What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?: The Boys Scouts of America: Turning Your Kids Into Narcs Since 1916

October 21, 2006

The Boys Scouts of America: Turning Your Kids Into Narcs Since 1916

This past Friday, the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) announced a strange alliance with the Boy Scouts of America. The Boy Scouts, already a haven for pasty goodie-two-shoes and future homophobic Republicans, have agreed to incorporate an MPAA-approved curriculum for their Los Angeles-area troops. The important life-lesson the movie industry desperately wants to impart to the young, impressionable middle managers of tomorrow: Respecting Copyrights and Intellectual Property.

That’s right, friends. The MPAA hopes to stem the tide of illegal bootlegging and downloading of movies and music by teaching Boy Scouts—fucking Boy Scouts—that it’s important for everybody to pay eleven dollars to see Ray Romano do the voice of an animated donkey.

The bestbestbest part, though, is that the lucky LA-based troopers will be able to earn a “Respect Copyrights” patch for performing MPAA-approved activities including, but not limited to, “creating a public service announcement that demonstrates the importance of copyright protection or visiting a movie studio to learn about the people, time and costs required to make a movie.” Wha...?

I can’t think of any joke that could make this seem more ridiculous. Although it’s a real treat to imagine Troop 412 from Culver City touring the Paramount lot, all wide-eyed and giddy, hoping to meet Spider-Man. But instead, they get some dude in a suit saying, “Hi, guys! Let’s meet some of the people who work behind the scenes! This scruffy fat guy over here is Bernie. He’s a producer. Now, if you illegally download Pirates of the Caribbean instead of paying the full suggested retail price, then Bernie won’t be able to afford the incredible amount of cocaine he enjoys snorting off his under-aged girlfriend’s enormous, fake rack. You wouldn’t want to do that to Bernie, would you, kids? Huh?”

I'm left to wonder just how much money it takes to get the Boy Scouts to endorse your industry's cause. If the tobacco lobby just ponied up the right amount, could they get some sort of Joe Camel patch for the scout who blows the best smoke rings? Shit, I'd chip in to see that.

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A History Of Trash

Trash, at first, was a pretty cool guy. You know, he’d come over with some beers, and you’d hang out and have a couple of laughs. Maybe Trash brought some weed with him, and you guys tried to sync up Dark Side Of The Moon with The Wizard Of Oz until you remembered you lost your VHS copy of that movie sometime in college and that you fucking hate Pink Floyd. Good times were had, nonetheless.

But then, you don’t know what changed, but Trash started to overstay his welcome. He’d just linger for hours, never taking the hint you wanted him to leave, no matter how many times you yawned obnoxiously or mentioned how early you had to get up tomorrow. Trash just didn’t get it. You were getting older. You didn’t have the time anymore to stay up until 3 a.m. to talk about the Port season of “The Wire” or how much you miss Jawbox. Eventually, you just stopped taking Trash’s phone calls and no longer replied to his group e-mails about sneaking into abandoned mental hospitals.

Last time you saw Trash, he was smoking alone outside a local dive bar, looking down at his decaying and mismatched shoes. You hoped he had been doing well. You hoped he had not been hurt by the disintegration of your friendship. And if he had, you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to tell him that even though people move on with their lives, it doesn’t mean they stop caring. You wanted him to see in your eyes a sincere appreciation for the time you shared, because all the relationships in our lives help make us who we are, and even if you weren’t the best of friends anymore, you wanted him to know that there would always be a piece of Trash in your heart.

But instead, you looked away and crossed the street. You were with your new girlfriend, and you really didn’t want to have to explain Trash to her. She’d never understand.