Kenton Helps History!

I've seen a few of those Dateline 20/20 segments on child prodigies; the ones who at the age of 5 can write symphonies, notice anomalies in quantum physics equations, and give lectures covering 4-dimensional geometry. The semi-geniuses, however, are left to hang out with Jeff Foxworthy on "Smarter than a 5th Grader." Here's another example of how the Southern educational system is put to shame:

Granted, these child prodigies cannot even write their own name. They bring their mom to class and sit there with a Gameboy while she takes notes for him (I'm going to assume the male speech because I don't think female prodigies exist). The toughest part has to be going to the dining hall where you try to seek out and sit next to that hot chick you know gets with the football team...the problem is you have nothing in common to converse about and all you have the urge to do is push her to the ground and call her a poopy-head.


Even if it gets past that point and you bring her back to your dorm you've still got a few hurdles to overcome.

First, you either have a gay roommate who is playing with Magic cards with himself (the kind of person who would be mean enough to put on headphones when he wasn't even listening to music) that makes your date squeamish, or second there just isn't enough room in your racecar bed -- sure it looked cool when you bought it, but soon after the dorm losers were giving you weird looks you knew you'd have it rough.

These kids also have it bad when it comes to athletics. Well, performance on the field is a no brainer; I'm talking about the hours and hours of homework you'll have to do when the football team finds out that they don't have to do their Modern Jazz homework anymore? Except for Carl's of course, because he's in legit classes...although the German language did persecute my people for hundreds of years...but I digress.

The orginial point of this column was to point out something I read about Kenton via FoxNews.com this morning. Firstly, Fox is "Fair and Balanced", so it has to be true. Secondly, I tend to be like most civilians and believe what my media tells me.

So apparently, little Kento made a little trip to the Smithsonian. In the education business, Kenton thought it a great idea to take his children to the mecca of intellectual stimulation (well, the 2nd mecca as the Cleveland Orchestra's Symphony Theater was closed for construction). Here, under the alias surname of Stufflebeam (that is not a typo) Kenton went around, pointed at random factoids and kept screaming out "Wrong!," "There's no way that is true!," and "Fu#k that! Wikipedia says differently!"

According to the story, after about 4 hours of this Mr. Stufflebeam finally hit the jackpot. Some complete idiot labeled the Precambian as the "Precambian Era," which to all prodigies is quite comical...I mean who labels the time between the creation of Earth and the Cambian Period as an ERA?

Eventually, the museum fixed the egregious error by painting over it. Kenton wanted a picture of himself to go next to the spot in which academia had failed the public. However, the Smithsonian would not accept the stick figure drawings of a James Gaughan Gower who had been battling a Fig Newton addiction that was quite well known to the public. If you don't believe me, read about it here!

So let this be a warning to you future parents. Hope that your kid doesn't become a prodigy because you'll have to post his rantings on YouTube, follow him around for another 4/5 years at college (may or may not be a setback to you depending on your state of bachelorhood at the time), and lastly having to live with your exceeding expectations of your child and being presented with nothing but unrelenting disappointment.

How can a child prodigy be dissapointing? Well, you obviously do not know the story of little old Waif Matsukane. Under the daily stresses of make-up, dresses, and estrogen Waif found respite in DDR - Dance Dance Revolution. The further he traveled for Irish Dance, the harder he hit those plastic pads. No song was left unmastered, no beat unmemorized by his cerebral cortex. He just couldn't reach his dreams, and that kid at the mall never let him play, so off he went never to return to the public eye (kind of like that chess dude). A tragedy unparalleled in the music video game era, Waif is remembered by his only recorded dance.

So let this be a reminder to you all: Don't be too smart, and never be the only boy with 4 sisters. Oh, and don't use the surname Stufflebeam as your alias...you're just being an ass.