A Deep Look At Soap Operas
You have got to love soap operas. From the intricate plots and
finely woven webs of deceit, to the depths of schemes, they
were, are and always will be classics. They are timeless. I
wrote this article as my take on them back in 1970 when filling
white space for our high school paper. Watch a few soap operas
for the next few days and see for yourself how closely they
resemble the soap operas of 36 years ago...
And now for that thought provoking question that plagues men's
souls unceasingly through the bright shining of the day and
through the untold dark depths of the night:
Why did Peter, who in reality is actually Superman, fake that he
stubbed his toe on the 17th stone on the sidewalk starting at
4th and Grand instead of the 16th stone, which was bigger and
more logically the victim of that invulnerable toe and why did
Marlys take Sam's advice to buy the yellow tulip instead of the
red and green carnation, while all the time Rodregus knew that
the curvaceous young Pandora was at the moment buying the last
purple, double-breasted, duck-billed, warbling giraffe in the
world for her dear departed Phillip disguised as a lowly second
mate on the Queen Mary, which was under attack by the tyrant
Cedric because of the terrible beating he had suffered at the
hands of Radcliff whose ex-wife Natalie was actually Percival's
long lost great-great-uncle Maximillian in disguise who knew
that Zigmond was fond of un-pitted olives stuffed into green
grapefruit filled graciously with Granny and Gretchen's goulash,
which was gradually getting gooey and who also knew of
Jennifer's contact Louella in the deep Congo, seized at the time
by the dread Gardenia, the 7th cousin of Guenivere, in hopes of
receiving the eight-ounce bottle of Elmer's Glue stored in the
vast files in the cortex of Courtney's colossal computer complex
carefully compiled to correct the current curling, commonly
crusading as the contagious, communicable, crystalline, cucumber
crud, carried on cue sticks by crying cuckoo clock birds
continuously to conform with the cunning Cornelius' cumbersome
plot to corrupt the currency and continue the crisis of the
Cormandel Coast Cult, complicated by the coroner Cort's corny
connotation to conceal his consecutive coronary contractions
constantly crippling his conscious efforts to contradict
congenial counterparts' careful counterfeit correspondence with
Corwyn, the cosmic cosmetician?
Was it because Bill had green eyes or was it because Melissa
meddled menacingly and meticulously in Maude's plans to read the
calendar to see what year she had been sent to by her superiors
in the future?
Tune in tomorrow for the exciting climax created by another deep
question.