Jeremy Eaton
What's the matter with kids today? Nowadays it seems like you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a mixed-up teen listening to crazy rap music or playing with his Pokey-man cards! What ever happened to the simple pleasures of youth I experienced as a teen? Such as cigarettes, unprotected sexual intercourse, and drinking ass-flavored wine at the quarry until I eventually blacked out and fell off a cliff? It's a goddamn shame, I tell you!

And even worse than these sissy teens are their permissive, pussy parents! "Oh, goodness gracious me," they bellyache. "My son has been caught giving nickel handjobs to sailors down at the pier! WHERE DID I GO WRONG?" I'll tell you where you went wrong! Not telling your kid that a good handjob is worth at least five bucks--THAT'S where you went wrong!!

Another problem is that parents today are too lax when it comes to corporal punishment. Once, when I shoplifted a nudie magazine from the 7-Eleven, not only did my pop use his belt to tie a fire to my ass--I was forced to get a job at that same 7-Eleven in order to pay off my thievery and purchase my dad a case of Schlitz Malt Liquor. AND I WAS 29 YEARS OLD!!

Nowadays, instead of taking kids behind the woodshed, these parents simply push their problems off on someone else--a situation woefully demonstrated in the new reality show Brat Camp (ABC, Wed, July 13, 8 pm). This series takes nine "out-of-control teenagers" and ships them off to deepest, darkest Oregon to participate in a "wilderness program." (What's a "wilderness program"? It's like Deliverance, except without sexy Burt Reynolds, and with twice the pig squealing.)

There they are forced to endure grueling hikes with full packs, physically taxing chores, and militaristic camp counselors--all without a single smidgen of dope, premarital sex, or sass talk. The kids must learn to get along without their families and friends, and directly confront the so-called problems that got them kicked out in the first place. Take for example Lauren, a former straight-A student who has fallen prey to the demon MARIJUANA. Or Jada, who in very atypical teen fashion "throws parties and experiments with sex, drugs, and alcohol." Or Frank, who has "anger management issues" and was suspended from school for "arguing with a teacher." In fact, all nine kids have similar "problems" (which barely sound like problems at all) including hyperactivity, listening to punk rock music, dirty talk, and perhaps most horribly of all, LYING TO THEIR PARENTS. Jesus! I still lie to my parents, and they're DEAD!

So if you ask me, Brat Camp is just another stupid show for middle-class boo-hooers who refuse to take any responsibility for being crappy parents. Don't like teenage shenanigans? Then for the love of God, leave your uterus at the door. Sure, I may not know a lot about parenting, but I do know this: If my pop had been assigned to create a show about dealing with troublesome teens, it wouldn't be called Brat Camp--it'd be called Where's My Goddamn Belt?