Bored with listening to politicians bloviate, I moved to an entertainment channel where I found a commercial for a burger chain. The mascot for said chain is a humanoid with a round clown head designed to look like a jack-in-the-box. This character and his seemingly human wife are engaged in a game of Scrabble. They quibble about his play, then she delivers the punch line by playing a very vulgar euphemism for sexual intercourse, with the prefix “no” attached to the beginning of the word. I couldn’t believe it. This is a main stream company with a frontman who is clearly designed to appeal to kids. I’m thinking creepy, sexual references ought to be off-limits. If I am a parent, I know I am going to have to have the “what does that mean, Daddy,” conversation with my kids. For the umpteenth time in the last few years I had the sinking sense that I am watching the end of the world. I have heard no outrage, not even one comment from anyone regarding this well-produced primetime trash. Where am I? I have to trust that Jesus is coming soon. At the very least, I will be sure to refrain from buying greasy burgers from perverse clowns with Pinocchio noses. Come to think of it, I didn’t do that anyway.