Scurrilous Cbeebies Theories Ahoy!

Cbeebies kind of dominates the morning at our house. Stan demands it by repeatedly saying ‘Beebies pleeeeease’ almost as soon as he’s downstairs and we’re happy to oblige so we can get on with getting ready. This is possibly the worst kind of parenting, but at least Cbeebies is wholesome and advert-free. One does, however, become strangely fascinated by the chirpy rollcall of presenters – Pui, Chris, Sid, Andy, Boogie Pete and Justin – who must spend every blighted day pretending to be both enthusiastic and mentally subnormal. They’re a regular topic of conversation in our house, spawning a wide range of frankly scurrilous theories about them. These include:

1. As Chris sings the good night song he looks so pained around the eyes as he smiles. Could it be that a sadistic director is twisting his testicles and pointing a gun at his family with the explicit threat that he doesn’t keep smiling despite the pain the bollocks will come off and his folks will be executed?
2. Did the same sadistic director take ‘the gang’ out to film the summer song segment on the coldest, greyest day of the year, so they got pneumonia by splashing each other in the sea, then added some unconvincing lens flare and filters in post-production to make it look like it wasn’t actually buttock-shatteringly freezing?
3. Has Pui (formerly the actor inside the Po suit on Tellytubbies) had a nosejob and is she getting it on with Chris? Was it HER twisting his melons after she caught him fluffing Sid in the men’s toilets?
4. Is Andy really so simple that he can’t tell whether you use pliers, a screwdriver or a hammer to bang in a nail?
5. Are the ‘Green Balloon Club gang’ part of a nihilist conspiracy to put us all off conserving the environment? The woman and kids in it are so sickly-sweet and fake that every time I see it I step on a hedgehog’s head and burn a 300m high pile of tyres.

Any Cbeebies theories from other parents out there?

(c) BBC 2008

LazyTown, a Social and Philosophical Tour de Force

When one thinks of ideal communities, the mind wanders back to the immortal treatises in which great men have strived to imagine a harmonious and fair society. There’s Plato’s Republic, Thomas More’s Utopia and, of course, Magnús Scheving’s LazyTown.

LazyTown, unusually for a serious philosophical work, is aired twice a day on CBeebies and features a number of puppets. It is set in the fictional village of LazyTown, governed by the bumbling but benign Mayor Milford Meanswell. The mayor is one of only two adult citizens, the other being his unrequited love Bessie Busybody. All the other citizens are children with various stereotypical faults – Ziggy is addicted to sweets, Trixie is a trickster and Stingy is stingy (you get the point). It’s obvious that Scheving is setting up a subtle Swiftean satire through this device. Especially when the plot introduces forces of good and evil into the children’s world.

On the side of good are pink-garbed Stephanie, the Mayor’s active and well-meaning niece, and Sportacus, the town’s athletic self-appointed guardian who lives a monastic lifestyle in an airship.

The force of evil is represented by Robbie Rotten, the idle, Machiavellian schemer who lives under the LazyTown in some form of nether-house.

One can perceive the influence of the Christian mythos in the dialectic of good coming from above and evil below. Like Milton’s Satan declaring war on Heaven, Robbie repeatedly seeks to overthrow Sportacus and enforce his order upon the universe. However, he is frequently undermined by his own failings as much as Sportacus’ intervention.

Perhaps in a nod to Manichaean dualism, the equilibrium of the LazyTown universe is restored at the end of each episode and Robbie is never punished. How this particular policy affects LazyTown society is clear – Robbie repeatedly causes trouble, upsetting the town’s harmony. Does this suggest that society needs evil in order to evolve and have meaning? It’s surprising that the failure to punish crime is never raised as an election issue in Lazy Town’s democratic process. If a custodial sentence is out of the question, perhaps Robbie should at least be tagged?

The other intriguing subtext of LazyTown is that Spartacus’ life is actually entirely empty. Aside from his interactions with the inhabitants of LazyTown, he lives in solitude, trapped in iron routines that would test the sternest ascetic. Does this suggest that pure good is as undesirable as pure evil? Or that the gods only have a point to their existence when they interfere in human affairs? It is these ambiguities that keep me returning to LazyTown morning after morning, like a pilgrim seeking spiritual revelation in a candy-coloured world.

Sportacus: symbolises the facile nature of pure good