Post #168 from Dr. Crankenfuss, The World’s Awesomest Raving and Rapping middle school blogger–
Okay, I’m still a bit steamed from looking over a bunch of nursery rhymes that somehow have been around for hundreds of years and no one has the guts to say, “These things are kind of stupid, don’t you think?” Well no one, that is, until Dr. Crankenfuss came along. In my last post I tore up “Pease Porridge Hot” so bad I don’t know if it’ll ever recover. Besides that, I sent an email to the Center of Disease Control in Atlanta to tell them how dangerous this poem was for little children’s health (or for adults, if they’re still getting off on nursery rhymes). But so far they haven’t written back. I’m still waiting though.
Now here’s another one, maybe in the top five of all time. And I admit, it’s nowhere near as dangerous as the last one. Actually it’s not dangerous at all. And I also admit I’m being kind of picky with this one. But I don’t care. It still needs fixing and you’ll see why. It’s a cute little thing that teaches little kiddies how to count to ten and it’s called ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE. “I know that one, Crankenfuss, ” you’re probably saying. “What’s the matter with that one?” Well, it’s just that it bugs me how the author just came up with any old line at the end that would rhyme so the poem would be done with. And no one’s ever bothered to fix it, even though it would be easy. Here, let me show you what I mean.
ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE
Let’s start off with the first two lines. (I bet you’ve already figured them out.) “One, two, buckle my shoe.” Yes, I agree it’s a nice little rhyme. It has a couple numbers and then an action that is recommended. I got no problem with that.
“Three, four, shut the door.” Yes, two more numbers and a recommended action. See, that old-fashioned dude is doing just what he’s told. (BTW, nice clothes, kid! Man, I’m glad we don’t dress like that anymore. If I wore that to school, I’m sure I’d be laughed right out into the street, if not farther. Can you say, “newest victim of bullying”?)
“Five, six, pick up sticks.” Still no complaint here. Numbers, then an action.
“Seven, eight, lay them straight.” You’re seeing a definite pattern here, aren’t you? So obviously the last one will follow this same pattern, won’t it? Of course it will.
WRONG!! It’s “Nine, ten, a big fat hen.” Scuse me?? Yeah, it’s got the numbers and there’s a rhyme, but where’s the action? It’s like the writer just said, “Hey, nobody’ll care if I can’t think of an action for this one. I’ll just stick in something that’ll rhyme. I mean, it’s just for dumb little kids who can’t even count. What’ll they care?” The writer might as well have put, “A ten-foot pen” or “Three wise men” or “Your own play pen.” That nursery rhyme genius JUST DIDN’T CARE!
Well, it’s obvious that nobody else has cared for hundreds of years, neither little kids — but I forgive them because what do they know? — or their parents, but that doesn’t keep ol’ Crankenfuss from pointing out that this is pure, sloppy, lazy writing. How hard could it be to come up with an action that rhymes with “ten”? Hey, I have the perfect one: “Nine, ten, Let’s do it again.” See, that makes the whole thing circular. It takes you back to the beginning and that little cutie pie will keep repeating and repeating and repeating — oh, you get the picture — until those ten numbers are fused into her little brain (or his, of course).
Can you think of a more perfect last line?
It’s like that “Pete and Repeat”joke that ends with the word “Repeat” so the teller has to repeat the thing over and over. And yeah, I know it’s dumb, but it DOES make sense and little kids love it. And they’ll like the Crankenfuss version of “One, Two, Buckle my Shoe” better as well for the same reason. It just makes sense.
I learned at school that Robert Kennedy, President Kennedy’s brother once said, “There are those that look at things the way they are, and ask why? I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?”
Yes, I think Robert Kennedy would think Dr. Crankenfuss would fit into that important second category. ‘Cause that’s what I do, ya know?
From a guy who should have been around way back when
nursery rhymes were being created. That way, millions
of little children would be better off.
Dr. Crankenfuss
