Glee: Singing, Dancing, Shark-Jumping

When it comes to Glee, my now teen daughter and I were early adopters.

Actually, one of the art directors I work with was even more ahead of the curve (in Glee's case, once it hit, it wasn't so much a curve as a wave or really a tsunami). He saw the pilot months before the series premiered. He predicted that we'd love it.

He was right.

The old Glee was so fresh, so different, so wrong in all the right ways. It was irreverent and offensive. One of the things I always appreciated was that none of the kids was all good — or all bad, for that matter. Whether it was the queen bee cheerleader or the dumb jock or the awkward overachiever, the juvenile delinquent, the gay kid just coming out or the disabled guy — what was really cool was that they were so obviously stereotypes that then broke their own stereotypes. They were lovable but not very nice. They could be downright cruel to each other. They were utterly self-absorbed.

Basically, they were teenagers.

And then, of course, like millions of other former drama majors, how could I resist the sheer talent served up on my television every week? Glee made it cool to sing and dance.  Back in 2010, CNN reported that a Harris poll had determined  31% more students were interested in school music activities because of the show. Whether you're a gleek or not, you have to admit that the series had a positive effect on kids' interest in the arts.

Of course, there were sour notes over the years and more this year than any other. The Becky character, a McKinley High student with Down syndrome, has become particularly uncomfortable to watch. For some reason, she now says whatever's on her mind, full voice, and what's always on her mind is SEX. It's as though she's developed some cinematic version of Tourette's. I don't know if the producers are trying to breakdown a myth that mentally handicapped people are childlike. But, the adult content coming out of her mouth just makes her unattractive — whether she's living with a disability or not.

After investing in a rash of new kids when half the show choir graduated, Glee has suddenly abandoned them. When Kurt moved to New York, the show didn't just replace him with another gay kid; they went all out with a teen transvestite. The "Unique" (née Wade) story was interesting for an episode or maybe two. The writers don't seem to know what to do with her (him) now. 

Breaking Glee's tradition of multifaceted characters, Riley or Miley or Marley (it's telling that I can't  even remember her name) is one-dimensionally nice. She flirted with an eating disorder and broke up with a boyfriend. Compare this to the over-the-top adventures of the original kids and you're in for a letdown. The last few episodes, all she's done is sway in the background. And, you know, we don't really miss her.

The New York storyline is more fun (maybe because it features the strongest characters from the original seasons). But even in the Big Apple, certain plot twists have taken utterly unbelievable to a whole new level. Rachel has beaten the odds (trust me, the odds were astronomically against her) and landed the lead in a revival of Funny Girl. Her aspiring actress/waitress/rival roommate walks in off the street and wins the role of Fanny Brice's understudy.

I come from a theatrical family. Trust me. This would not, could not ever happen. Never. Never. Never. Santana would not have been permitted in the building, much less be allowed to march down that aisle singing "Don't Rain on My Parade." Never. Never. Never.

Clue phone, it's for you. Broadway shows do not cast walk-in nobodies from Lima, Ohio. Sorry.

And, even if you suspend all belief and buy the whole high school frenemies become cut-throat theatre rivals plot, it brought a really ugly edge to the show. Even when the glee club kids were at their nastiest, they always stood up for each other when it mattered. In the few episodes before Santana resigned (yeah, like that's believable too), the feud between Rachel and Santana felt inappropriately vicious.

Glee has changed certainly. Several elements of the show wrapped up last week: there was a rushed graduation, the school finally (really) cut the New Directions program, Will and Emma are having a baby and I think he's leaving McKinley. We've officially transitioned from Ohio to the Empire State. Now, with a tight group of original cast members making their way in New York City, Glee is beginning to feel like Friends — potential criticism that the creators headed off at the pass by giving Tina a recent dream sequence about it.

So with all of this bitchin' and moanin', why do we still watch?

I can't speak for the teenager. But, for me, this is one of our few old mother-daughter traditions that hasn't fallen by the wayside quite yet. Those wacky gleeks can sing and dance (and jump sharks) as long as they like. As long as my daughter is willing to sit through it all with me, I'll be there.

If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.   

Tears of "Glee"

This morning, my teenage daughter informed me that her cold is back because she cried so much last night. A quick Google search assured me that no, crying cannot actually cause a cold. Sorry. 

But, my daughter is convinced.

I myself do not have a cold, but I did indulge in my share of tears last night as well. 

My daughter and I watched "The Quarterback," a tribute to Cory Monteith, also known as Finn Hudson, on Glee.

The series' critics have long denounced the show for its sentimentality, and — too often, too preachy — overall schmaltziness. In its four years, we've dealt with teen pregnancy, teen suicide, gay bashing, disabilities, alcohol abuse, domestic violence, religion ... the list goes on and on. Big topics, big musical numbers. Interestingly, the show never really tackled drug addiction. When I heard that Glee would dedicate its third episode to the memory of Cory Monteith, who died of an accidental heroin overdose this summer, I assumed that they would finally do so.

But, surprisingly, Glee's creators decided not to address it. At all. In fact, in a quiet voiceover at the very start of the tribute episode, Chris Colfer, as Finn's stepbrother Kurt, explained that it had been a month since his death and that people kept asking how he'd died. But, Kurt asserted that it didn't matter. The focus, instead, would be on how he'd lived.

On the one hand, this seemed a little too open-ended. A major character, arguably one of the most major characters, of the show was being killed off (not by choice, I know, but still ...) and the audience would understandably have questions. On the other hand (and when it comes to Glee, I often defer to that other more forgiving hand), it was a no-win situation for the writers. If Finn died of anything other than a result of his heroin addiction (leukemia, say, or a car accident), it would have felt false. But, Finn would never (never, never, in a million years, never) have experimented with heroin. That's one of the things we loved about him. He made it hip to be square.

So, within the first thirty seconds, Kurt warned us that our questions would go unanswered. From there, we moved into the first group number, "Seasons of Love" from the Broadway hit Rent.


525,600 minutes, 
525,000 moments so dear. 
525,600 minutes — how do you measure, 
measure a year? 

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. 
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. 
In 525,600 minutes — how do you measure 
a year in the life?


How about love? 
How about love? 
How about love? 
Measure in love. Seasons of love.


Love. Right. Love Glee or hate Glee (and I have friends in both camps, as well as friends who loved it then and hate it now), you have to hand it to them. For the past four years, the Glee team has rarely hit a false note when it comes to choosing songs. The stakes were higher last night, but the soundtrack was perfect.

Another smart move was to focus on the show's veterans. Sure, the freshmen members of New Directions (a veritable slew of youth and talent introduced last year) are largely likable, but Finn's death, Finn's story, isn't their story. Instead, we heard Mercedes sing "I'll Stand By You" (Chrissie Hynde's anthem, originally featured in year one when Finn sang to his assumed baby daughter's sonogram). Sam and Artie sang James Taylor's "Fire and Rain." Santana tried to get through "If I Die Young," and Puck defiantly asserted Springsteen's "No Surrender."

There wasn't a dry eye in the house. Especially not in ours.

Then, at last, there was Lea Michele. There was no question that the entire cast (and crew, no doubt) were going through a strange and terribly painful collision of personal and public grief. But, Michele's situation had to have been the most extreme. Monteith's real-life girlfriend, Michele stood and sang "Make You Feel My Love," openly weeping. It was a scene worthy of an Emmy Award, although rewarding her incredible acting might somehow negate the incredible reality that she wasn't actually acting at all. What a brave girl she is. And what better way could she honor her loss than by exposing herself and her unfathomable pain like she did? I hope she can heal. I hope she can be happy. She deserves it.

It's tempting to criticize an inflated sense of self-importance built into Glee's tribute episode. "We know how important Glee is to you," the creators are saying. "We know you're mourning the loss of our star. We'll guide you through that. We'll show you how it's done."

But, it's hard to criticize something that came out of so much genuine love and was executed with so much respect and thought and skill and talent. The sheer talent Glee puts on the TV screen each week remains for me a thing of wonder and awe.

As my daughter's renewed cold attests, "The Quarterback" was pitch perfect.

If you enjoyed this post, order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.

R.I.P. Finn Hudson

The other morning, I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning, stressing out about work and I finally figured that it would be better to get up and get some of that work done. So, I went to my office and turned on my computer. As per usual, I went to Facebook. The first thing that came up in my newsfeed was a post about Cory Monteith. He had been found dead in a hotel room in Canada. He was 31.

"No," I quietly said. But, I knew it was true. And, sadly, it wasn't really that unusual. Promising young Hollywood star, history of drug abuse. I didn't know him personally. I didn't even know much about his personal life. But, it made me so sad.

Because he was Finn Hudson.

My now teenage daughter and I were Glee fans (or "gleeks") since the beginning. Not only did we follow the show religiously, but we bought all the music and went to see the cast perform live, twice — once at Radio City Music Hall and again at the Boston Garden (oh, sorry, the TD Bank North Garden, or whatever it's now called). Together, we cheered (and sometimes cringed) as McKinley High's "New Directions" show choir beat the odds to become national champions. They were a motley crew of misfits, enormously talented, embarrassingly adolescent. It was impossible not to root for them.

Monteith's character, Finn, was the star quarterback, handsome, cool, dating the head cheerleader. At the same time, he was a bit of a dim bulb (okay, a very dim bulb) and ... well, to be honest ... a big doofus. He wasn't perfect; he slipped up sometimes. In a couple of Glee's preachier scenes, he used the words "faggy" and "retarded." At one point, he thought he saw Christ's image on some toasted bread and spent the better part of an episode praying to "Grilled Cheesus."

But, flawed as he was, Finn was the moral compass of the group. He really tried to figure out the right thing to do and then do it. And, when he finally (barely) graduated from McKinley and chose to go into the army, it was one of the show's truest notes. This idealistic boy really would have done that. His decision was all the more poignant because the smarter, fairly liberal audience knew what real life in the military might do to him.

Monteith was older than the other actors playing high school students on Glee. He didn't have much professional experience when he was cast. And, he was arguably the weakest link in terms of vocal ability. But, he was pitch perfect as Finn. You really believed in this earnest young man. You really wanted the world to be a better place for him.

The only things I knew about the actor were that he was from Canada, that he was dating his co-star Lea Michele, and that he had struggled with drug addiction since he was thirteen. 

Thirteen.

After dropping out of high school, Monteith worked odd jobs and continued to have substance abuse issues until he finally ended up in Hollywood. Landing the role of Finn was a fluke — he didn't sing or dance, and for his audition tape, he did a drum solo on an odd lot of Tupperware containers. But, Glee's creative team saw something in him. And soon 7.5 million fans did as well.

In interviews, Monteith always stressed that he was not Finn. He was open about his past and last Spring, when he checked into rehab (not for the first time), he was very public about it.

"If I can, through my experience, shed light on the way out of a difficult situation, that I know many kids are experiencing, just like I did when I was a teenager, that's, that's huge."

I don't know ... he sounds a lot like Finn to me.

While my daughter and I are both sorry about Monteith's untimely death, I think I'm more so. My daughter has started to outgrow Glee. And maybe 31 doesn't seem so young to her. It seems awfully young to me.

Cory Monteith's real-life was not a sit-com or a musical. And, now, sadly, we know it didn't have a happy ending.

Good-night, sweet prince. Don't stop believing.

Pass the Popcorn: Pitch Perfect

On Sunday, my teen daughter was supposed to compete in an equestrian event called a Hunter Trial. This meant that we would spend most of the day out in the fields, trying to catch a glimpse of her riding through the woods. I'm not complaining, really. This is how we spend pretty much every weekend.

And, then something happened. It rained.

A quick text from the show's organizer and we had a whole unexpected free day in front of us. Hooray.

After my daughter got over her initial disappointment, she settled in on the couch to watch one of her favorite shows on our iPad. The idea of her wasting an entire day got to me. So, I suggested I take her and some friends to the movies.

Now before you tell me that I simply traded one screen for another, let me explain. Meeting friends, actually traveling to a theatre (in our case, that's about 25 minutes in the car), shopping for junk food, gossiping before the movie, comparing notes after ... I think it's a much more active afternoon than simply staring at video on a tablet. Should I have suggested a museum instead? Probably. But, somehow I don't think that would have been met with much enthusiasm.

Anyway, the movie I suggested was Pitch Perfect. A BFF had already seen it and said it was great. Apparently, it was about a girls' singing group and the teasers we had seen looked funny. It reminded me of an edgier Glee!

Usually, I drive my daughter and her friends to the theatre, then they go to one movie and I go to another. That way, they have their privacy as well as their chauffeur. This time though, the other options were limited. When I warned my daughter that I was going to see Pitch Perfect too, she was less than thrilled. I reassured her that I would sit far away from her and her friends and pretend I didn't know them. This was but a small consolation. However, she didn't have much of a choice.

We arrived early and I went to the box office while the girls raided the discount store Below 5 for candy. Once inside, they headed up into the stadium seating while I settled into a seat in the third row. I have always liked my movies up close and personal.

After too many ads, too many previews and too many warnings about shutting off our cell phones, the film started. As expected, it centered around a college a capella group, called the Barden Belles. With the bulk of their prissy team graduating, they have to recruit an array of misfit singers, who don't really fit the mold. There's a "lezzie" and a "fatty" and a sexpot and an angry edgy girl — all stereotypes, but fun. Eventually they embrace everyone's unique talents and personalities. Of course, they win Nationals. Yay. 

Pitch Perfect was pitch perfectly what I expected except for one technicolor plot element. The leader of the group, a pretty blonde named Aubrey, blows under pressure. I mean, she really blows. As in, blows chunks.

Eeeeeeew!

This charming twist happened not once but twice (three times, actually, if you count an onscreen replay via YouTube). It was as though the movie had miraculously morphed from Glee! into Bridesmaids. Or The Hangover. And, in case the actual vomiting wasn't gross enough (trust me, it was, I think they used baked beans, lots and lots of baked beans), one fairly vacant member of the Belles falls into a pool of puke and proceeds to make a snow angel.

I repeat ... eeeeeeeeew!

Not the sort of girl power movie I was hoping for. (When did chick flicks become upchuck flicks?)

Nevertheless, my girls seemed to enjoy it. On the way home, they gave the movie high marks and relived some of the funnier moments. They agreed that the ending was satisfying — predictable, but satisfying. No one said anything about the you-know-what.

Stomach troubles aside, it was a nice afternoon all around. It will just be a while before I serve baked beans again.

Pass the (Microwave) Popcorn: Glee!

My teen daughter and I are loyal "gleeks." Unlike many critics and fans alike, we have stayed with the show through unnecessary celebrity guests, forced theme episodes and preachy story lines that taught important lessons at the price of entertainment. Let's see, we've learned about teen pregnancy, gay rights, OCD, bullying, mental and physical disabilities, alcohol abuse, domestic violence, teen suicide and not texting while driving (those last two in the same 60-minute show!). Yes, these are important topics. Yes, Glee! is a big popular forum. But, sometimes you just want to enjoy the ups and downs of the characters.

That's what we got this week. Emphasis on the downs rather than ups, I'm afraid. But, it felt like the old Glee! with less gimmicks and more heart.

This is where I warn you that there are spoilers ahead ...

Guys, there are spoilers ahead.

If you haven't seen "The Break-up," and you're planning to (which, btw, my daughter and I both recommend), stop reading. Go to your cable TV's video on demand or online after October 12th, and watch it. Then, come back and read this post.

Fox had promoted this episode heavily. "The Break-Up" promised to revolve around the show's main couples each of whom has merged into a short-hand combo-name: Finn + Rachel = Finchel; Kurt + Blaine = Klaine; Brittany + Santana = Brittana; Will+ Emma = Wemma. "Who will break-up?" the teasers prompted, promising that not all of the relationships would survive in tact.

But, we also assumed that some of the couples would stay together.

The biggest challenge the wildly successful show's creators had this year was to keep us hooked with most of the glee club's members graduating and making their way in the world.  This is often the death knell for shows about high school students. I mean, how long could the sweat hogs really welcome back Mr. Kotter? Two of Glee!'s main characters (and arguably two of its most talented performers) moved to New York. Rachel is studying at the fictitious NYADA, New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, where faculty include a shamanic Whoopi Goldberg and satanic Kate Hudson. Kurt has taken his porcelain features to vogue.com, where (not to be outdone by his former rival, now friend), he is being mentored by Sarah Jessica Parker.

Somehow, the scenes at NYADA, at vogue.com and in their amazing loft work. They don't feel separate from life at McKinley High. They feel like a very natural extension of the talented oddballs we watched grow up.

A quick aside from a native New Yorker though ... I don't care how sketchy the neighborhood is, there is simply no way that two broke student/interns could possible afford that loft. No way. No how. Okay, I'm done.

So, in "The Break-Up," Finn arrives in the city after a brief stint in the army and four months of radio silence. Shortly thereafter, Blaine arrives as well. Although both couples are still in love, they are in different places. Finn doesn't belong in New York with Rachel. Blaine can't handle the long distance between him and Kurt. The acting (and singing — this is Glee! after all) was heartbreaking. And the plot was sadly realistic. How many high school sweethearts actually weather life in the real world? Not too many anymore.

Meanwhile, Santana broke up with Brittany as gently as she could. Through song, naturally. And, Emma decided to let Will go off to Washington while respecting her own mission by not accompanying him. The episode ended with all eight characters onstage as they face their now single futures.

My daughter and I rarely watch TV together anymore. In fact, I can count the shows we share on one hand (and still have more than half the fingers left over). So, while I am very sorry for our favorite characters — I confess I teared up more than once the other night — I'm still very grateful for Glee! 

Why Words Matter

My tween daughter and I are both enthusiastic Facebook users — although I have to confess that after mere months on the site, she is considerably more popular than I am. She has 326 friends to my mere 299. (Not that I'm counting or anything.)

I know there are many people who use Facebook as a forum for their political beliefs. There are also people who relish a heated debate, who actually thrive on confrontation. I typically do not fall into either category. But earlier this week, I stumbled into one of Facebook's pitfalls. I created my own little social media monster.

My intentions were honorable, really. I had seen what I thought was a beautifully rendered and emotionally affecting public service announcement from the Special Olympics and Best Buddies, as part of their "Spread the Word to End the Word" campaign. As a marketer and a mom, I wanted to share it.

If you haven't had an opportunity to see it yet, the spot features a number of people explaining that it's not acceptable to use minority slurs to describe them. The words used are familiar of course but taboo. It's jarring to hear them spoken aloud on video: "nigger," "spic," "chink," "fag," and "kike." Then, the ad moves to the McKinley High music room from Glee, where actors Lauren Potter and Jane Lynch are seated. Potter, who has Down syndrome, explains that "It's not acceptable to call me a retard or call yourself or your friends retarded." Lynch wraps up the spot by explaining that the r-words are the same as any other slur.

When I posted the link, I expected people to watch the spot, to "Like" it and repost it. And, many people did. What I did not expect was to spark a Facebook feud about whether the organizations that created the ad had crossed a line by dictating what words could and could not be used. A friend of mine called it "Censorship" and actually took me to task for agreeing with the ad's message.

Wow.

Another friend jumped in and passionately and eloquently defended the campaign, while a third friend, who happens to be an attorney, entered the fray with a very intelligent history of how minority descriptors evolve over time. The posts and counter posts have continued for three days. And, I don't know that we've gotten any closer to a consensus (or a so-called winner in this debate). But, I think the reaction (maybe overreaction?) has confirmed something important.

Words matter.

Judging other people, insulting them and making friends laugh is standard middle school cafeteria activity. It's nothing new. I was certainly a victim of it in the 70s, and most likely a victimizer at times as well (I hope not often and not too cruelly). We want to teach our tweens (and teens and adults) to be compassionate people. It's a constant struggle in the dog-eat-dog world of middle school lunch and recess though. As a mom, I actively look for ways to talk about social cruelty, discrimination, and verbal bullying. This spot — and the uproar I started — has confirmed for me that the words we choose have great power and consequence.

If a seventh grader thinks another seventh grader is behaving in a particularly dumb way, he might call them "retarded." "You're such a retard!" (or, pronounced here in Massachusetts, "You're such a retahd!") may be meant as a joke. Clearly, it's not funny to someone like Lauren Potter. It's also not humorous to use a word that has historically been used to define a minority group of people as an insult. I have a feeling that the same kid who uses the word to diss his buddy knows better than to use it to insult an intellectually disabled person. So, he may feel that there's no damage done. I disagree.

Any word that objectifies a group — that effectively turns them into less than individual people — is dangerous. It becomes a lot easier to stereotype, deny rights and discriminate against them.

A similar thing happens with the word "gay." Tweens call an outfit, activity or hobby "so gay," in order to insult it, to imply that it's lame. At an age when some kids are beginning to understand that they or someone they care about is homosexual, this just adds to the potential fear, confusion and shame they have to deal with.

A final example strikes closer to home for me and for my daughter. It has disturbed me for years that males use language that describes females as an insult. So, a football coach might criticize his team's performance by calling them "girls." Or, a teenage boy teases his friend by calling him a "Sally." Or, in a fight, a man threatens to make another man his "bitch." As a woman, this thinly veiled misogyny doesn't just make me mad; it frightens me. What does that say about our worth when the worst thing a man can think of to call another man is "woman?"

I believe that the ad I posted is asking tweens (using the actors from Glee is a great way to reach that audience) to think twice about what they say. Words do matter. And more importantly, the way we choose to use words gives them power and affects how we view people who don't look or act or think like we do.

Censorship or anti-defamation? What do you think?

You can watch the spot here.

No "Glee" for Glenn

A good friend once described me as the most liberal person she knows. Well, I don't know about that. But, I do know that I don't usually agree with Glenn Beck.

Actually, let me rephrase that. I never agree with Glenn Beck.

This past Thursday, Beck decided to critique a cultural phenomenon that is near and dear to both my heart and my tween daughter's: the TV show Glee.

He began his rant by decrying the lack of values in our culture and consequently, in our children. "Children aren't tethered to anything," he explained, "So we need to be über vigilant." The example that he gave was Glee. The entire clip from Beck's show is only five minutes long, yet I have a few issues with it. All right, many many many issues with it.

If I'm going to debate Mr. Beck, I'd better establish my credentials. My daughter and I have watched every single Glee episode since it premiered in the Fall of 2009. We watch them in real time; we replay them via DVR or online; we listen to the music; we buy the DVDs when they come out. We're "gleeks" and we're damned proud of it. Let's contrast this with my opponent. Beck told his audience that he's seen the show twice. Wow. The first season comprised 22 episodes. There have been 18 so far in the second season. Some quick math ... Beck has seen 5% of Glee's content.

Yep, he's über qualified to critique it.

Beck describes his experience watching Glee as a combination of "stunned horror" and "admiring awe." He's quick to point out that the show is "brilliant, brilliant." But in his mind, this simply adds to its ability to trash our values and corrupt our youth. Here are a few of his observations ... followed by a few of my own.

"All the characters are extremely good-looking, extremely talented."

There is certainly no lack of talent in the show Glee. (OMG, I'm agreeing with half of one of Beck's sentences!) But, all the characters "extremely good-looking?" Which two episodes did he watch?

One of the remarkable things about Glee is its diversity — in fact, the series has received multiple awards for it. And, they don't stop at black, white, Hispanic, Asian. Or even straight, gay. There are characters who are conventionally pretty (head cheerleader Quinn, for example), but there are many more who don't quite fit the mold. This year, a new member of the glee club breaks the mold altogether. Wrestler Lauren Zizes isn't "big and beautiful;" the girl is unequivocally FAT. And, not only has she become a major character, she's captured the heart of McKinley High's sexy bad boy Puck.

What message are we sending our untethered children?

I don't think my daughter or her friends are going to gorge themselves to look like Lauren Zizes. But, if any of them do feel less than pretty, they now have a high-profile Hollywood happy ending in which the ugly girl gets the guy. Go Glee!

"Everyone is sleeping with everyone else."

Glee takes place in a public high school in Lima, Ohio. News flash, Mr. Beck! Some high school kids do have sex. But, just as in real life, some of the McKinley High School kids don't. In fact, there have been several story lines about deliberately choosing not to have sex (McKinley High has a very active — and sometimes musical — celibacy club).

One episode last year revolved around Madonna songs and included the 80s hit "Like a Virgin." The song was presented with cleverly edited ("brilliant, brilliant") scenes of different couples hooking up for the first time. But, of the three couples, two stopped before the act itself. The boy in the one couple that went through with it, immediately regretted it. Not only are these scenarios and decisions something I want my daughter exposed to, but Glee has opened the door to a lot of valuable conversations between us.

"There's no values; it's all self-gratification. It's a nightmare."

Wrong again, Glenn. If anything, Glee can get a little preachy with its values. Earnest Mr. Schuester, the glee club's endearing coach, teaches the kids a lesson every week. These have included self acceptance, empathy for others, overcoming disabilities, standing up to bullies, finding faith, not drinking ... the list goes on and on.

I, for one, am filled with "stunned horror" at what Glee has been teaching my daughter. Not.

Beck showcases one particular musical number (yes, that would be one out of the more than 200 songs performed on the show to date): the anthem "Sing," originally recorded by My Chemical Romance. He reads aloud the antiestablishment lyrics with righteous outrage. We have moved past renouncing valueless entertainment and into conspiracy theory territory. Now, this is getting silly. Clearly, the entire show has been created in order to poison our children's minds with a single liberal musical number.

All über vigilant things must come to an end. Beck wraps up his tirade about Glee and it's "brilliant songs and performances, brilliantly edited, brilliantly shot" (I'd like to add: brilliantly redundant) with a touching real-life story. Beck's "Chief of Staff" (excuse me, is he the President now?) and his siblings have all achieved amazing things because of a single incident. One day, they weren't doing their homework, so in a burst of superhuman parental responsibility, their tiny immigrant mother threw the television out onto the front lawn.

Maybe I should try that the next time my daughter won't do her homework.

But, then how would we watch Glee?