 | Who wants to learn about responsibility?! |
Jiminy Cricket, you are far from your average cricket. You first appeared as Pinocchio's "official" conscience in the eponymous Disney cartoon. You were also the first Disney feature character to “break the fourth wall”, and went on to become Disney's premier emcee, educator, and storyteller, both on film, television and in educational media. And Jiminy, you've been regaling America with your incessant, scolding lectures and high-horse, ivory tower bullshit ever since.
Jiminy Cricket, you condescending bastard. I’ve been putting up with your holier-than-thou attitude for longer than I care to remember, and I’ve taken it upon myself to call you out on behalf of generations of American animation fans. Your non-stop lecturing is tired and pedantic, and nobody wants to hear it anymore. I, for one, have got my own problems without you having to nail me to the cross about it, Jim.
From 1940’s Pinocchio to 1986’s “Jiminy Cricket’s Christmas,” you have dedicated your life to functioning as the animated world’s morality cop and chief martyr. Just because your name comes from a British euphemism for Jesus Christ doesn’t make you Him, bug.
I’ve got several problems with you, sir: First, what kind of a cricket walks around in 1890s formal wear? You might look passable, maybe even cute, in spats and a top hat, Chirps Magee, but that doesn’t make you the Duke of fucking Windsor. If you’re going to lecture me about waiting a half hour after I eat to go swimming or how the Pythagorean Theorem relates to billiards, at least wear some normal clothes, you salad topping. Second, your "Aw, shucks!" affectation is really wearing thin. I don’t know what part of the country your accent is supposed to come from, but your cornpone bullshit isn’t fooling anybody, you insect. I’d pay a lot more attention to your finger wagging if you spoke like an educated cricket and not some hayseed... eating member of the locust family. Finally, enough with the magic tricks. I know that as a cricket you don’t have a lot of mass, but don’t expect me to believe that you can use a fucking umbrella as a parachute. Where are you even falling from? You’re a goddamned cricket! Hop on the scene, man. Don’t re-enact the HALO drop from Navy S.E.A.L.S. If I wanted Michael Biehn to come hang out in my living room, I’d go down to the Greyhound station and give him ten bucks, and he wouldn’t nag me to death about science, and not lying and shit.
And where’s your work ethic, Jiminy? You were in dozens of Disney features, from Pinocchio, to 1960’s “This Is Your Life, Donald Duck,” to 1970’s “I’m No Fool With Electricity.” You were part of no less than thirty shorts or features from The Walt Disney Company, but what have you done for me lately? Michigan J. Frog was in one—ONE—Warner Brothers cartoon in his whole career, and now he’s the goddamned logo of the fucking WB! Where are you? Rock bottom? Well, Danny Bonaduce called; he said to pick up some milk on your way home.
Jiminy, I don’t want to beat this to death, but you are the prime example of why Disney cartoons are so much worse than Warner Brothers’ fare. Take Bugs Bunny, for example. He is my hero. He is a skinny, out-of-shape clown who runs around chasing tail, beating the shit out of people, and viciously humiliating anyone he doesn’t slap across the face or shoot with their own gun. He drinks, he smokes, he gambles, he harbors prejudice and lust and humor and love. Sure, he occasionally kisses men on the lips (Elmer Fudd), but Bugs has a soul! Now look at you. What do you do besides instill kids with your stultifying, bourgeoisie morality and teach geometry lessons? Nothing, cricket. Not a damn thing.
Jiminy, do us all a favor: Next time you’re rubbing your little cricket legs together to keep me awake at night, rub a little harder, slit your wrists, and put yourself out of your misery.
There, I've said my piece.
 | Jiminy walking to Boringtown. |
Stop crying...
Okay, I may have gone a little too far that time. Jiminy? I—I—I’m sorry, Jim.
What? Well, no I guess I wouldn’t like it if someone talked to me like that, but... well... yeah, but... I know...
I know, I just...
You’re right Jiminy, I’m sorry. Words can hurt. I’m never going to write a scathing attack on anyone again. Everyone has feelings, and I should respect them, and follow the Golden Rule: Treat others as you would like them to treat you. You’re right. Thanks, Jiminy!
Just kidding. Eat shit, Cricket, we all hate you.
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