layers of idiots

A few weeks ago Hubby got to come with G, Little Missy, Baby Chickadee and I to the Bugs Bunny Club.  It was his only BBC of the year, poor guy.  He enjoys the kids being crazy and dancing to the music as much as I do.

Then the movie started.  It had good animation, lots of interesting actors as the voices of the characters, and we wondered why it hadn’t been promoted more because we’d never heard of it.  Barnyard, anyone?  Had any of you heard of it?

Here’s why most of you haven’t: It’s about a cow whose father dies so he must take over the leadership role at the farm.  Do you get what I just said?  A COW, a HE, must take over the role.  I guarantee Chrissa and my in-laws are cracking up right now.  My parents and sister are laughing, too, but they’re laughing for the second time because I told them this story before.

We’ve talked about this before.  Webster’s says it’s okay to call a field full of cows “cows,” even if there are heifers and steers and bulls among them.  “Cow” is a good generic term for a bovine from whom we get milk and sometimes meat.

But this was no generic cow.  No, the cow from Barnyard had udders.  UDDERS, PEOPLE.  WHAT COWS USE TO FEED THEIR YOUNG.  How many layers of people did this movie go through before someone thought that  maybe a male shouldn’t have udders?  The idiot screenwriters for one, but then the animators, producers, on and on and on and nobody stopped and thought, “Hey, why does this male have teats?”

Even if you were raised in the city and not around animals you should know that male bovines do not nurse their young.  That’s actually a common trait among nearly EVERY SINGLE SPECIES.

I think they must have screened this movie somewhere outside of Los Angeles and the audience howled with laughter, then all those associated with it hung their heads and wisely shelved the movie without promoting it to the masses.  Hubby and I certainly howled with laughter when we watched it.  Especially at the end when the lead “cow” is holding his newborn baby in his arms, the baby sweetly looking up at him with udders in the air, when someone in the background yells, “It’s a boy!”  Friends, udders are not what makes a boy.

Layers and LAYERS of idiots, I tell you.