Columnist Scott Dickensheets: Cowabunga — hey, hey, hey! It’s only ‘South Park’

Scott Dickensheets

Saturday, May 2, 1998 | 4:32 a.m.

SCOTT DICKENSHEETS' column appears Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at 259-4082 or dickens@lasvegassun.com

FEAR AND clothing in "South Park": Oh my God, they've over-reacted to Kenny!

School officials in Wisconsin, Connecticut, Georgia, Texas and wherever are drawing a line in the playground dirt over "South Park," the popular Comedy Central cartoon series (cable's No. 1 show 10 of the last 12 weeks) noted for its tasteless humor and fearless religious, racial and sexual taboo-busting. Some principals have banned "South Park" wear from campus, some have sent parents stern letters of warning.

A sample, from the worried pen of Stormonth Elementary Principal Linda Moore in Fox Point, Wis., who's done both: "We have become aware that some of our children are taping it and sharing it with their friends, so your child may be watching it when you are not at home."

We don't seem to be rushing to the barricades yet in Las Vegas -- the elementary- and secondary-ed officials I spoke to hadn't even heard of the show -- but it's surely a matter of time.

When it happens, I have two words to offer: "The Simpsons." Or three: "Beavis and Butt-head."

Both shows, denounced for their corrosive effect on our youth, prompted similar brow-furrowing and calls for action in their time. Yet, somehow, the republic survived Bart Simpson's rebelliousness and Beavis' fascination with fire -- no thanks to the alarmed watchdoggery of moralists, but because, I think, most kids can handle it. Mine, when I let them watch it, understand "South Park" isn't a model for their behavior. It's just something that makes them laugh.

It's not that I'm endorsing the show -- there have been episodes I won't let my kids see (for their part, the big cheesy poofs at Comedy Central don't want kids tuned in; they don't license "South Park" clothing in kids sizes). But I dislike high-minded over-reaction as well, not to mention the self-congratulatory back-slapping of virtue cops proud of having thwarted another menace. (I hated the possessive-protective reference to "our children" in Moore's letter.) Let kids watch or don't let 'em watch, I just don't think "South Park" shirts are evil.

The issue turns on our contradictory feelings toward children. On one hand, we need to see children as pure and uncorrupted (unless, of course, they're welfare children, in which case we apparently need to see them as punishments inflicted on their wayward mothers). And extremism in protection of our idealized children is no vice: Principal Moore admits she's only seen one student wearing a "South Park" shirt on one day, but, darn it, other kids were gathered around looking at it, too!

At the same time, all those damned idealized kids are nuisances! Taking your children to a restaurant is an exercise in avoiding nasty looks. You'll never convince me that most of the people attacking "South Park" actually care about children. If we really cared, we wouldn't be clucking over crude cartoons and President Clinton's sex life while the nation's schools crumble. As Tom Brokaw said the other day, "American schools are in turmoil and no one's interested in paying much attention to them." Studies show we spend significantly less time with our offspring now than just a few years ago.

Given all that, you can call me overly easygoing, but where "South Park" shirts are concerned, don't have a cow, man.