This story may be archived by the Cascade Library.
Author's note: Someone on a list I'm on said that she couldn't see Jim being a Simpsons fan. That got me thinking...
Rated G.
Simpsonian Ruminations
by Helen W.
November/December, 1990
"You never come back to the same country," someone had told Jim Ellison when he'd headed down to Peru in '86. "Yeah, whatever," he'd thought at the time. It's not like he'd ever swam much in the cultural mainstream. He'd catch blockbusters when convenient, but in general he preferred to spend what little leisure time his schedule permitted working out or reading or taking on the occasional volunteer gig, like his stint as a Big Brother to Danny Choi back in college.
Sure, the U.S. was bound to have changed a little in four years. There was a different president, of course. The country was prepping for war to get Saddam Hussein's Iraqi troops out of Kuwait, which had to be affecting the U.S. some. Heading back to the U.S. finally after being formally discharged and knocking about the Pacific a bit, Jim knew these were the facts on the ground.
He'd never expected that he'd be returning to the United States of Bart Simpson.
He first encountered the conical, jagged-topped edifice at Cascade International Airport. As far as he could tell, every boy there under sixteen was wearing a t-shirt bearing some version of Bart. Danny, all grown up now at 18 and ready to drive Jim wherever he wanted to go, tried to explain: "He's a cartoon character. Don't worry about it. You'd hate 'The Simpsons'."
Black Bart. Bart saying "Eat my shorts." Bart wearing a Starfleet uniform and saying "Live long, and eat my phaser, dude."
Yeah, he'd hate 'The Simpsons.'
But, while it was easy enough to avoid watching the weekly show, it was impossible to get away from the darn t-shirts, or the guys with pointy hair talking about the darn t-shirts, especially since he wasn't working and the TV found itself on more than it should have.
Bart Simpson was a horrible influence, they all said. He was ruining the youth of America. He was turning ten-year-olds into communist atheists who didn't do their homework or eat their broccoli.
"Actually, he's kinda cool," said Danny a few weeks later as they shared a near-beer at Jim's place during Christmas break. "There's religion, there's sticking together as a family, there's some pretty interesting social commentary. Only trouble is, chicks HATE the t-shirts."
"Let's hear it for chicks, then," said Jim.
So Jim decided to check the show out. It was friggin' hilarious. It was the best-written thing Jim had seen since getting back.
He fantasized about drawing up a "Jungle Bart" t-shirt. "Eat my foreign policy, dude!" a camo-clad Bart would snarl.
In a few weeks, the U.S. was going to be at war. How many kids out there in the desert were wearing Bart Simpson t-shirts under their fatigues? The officer corps was probably having a fit, but any attention the message of Bart Simpson was receiving was probably as damaging (and as beneficial) as mess hall grousing. It was pretty safe to have people chanting "Question authority" as long as they did it in unison, on command.
Bart Simpson, tool. It wasn't Bart's fault that people were sheep, though, and that "Jungle Bart" was too real to be funny. Jim was finding he rather liked the guy.
*** The End ***
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