Is Anyone Else Disturbed..

By the refashioning of Alvin and Chipmunks from adorable little singing weasels to overweight I’m-a-bus’-yo’-ass glossy hip hop stars?

THIS is Alvin and The Chipmunks.

Cute, slightly sexually ambiguous for wearing turtlenecked dresses, and downright wholesome.

And this?

THIS is Al-Viddy and the Chipcrunks. And they will seriously get the rest of the animal kingdom on your ass if you don’t go see their new movie…

in which they will have become slightly less intimidating, and much more… like jerkoff frat boys.

Simon, you look much better as a defiant, squirrely Harry Potter, and Alvin, thanks for revealing your healthy head of… human… hair??? Also, boys, your junk is showing.

I’m sorry for the excessive use of the ellipses, but I am just really blown away by how much these boys have changed since I used to watch them on the family television all those years ago. (A television, by the way, which was the size of Connecticut and which did not come with a cable subscription… or a remote.)

Here is where I would insert a paragraph about how the world is a crummier place and everything is worse now than it was “back then” and everything has lost its innocence…blah blah blah. But I’ve already nipped that crap in the bud. I swore that when I got to be the age I am now, I would never ever start comparing the glory of my youth to the shitshow of today’s youth. Because you know what? It’s all relevant. I had to hear my relatives drone on about how, in their day, they played with gasoline-soaked rags tied to driftwood and they LOVED it, damnit! THAT was playing!

Alright, my relatives didn’t play with gasoline-soaked rags. But they, just like their parents, always thought their version of their youth was so much freakin better than everyone else’s. And so I promise never to say that MY Alvin is better than today’s Alvin. Maybe just …er…. different. In a defensive posturing, staring you down to let you know who’s boss kinda way.

Here’s why: In twenty years, Alvin and the Chipmunks will be making a third comeback to a generation who has no fucking idea why harmonizing rodents should be entertaining, and the only thing that will be holding their attention is the fact that Alvin has had a sex change operation gone wrong and that he looks mezmerizing in a sequined leotard wrapped around a strippers pole.

And then we’ll all long for the days when Alvin was just a misguided punk-ass in an oversized hoodie, now, won’t we?