He loves reading Trash.

One of the saddest things about getting older is watching the things we valued in childhood lose their luster under the revealing light of time. Take for example Sesame Street's Count. Most of us probably remember him as a plushy vampire with a numbers fixation and not as any sort of threat. We couldn't have been further from the truth.

I don't remember the following song but the editing necessary makes it clear the Count was one foul-mouthed little puppet.



It wasn't consigned to just that segment. He involved the children visiting the show in his nasty little exercises.



Sigh.

C is for cookie and that's good enough for me!

It occurs to me that part of the reason it often feels that when we engage the other side in debate that we're arguing with a bratty, spoiled, five-year old child throwing a tantrum while holding his hands over his ears is because we are (pdf doc).