Column: Chew On This; The following have been disallowed
Light travels faster than sound, which is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
With that said, I officially proclaim abstinence in my household from all episodes of the new hit television game show, “Deal or No Deal.”
Similar to an old theory describing “The Price is Right,” I am fully convinced that the casting process for this new show involves acquiring contestants possessing lower intelligence quotients than a herd of chinchillas.
Led by star celebrity, Howie “Mr. Clean” Mandel, contestants on the game show have a chance to pick their way to winning one million dollars. The task is so easy that a proficient monkey could perform it.
But what gives the contestants a particularly difficult time is having to endure the presence of several relatives.
When I’m having a tough time, normally I look to my relatives for support and advice. But that’s everyday life.
When relatives are suddenly unleashed on television, they unknowingly expel some hidden gene, classified scientifically in Latin as relativus stupidus, which translates into American as, “I’ve never met them in my life.”
But it’s not just the relatives that look dumb. wBy some sort of pervasive virus, stupid symptoms spread and the contestant becomes afflicted with the popular deer-in-headlights expression.
Shortly thereafter, any attempt at making a logical thought deteriorates the brain into a curious mush.
Similar results can also be experienced by listening to country music.
Bless their hearts, relatives show up to try and help – you know – by making blatantly obvious suggestions, revealing childhood secrets, and gathering hype.
But like I said, it all ends up in mush.
I only have one suggestion for those who find themselves on game show television. Find some people that only speak Swahili to claim as relatives. This will allow you to fully concentrate on the task at hand.
It will also allow you to have a pleasant “Lion King” themed sing-along after the show.
While I’m at it, there are a few other things that I feel the need to officially ban from my household. Here’s the working list:
Pickles. I don’t think I really need to defend my position on this one. I mean… EW!
Odd women’s clothing. Those funky poncho sweaters are banned. Those jackets that are only half of a jacket (basically like buying a pair of fancy sleeves) are banned. Distressed jeans are banned. If you’re paying someone to shorten the life of your clothing with holes, then you too are banned.
Ugly dogs. The Shih-Tzu and Maltese immediately come to mind. Any dog with hair that drags on the ground as they walk is forbidden in my home. The Afghan hound is a good example. I can’t believe that out of all the varieties of dogs available for cloning, those scientists decided this world needed another Afghan hound.
Form 1040. I really miss the old days of 1040EZ, but then again, I finally have a chance to deduct pants as a business expense.
President Bush. Among other failures, for perpetual failure to pronounce “nuclear” correctly during his more than five years in office, dubya, please stay out.
By the way, I am also fully convinced that the casting process for the American presidency involves acquiring contestants possessing lower intelligence quotients than a herd of chinchillas.
Chinchillas, however, are allowed in my house.
Garrett Wheeler is a second bachelor’s student in technical theatre design. Send any comments or questions to wheel@cc.usu.edu.