Breaking News: Too much “Spongebob Squarepants” is bad for your kids. Yes, it’s true. The professionals have proven this.

Angeline Lillard and Jennifer Peterson from the University of Virginia’s department of psychology wanted to see “whether a fast paced television show immediately influences preschool-aged children’s executive function (eg. self-regulation, working memory).” The children who chose to watch “SpongeBob” instead of “Caillou” (a slow-paced cartoon on PBS meant for preschoolers) or drawing, performed poorly on tests, which included puzzles and counting backwards.

Of course Nickelodeon responded, and I agree with them. Why would these women choose “SpongeBob?” SpongeBob is not meant for preschoolers and therefore it’s not an appropriate show to use for a test. Plus the kids only saw nine minutes of the program. Shouldn’t they watch the entire episode? The researchers also polled the parents before and asked if their kids had a normal attention span. The Nickelodeon executive raises a good point when she wonders why any parent would admit their child doesn’t have a normal attention span. Honestly, I think I’d lie about that too.

Remember my post on “Sesame Street?” What’s the best way to push an agenda? CHILDREN. After all, how can you possibly argue when children are in danger? Dr. Dimitri Christakis says this study gives credence to the idea that media exposure is a public health issue. No, Doctor. Polio is a public health issue. Not “SpongeBob SquarePants.”

Guess what, Parents? Hollywood is NOT responsible for the children. YOU are responsible for your children. Have parents lost all their common sense when it comes to knowing what their children should watch? It seems as though too many adults have to be held by the hand when it comes to politics and being a parent. The media certainly doesn’t help by frantically covering studies like this. I decided to Google this study and found it reported in many outlets, including Forbes, where the woman writing the story said that news like this worries her. Really? A study that says too much TV for your preschooler is bad for them worries you? If you need a study to tell you too much TV is bad for your children, you are an idiot.

This kid loves to color. Maybe coloring leads to short attention spans?

I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of Hollywood being blamed for everything wrong with people — especially children. Can Hollywood be harmful or too influential? Yes, but they shouldn’t be held responsible. It’s incredibly simple: watch TV suited to your child’s age. Put a limit to it. Moderation is key.

Take responsibility for your kid. Stop blaming Hollywood.

Instead, the Wikileaks revelations and the pathetic aftermath demonstrate that far from being the omnipotent cadre of high-tech avengers, our leaders have apparently been reduced to hoping that the Swedes’ bizarre sex crime laws will do the dirty work for us.  Capping this twerp might be a bit harsh, but it’s not unreasonable to expect that we be able to come up with some better options for dealing with Wikileaks than cancelling his credit cards and leaving the rest up to Sven and Inga.

For decades, Hollywood has depicted the US intelligence establishment as some sort of all-seeing, all-powerful collection of high-tech killers in expensive suits hunting down those who interfere with America’s imperialist designs.  Hollywood has pushed the notion that our government officials are able to implement conspiracies of such ridiculous scope and audacity that they would embarrass a Truther – well, maybe not Hollywood Truther Charlie Sheen, who apparently doesn’t possess a shame gene.  And the lefties seem to buy that image –a preeminent lefty sight has revealed that the Swedish sex charges were trumped up by a Uppsula University feminist gender equity officer in cahoots with Cuban freedom fighters and the CIA.  The role of the Trilateral Commission is left unclear.

We wish we could pull that off!  In reality, instead of weaving exquisite tapestries of deception or launching waves of vicious kill-bots, we have an Attorney General whose Plan A was offering a searing condemnation of Wikileaks as “arrogant, misguided and ultimately not helpful.”  Wikileaks is “unhelpful” – shockingly, this harsh language somehow failed to deter Julian and Co.  After that smashing success, the AG has initiated Plan B and is promising to possibly consider perhaps contemplating maybe reviewing a number of options designed to somehow do something of some sort.  That is, if he’s not still preoccupied springing some New Black Panthers or failing to convince FIFA not to hold its 2022 shindigg in Qatar.  Figuring out how to lose sponsoring a soccer tournament expecting thousands of Brit, German, French and Italian fans/hooligans to a part of the world that frowns on alcohol probably took all of his attention. 

Where was the ruthlessly effective CIA the movies have been showing us since the 70’s when Assange was tossing around SECRET cables like confetti on New Years?  It’s odd that instead of having his butt get Three Days of the Condor’ed, homeboy was off savoring the acclaim of every commie, lefty and pinko with an ISP until he got jammed up by the bobbies for violating Stockholm sex ordinances that sound like they were formulated by the Feminist Womym’s Collective of Antioch College. 

Where the heck are the hard-bitten hit men of the Bourne flicks?  How about the steely-eyed De Niro of Ronin?  Instead, we’ve unleashed the awesome power of SpongeBob SquarePants.

Now, the Wikileak’d stuff is embarrassing, but we’ll live.  It’s no real revelation that the potentates of the Middle East are soiling their thobes over the notion of a Persian Bomb, and the insight that North Korea is making mischief is about as newsworthy as a Lindsay Lohan relapse.  The guy who stole the stuff while pretending to listen to Lady Gaga – you would think that a soldier cranking such unambitious, derivative crap would have drawn some attention by security officers and/or people with musical taste – will spend about the next half century sitting in Leavenworth reminiscing about his 15 minutes of fame back in ’10, assuming he’s found guilty.  The flaws that led to him getting access to all those documents will be fixed.

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Moreover, the documents tend to show that American diplomats are actually doing their job, gathering information, analyzing current events in their areas of responsibility, and reporting them up the chain.  These are good things.  The Wikileakers and their moronic supporters are “stunned” by the “hypocrisy” of our emissaries saying one thing in public and other things privately.  What a shock – our diplomats are actually diplomatic.  If there is anything positive about this mess, it’s that it puts the spotlight on Americans who do the tough job handling our foreign relations, and who often do it without any recognition. 

Oh, wait, our diplomats and our intelligence folks do get recognized by one bunch – the Hollywood crowd that paints them as cowards, connivers, murderers or worse (unless they are Valerie Plame, of course).  The only thing that Hollywood enjoys vilifying more than a Christian or an employer is an American government official who actually tries to defend and protect our country.  While Hollywood’s vision of America’s activities around the world are orders of magnitude more exciting than the mundane reality of the Wikileaks disclosures, at heart Hollywood and Assange share the same contempt for our country and those who serve it.

The fact that Julian Assange can sleep soundly in his cell knowing to a certainty that he’ll see the next dawn is a tribute both to the fact that he didn’t choose to screw with the Israelis – who don’t take his kind of crap – and to the fact that America’s defenders are nothing like the brutal clowns Hollywood loves to portray.  If they were, Julian Assange wouldn’t be headed back to Sweden but to a shallow grave somewhere – in little pieces.

Look at his life. Borgnine was born to Italian immigrant parents in 1917, spent 10 years in the Navy, including all of World War II, then bummed around as a second string character actor for another decade before snagging an Oscar in his first major role. The closest thing to life experience one of today’s stars has is a three week stint at $5,000-a-day rehab resort getting seaweed facials and talking about how his daddy never told him he loved him during group therapy while secretly gobbling the vicodins he smuggled in inside the liner of his Louis Vuitton cosmetics case.

You want retro cool? Forget posers like George Clooney and his pathetic attempts to relive the Old School dream with his Ocean movies, skinny ties and succession of cocktail waitress girlfriends. Ernest Borgnine is a 33rd Scottish Rite Mason, was in From Here to Eternity with Frank Sinatra, and was married to Ethel Merman. He married Ethel Merman! Try and top that for retro cool, George. Borgnine not only founded the Old School but is a Professor Emeritus.

What are his politics? Who knows? While his most recent political contribution was to George W. Bush in 2004, Borgnine comes from a time when actors concentrated on acting. He is very active in supporting Navy veterans, but you won’t hear him spouting off about his specific views. He’s a generic patriot – there’s probably a yellow ribbon on the back of his Caddy (you just know he drives a Cadillac) and anyone he sees messing with the flag can probably expect to feel one of those meaty Borgnine paws hard across his pie hole.

But can he act? Hell yes. There is that aforementioned Academy Award for 1955’s Marty. Marty is the heartbreaking story of a homely 30-ish meat cutter and his delicate romance with a plain-Jane schoolteacher. Borgnine is fearless as Marty, lashing out at his own looks and his inability to connect with women in a way no modern star ever could or would. It is a brave performance in a way you simply do not see today, and a performance that is a credit to both Borgnine’s talent and lack of ego.

Marty is about real people and real love, but if it were remade today – and lacking either vampires or a graphic novel pedigree it never would be – you can just imagine the Hollywood weasels’ notes:

Instead of this lonely butcher thing, which is a downer, how about making Marty a swinging TV reporter looking for The One?…And can we rename him Gavin? And let’s make the girl a model – is Kate Hudson busy? We’ll need a non-threatening gay friend for her. And let’s get Gerard Butler as Marty, I mean Gavin. Awesome. I think these changes are really going to test well.

Borgnine’s ten minute supporting role as the general who gives Lee Marvin his suicide mission at the beginning of The Dirty Dozen is like a master’s class in acting. In just a few minutes, he shifts from deadly serious to comic and back while holding his own against arguably the toughest guy ever on screen. Watch his face and his expressions and reactions, then compare his technique to that of today’s actors, whose “performances” seem to consist largely of them standing there staring vacuously and radiating their unnatural beauty. No contest.

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Ernest Borgnine has been in classic Westerns like The Wild Bunch and Bad Day at Black Rock, got capsized in the original Poseidon Adventure and even showed up on SpongeBob SquarePants. Sometimes he was a maybe bit too versatile – this Italian-American portrayed “Ragnar” in The Vikings. Still, he epitomizes the concept of the working actor, with roles ranging from big budget films to parts in what only one grading on a generous curve would label as B movies. He’s had several TV series and a ton of guest shots, including a part in the finale of ER and a memorable appearance in a classic episode of The Simpsons. And if you check out his IMDB site, you’ll find over 200 entries and see that he has three more movies coming out. The dude is 92!

You can have the soulless, polished Berluti loafers that are the stars of today – I’ll take the scuffed character of the old bowling shoes reeking of spilled Budweiser and the feet of a hundred guys with names like Sal and Bob that is Ernest Borgnine.