become quite an interesting read. In Swift’s hands, this topic just stretches on and on until it becomes babbling rather than any real attempt to make a point. In addition to this, the topic, while interesting, is so laden with political commentary that it becomes a nuisance. But, finally, we shall make our way to the last issue, the confines of “A Modest Proposal”. This topic is so airtight, that one can clearly see Swift trying to stretch out his legs. It’s unfortunate that when Swift tried to stretch, the box only seemed to become smaller. Coarse sarcasm and a constricting topic only serve an unending rant about poverty. He seems to be intent on the eating of children, with no other comments, which is not only boring, but unnerving as well. A Modest Proposal is a failure of an article by a failure of a writer.

The Day of the Dead is a holiday that is celebrated all throughout the Catholic world, but the United States is particularly enamored with the colorful celebration in Mexico. There could be many explanations as to why America is so obsessed with this cultural holiday, but I believe the main reason is that our society likes to take things it doesn’t understand, mystify it, and fetishize it. It is extremely unfortunate that our society does this as this is a very important holiday and we only see the shallowest view of it. So in order to try and alleviate the appropriation that surrounds this holiday, I would like to share a brief history lesson of this holiday and its traditions. (Side note: I am not Mexican nor Latinx. If any of this is incorrect, seemingly biased, or misinterpreted, PLEASE let me know in the comments.)

The Mexican celebration of Day of the Dead is a mixture of ideas and traditions from the New World and the Aztec Empire. Originally, Dia de Muertos (the actual name of the Holiday) was celebrated at the beginning of summer before the Spanish colonization. It was dedicated to Mictecachihuatl, a goddess in Aztec religion, often romanticized to the “Lady of the Dead.” During this time, Aztecs would take time to remember the deceased and create alters in their honor. After Spanish colonization, this holiday was shifted to fit the three day celebration of Allhallowtide (All Saints’ Eve, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day) and the traditions were morphed to include the traditional practices of the Catholic holidays.

Today, the holiday is highly respected and enjoyable celebration that involves alter creation, visits to cemeteries, and offerings of food and flowers to the dead in hopes that they will visit. The entire holiday has a humorous tones which stems from the Aztecs’ ability to laugh at death. While I would love to go into all the details of the holiday, I don’t believe I have the authority to truly discuss every important aspect of the holiday. Instead, I will be focusing on three important aspects: ofrendas, calaveras, and La Calavera Catrina.

Ofrendas are alters made to honor the deceased. They are often made for an individual and the most common format is three tiers. They almost always contain orange and yellow marigolds as they are believed to attract the spirits of the dead and are called Flor de Muerto (Flower of Dead). The tiers then often contain different items that are specified to the individual. The bottom alter contains candles, a mirror, and washing items so that the spirit can refresh themselves. The second tier contains items that were important to the individual and let them feel comfortable. These include favorite foods, toys for children, tequila or mezcal for adults, and especially pan de muerto, a sweetbread. The top tier identifies the person the alter is for and may contain religious iconography. These ofrendas may be within one’s house or at the grave of the deceased. They are also highly variable and the one I described in this paragraph is only one of the forms. In addition, they are also created in schools and government buildings (without the religious icons) because of the high respect for the holiday.

Calaveras are probably the most recognizable aspect of Dia de Muertos. They are the sugar skulls that appear everywhere during the month of October. Calaveras did not come about until the 17^th century when the Italian art of sugar sculpture made its way to Mexico. In addition to sugar, they can also be made of clay in order to be solely decorative. Before the colonization, icons of skeletons were used to represent rebirth, whereas now, the popularity is often attributed to Jose Guadalupe Posada and his political caricatures. While some of the sugar skulls are edible, aesthetics are much more important and the skulls are not meant to be consumed. These skulls are placed on the ofrendas as well.

La Calavera Catrina is the caricature by Posada that popularized the heavily aestheticized sugar skulls. She was created to mock the Mexican people who ignored their heritage and emulated Western Europe. Created in the 1910’s, it is an etching of a skeleton dressed in European fineries. She has become an embodiment of death and she is now revered during Dia de Muertos like Mictecachihuatl was in the original Aztec holiday. She is often matched with a male skeleton, but they are not as popular as La Calavera Catrina. This icon heavily influenced the artistry of the calaveras.

As you can see, there is a lot of tradition and importance placed on this holiday. It is incredibly important that we are sensitive to this holiday and do not appropriate the traditions. It is great to want to learn more about the holiday and to appreciate it, nut our society to often mystifies it and we don’t take the celebration as seriously as we should.

Masturbation is a topic that is often avoided in society. Even as discussions about sex are becoming more common and more acceptable, masturbation is still something that people are very uncomfortable talking about. Art becomes a great venue to be able to discuss this topic as it forces us to confront it when witnessed. Pop art is especially powerful as it is much harder to ignore. Pop music forces us to discuss uncomfortable topics because popular music pervades our entire culture. While music is a lot freer with the topic of masturbation, it is still rare and we can see trends of discussion of masturbation and sex in music and relate them to societal changes.

Off the top of my head, I can list four songs that were culturally pervasive and about masturbation. These are “She Bop” by Cyndi Lauper, “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes, “I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls, and “Feeling Myself” by Nikki Minaj featuring Beyonce (all Linked below). Already we can see a trend with the songs. Three of them ( “She Bop”, “Blister in the Sun”, and “I Touch Myself”) occurring within 8 years of each other and two of them ( “She Bop” and “Blister in the Sun”) coming out within the same year. Why do we see this concentration of masturbation songs in this time period? We can assume this comes from the culture in which they were made. “She Bop” and “Blister in the Sun” came right near the end of the sexual revolution that started in the 60’s. The sexual revolution obviously caused the discussions of sex and masturbation to become more common and less disparaged. So while the conversation of masturbation was still mostly restricted, the sexual revolution signaled to musical artists that they could initiate the conversation without severe repercussions.

“I Touch Myself”, on the other hand, comes after the end of the revolution. This makes sense, but leads us to a question: If the sexual revolution already happened, why didn’t songs about masturbation become more popular? “I Touch Myself” is one of the only culturally pervasive songs about masturbation that came out in the 90’s. We can explain this through the evolution of the music industry in the 90’s. The industry started to see advantage of marketing to large groups of people, mostly teens and preteens. From this new revelation, the music industry greatly shifted to being mostly controlled by “kid-safe” boybands and female megastars. These new artists needed to be family friendly so that they could be marketed to the largest group of consumers possible. Therefore, slowly, sex and masturbation fell out of the discussion of music and was only allowed through allusions and carefully constructed metaphors. Luckily, this ended, the death marked by the heavy popularity of hip hop (where no topic of discussion is off limits) and the want of 90’s sensations to move to more serious music, like Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack” (also linked below).

Now where does “Feeling Myself” come into play? Well it is of my belief that we are in a new sexual revolution. Discussions about sex and masturbation are now more open than ever. We can see this reflected in the music as well. Discussions of sex in music has exploded since recovering from the sanitization of the 90’s. While the topic of masturbation within lyrics hasn’t recovered as quickly, it is clearly coming back. “Feeling Myself” is especially important as it links masturbation to personal pride and self-fulfillment, unlike “Blister in the Sun” where it is shamed for being an addiction. I believe “Feeling Myself” is the first in a long line of personally sexually liberating hit songs.

“She Bop” by Cyndi Lauper

“Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes

“I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls

“Feeling Myself” by Nicki Minaj ft. Beyonce

“SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake ft. Timbaland

Being a stranger is a weird, almost uncomfortable concept for me. I cannot pinpoint a specific time in my life when I felt this way. That is not to say that I have never felt out of place. I have felt bizarre many times: Drama Club auditions, various social gatherings, competitions, and so on. The reason there is no pinpoint time to focus on is because I have always been a stranger. I have not always been uneasy, but I have always been on the outside. My entire conscious life has been me with dealing with the fact that I am not part of the consensus. Some of it is from unfortunate circumstances, while most of it is my own doing. The best place to start with my constant and continuous stranger-dome is where it most likely began.

I was not unique to begin with, my birth was ordinary and easy and I was born normal and healthy. My unfortunate “uniqueness” started when I began to try to communicate with others. I was far from normal in that aspect. For some unexplained reason, whenever I tried to talk, it came out a gargled mess. I was speaking a foreign language while still speaking my native tongue. The only person who could understand me was my sister, and she had to become a translator for me. I was effectively mute without my sister. I don’t know what kind of lasting psychological impacts this has had on me, all I know is that this was my first encounter with a life-long problem of trying to connect with people.

Of course, since very few people could understand me as a child, I was placed in a speech pathology course from first to fifth grade. I rather like the course. My teacher was nice and fun and I had two other people in the class to become friends with. Unfortunately, that would change too. I would once again become an outsider. In third grade, one of the other students no longer had to take the class, and in fourth grade, neither did the other. I was alone in that class. I did not feel unique and special, I felt strange and like a failure. Eventually, though, I learned to take solace in it and cherish it as an important time when I wouldn’t have to feel ashamed about my speech. Life continued to changed, though. I had to move on to sixth grade where I could no longer take the speech classes. I had to continue being a failure at the basic human skill of speaking, and I still feel to this day that I am not an ordinary English speaker, I have an accent, even within my own family, and I still often have trouble with my pronunciation.

Sixth grade was an important year, not only for my loss of speech pathology, but also for my acceptance. This deceptive writing is not meant to say that I finally felt like less of a stranger. No, I still felt uneasy every day. The uneasiness just originated from a new source. In sixth grade I learned to accept the fact that I was gay. The ramifications of this, I can still feel today. I had always known I was gay in some capacity, but sixth grade is the year I finally accepted that I wasn’t bicurious or bisexual, but gay. This was not a beautiful moment where I truly became myself, like some movies have one believe. This was shaking nervousness that terrified me. I was not like everyone else, I was further alienated from the people that I wanted nothing more than be close to. To borrow a title from author Robert A. Heinlein, I was a stranger in a strange land. I could no longer lie to myself and be what everyone thought I was.

Even though I was able to accept the fact that I was no longer like everyone else, I could not admit it to others. I was stuck in a perpetual limbo where I was an aberrant, but not one that was readily visible. I was lost in my own mind and terrorized by the thought of what people might do if they found out. This terror was short lived, though, as I quickly realized that most of the people I cared about would still care for me, whether I was gay or not. But even though the terror of repercussion subsided, I was still terrified of telling anyone, and I still am. I still have my life firmly rooted in this preconstructed closet and only a few people have glimpsed inside. And while the previous sentence may cause others to believe that I was able to overcome this terror, they were misinformed. Only one of these glimpses were truly of my choice. Most of them were of some indecipherable obligation I felt to tell those people. I am still terrified of escaping this shallow place I’ve been hiding in and the only reason I even chose to discuss it is because of this concerning obligation I feel.

And the separation doesn’t end there, nor is it my greatest separation. In high school, I started to have, what I think, are very concerning thoughts about myself. At this time of my life, I started to realize that I didn’t feel like everyone else. I wasn’t having these hills and valleys of emotions that others seemed to have. They were truly happy or genuinely sad. I’m not sure if I’ve really felt these emotions in their fullest forms. I have laughed and I have cried, but I never seemed to be happy or sad. I was simply content. I didn’t have any hills or valleys, I only had a plain. Nice for grazing, but not very life affirming. This became the most absolutely horrifying of my aberrancies. How can I truly be a person if I don’t have these emotions? Am I simply struck with an empty depression that I’m not aware of, or am I truly without these ranges of emotion?

Perhaps the most pathetic thing about it is that I now crave some sort of emotional reaction. I feel empty and the only thing I truly want is to feel something other than the emptiness. I want to be in love, I want to be happy, I even want to be depressed, because at least it is something other than the utter flatness. I feel like I’m not actually living, that I am something different from everyone else and it’s not something I enjoy. Even as I was writing this, I wished I was in such an emotionally vulnerable state that I could cry, but I am unable. This is not my emotional vulnerability, this just an expression to me.

I have always been a stranger and I probably will always be a stranger. The most telling aspect of this is that when I moved into the dorm, I felt no different than when I did at home. I believe the reason behind that is because I have lived as a stranger my entire life. Being in a strange place is nothing new to me. This disheartening truth is a constant to me. I am a stranger no matter where I go, no matter who I am with, and no matter what I am doing.

Growing up, we all were excited for that special day, when the teacher would wheel in a television and pop in the videotape. All the sudden the screen would pop into color and we’d wait for the inevitable theme song to start playing so that we could all scream along. Shouting “Bill!” was the highlight of the day and it turned us all into one collective Bill Nye fan club. What made Bill Nye the Science Guy turn into an icon like he did? It wasn’t because it was a science show directed towards children, there were many of those. It was because of the format and direction of the show. I think it would be hugely beneficial for us to analyze this show and see why it affected us all so much.
First we should look at the “characters.” Bill Nye was certainly the star, but he was never the one to do the work. The kids always did the experiments with his help. They were the ones to initiate the experiments while seeing them through. Often they also took over the job of explaining the experiment while Bill Nye took a true backseat. I believe this is incredibly important because it puts the children in the limelight. It makes them capable, intelligent, and active. As kids, we could see ourselves in them and it allowed to believe that science wasn’t some unattainable subject that only adults could interact with. We could become scientists right then and create our own experiments. These kids on the TV could do it and why were we any different? Being able to relate to them was important and made the show easier to understand and made us more invested in what we were learning.
But there is more to the genius of the television show. Related to the former point, we see in the show that Bill Nye never talks down to the children. As far as he is concerned, they are on equal footing and equally able to be intelligent and make deductions. The children seemed to be as intelligent as Bill Nye. He would often ask them questions as if he truly didn’t know the answers and allow them to take over the show. It was another way for us to see ourselves as capable. It inspired us to become as intelligent as them and continue to seek knowledge in whatever ways were available to us. As before, this was crucially important. Both of these details together made the show incredibly relatable. It was important to be able to see ourselves as part of the show.
Of course entertainment also plays a big part in the show. Looking back at it now, the show seems steeped in 90’s but it is still pretty entertaining. I have to assume that it would be even more entertaining if I was still a kid. The quick jump cuts and crazy camera angles and zooms seem distracting and unnecessary, but, as a kid, I knew that it would keep me invested. We all had much shorter attention spans when we were younger and the quick changes to scene make sure that we were not bored. The songs were quick and a nice reprieve, the experiments were entertaining and highly educational, and the jokes were just good enough (though honestly not very good) to make us laugh. Watching it now, I am still entertained and still learn from it, but I know that if I was younger, it would be infinitely better.
This show is still a hallmark of science television and it deserves every accolade it gets. While it has the crust of the 90’s laying on it, it is easy to overlook that and rewatch it. I am currently studying in a science field and I can’t help but believe that Bill Nye might have had something to do with it. We all love Bill Nye and there are many strong reasons for that. Television should look back on this hallmark and see how that can mold their shows to become as powerful as this one.