My weekend was a good bit of interesting and a large part of working with a taste of music and a hug of the sun. I don't feel like eloborating on it though. So instead, here is a little bit of satire for you all. It's my views on the whole parental control thing. Hope you enjoy. --- With his eyes fixed upon the moving pictures on the enormous talking square, he continuously filled brain cells awaiting their life‘s purpose to attain knowledge. From the songs that Barney sang to the lessons that Arthur taught, the little boy of only four years old absorbed every slight detail. A sharp pain under his small leg interrupted the soaking of information. An interesting plastic, rectangular object full of colorful buttons was the cause of this peculiar pain. The little boy had noticed this object before. He knew that those parent figures had used this to make the moving pictures on the large screen flicker to brand new moving pictures. What a powerful tool, the little prodigy of age four thought. Quite magical, really. Regardless of the fear that he was doing something wrong, he pushed a few of the tempting, colorful buttons. The big flashing square, which was often referred to as the two letters, “TV” in the “big adult” language, quickly responded to the touching of the buttons. The little boy watched as a woman, who was certainly not Mommy, poured out the mean, wet things from the eyes and talked to a man with a microphone. The show was a typical American talk show about the corrupted world of love. The crying woman was telling the story of how her husband cheated on her with her best friend. The man with the microphone tried to comfort her, but all seemed hopeless. Although some of the words were vague and completely unclear to the little boy, he caught every other word. The words contradicted everything he had been absorbing in his long, four years of life. Barney had always talked so positively of love and friendship and all that makes the world smile; however, this real woman who is not dressed in a Styrofoam costume is preaching about how it has brought her such pain. The little boy did not know what to make of it all. Mommy ran in and turned the television off. “John, I thought you set the parental controls! Our baby boy was just watching Jerry Springer,” said Mommy. She pushed a bunch of buttons, and said, “There, there. You won’t be coming across anymore of that garbage anymore!” However, the little boy was already touched upon the reality of the world outside of the fantasy kids shows. As years passed, the little boy had grown to be a big boy. A boy who was let out into society. With each day of growth, he slowly let go of the standards and lies that the television nursed him on. Although he still knew there was good and love and friendship, he was also aware of the contrasting side which he first witnessed the day the remote controller led him to Jerry Springer. “Mom,” the teenager signaled, “Do you ever find it frustrating to know that you were able to set those parental controls on the television when I was a kid, but you can’t set them all the time? It’s a shame, you know. Too bad you can’t control what I see in real life.”