Banalization

It’s a manipulation. Children are supposed to believe that things will always end perfectly and that even when things are bad they could be worst, to make one believe that their situation isn’t bad at all. This type of thinking makes issues appear meaningless and futile.

Repetition is key to making an issue become banal. Banal to the point where when you see that particular problem, you don’t even recognize or you shrug it off as easily as it it were an annoying fly instead of a threatening disease. Repetition—that’s why each show has its own underlying, twisted plot.

I remember eagerly awaiting Fairly Odd Parents to come on, daily. I wanted so badly to watch this boy whose parents treated him like crap to the point where his dependence was on an imaginary couple. This is parallel to the neglected child who seeks affection from friends, teachers, anyone else. If we were to find out about a situation like this we’d say “Oh, that’s terrible!” and do what?

Spongebob. Oh, how I love Spongebob, so much. I have two sisters. We used to watch Spongebob together, ALL THE TIME. We even assumed their identities (just like in Power Puff Girls—which is another story). My older sister, we would kid was Squidward, I was Spongebob, my younger sister—bless her soul—Patrick. Growing up, I was bubblier than the other two, more energetic and always seeing things through the "positive" light. My sister always seemed to be doing homework, homework she could not stand. My younger, she just followed me around.

Our parents would bicker and argue rigorously; one time we all thought they would get a divorce (back when it wasn’t so popular) and I remember crying with my little sister while my older put in her headphones nonchalant as ever. That’s when I realized things don’t always get better, everything can’t shine under the positive light and that’s when I knew why my older sister was a Squidward.

He works this job that he hates, attends a building he loathes, for a boss that only cares about the money he makes at the end of the day, willing to charge them for the mere space they take up in an enterprise they work for to make him money. If I were change "he" to "she," I’ve just described the school career of my sister: your average student. That percentile of millennials who were told to be successful and survive, they needed college to make money. Colleges first take money that average students don’t have, promise careers they never obtain, and leave them debt they nearly never can afford.

Squidward is cast as this cynical, down-trodden character and we laugh at him. We find him hilarious and he is —through the screen. But when you meet a real Squidward, it is hardly funny at all.

We begin to realize why these characters are the way they are and begin to question...everything—from our friends to our parents to “the system.” Bringing us all to the brink of becoming Squidwards. When we’re old enough to watch those shows and pinpoint immediately the problems, absolute parallels to reality, it’s already too late.

We’ve begun watching the shows that make fun of those issues. We watch the shows which we supposedly relate to. But, you know what? Those shows are realistic fictions. We do not relate to them, they are relative to us. But they make us think that everything is absolutely normal and okay because in the screen, the character is crying in her bathroom and feeling hopeless.

“That was me just the other night!”

“That was me just the other night!”

Froot Loops seem like a good breakfast choice today. Oh, if only I had some milk.

I put in my headphones, nonchalant as ever.