Selected Answers to Our Totally Kid-friendly Summer Activity Guide

WILD KRATTS MODULE

For the uninitiated, Wild Kratts is a nature-focused PBS Kids show where the Kratt brothers and their high-tech crew battle animal-exploiting villains. Don’t have children and you’ll never have to think about that sentence again.

Create a 300-word biography for Jimmy Z.

Born in San Diego, and raised by a single mom, Jimmy Z. was a classic slacker. Aimless and unmotivated, he drifted through the public school system a C+ student, failing to obtain admission to any of California’s many prestigious universities. Stuck living at home, depressed and floundering, he passed the days masturbating to anime, playing video games, and selling weed.

An unexpected knock on the door changed everything.

On his twenty-first birthday, a familiar-looking man introduced himself. He was tightly packed. Wore a crew cut and aviator glasses. Said his name was Pete, but his friends called him Maverick, and Jimmy could call him dad.

The two embraced. Cried. Maverick told Jimmy he was sorry. Said things with Charlie never worked out, and all that sexual tension with Iceman — well, he had to release it somehow. And one day he just so happened to release it inside Jimmy’s mom, a part-time art student, who was waitressing nights at Denny’s, causing a beautiful accident.

Maverick said he didn’t know about Jimmy until a few months ago. Said he felt guilty. Wanted to make things right.

And that’s how Jimmy ended up at Top Gun. Though he finished bottom of his class, Jimmy proved an adept pilot, capable of merging and leveraging his disparate skills — gaming prowess, cowardice, and laziness — in unexpectedly useful ways.

When Maverick heard the Kratt brothers needed a pilot for their experimental aircraft, the Tortuga, he knew Jimmy, his very own son, was just the man for the job. And God knows the Navy wouldn’t have let Jimmy anywhere near a nuclear-armed aircraft. The rest, as they say, is history.

Rank the show’s recurring antagonists (e.g., Gourmand, Zach, Donita, and Paisley) from least to most reprehensible. Articulate your reasoning.

Gourmand >> Zach >>>>>>>>>>>> Paisley > Donita.

Gourmand is the least bad, which may seem counterintuitive since his entire gimmick involves creating fine delicacies from rare and endangered species. BUT, my dude wrestled a Komodo dragon to a stalemate and lived to tell the tale. Respect.

Zach tries to “mechanize” animals, or some shit, but he’s more pathetic than harmful.

The gap between those two and Paisley and Donita is substantial. Paisley is rampant neoliberalism and destructive globalization in a pantsuit, taken to its logical extreme (e.g., deforestation, natural habitat destruction, climate change).

And yet somehow, Donita, the evil fashion designer, is worse. She tries to kill or entrap animals to make fancy clothes. No social utility. No poverty alleviation. No technological innovation. Just vanity.

Note: If my ranking seems chauvinistic, put the blame on the show’s writers, where it belongs.

OBI-WAN KENOBI MODULE

Sigh.

I considered doing an entire post about Star Wars then remembered nobody wants to read another middle-aged dad’s lamentations about how George Lucas and Disney ruined his childhood memories.

They didn’t. My dad ruined my childhood memories when he impregnated an 18-year-old girl and then abandoned her.

Nonetheless, the central issue with current Star Wars content is not specific to Star Wars, and can be addressed via this question:

Should viewers emotionally invest in characters whose fates have long since been determined? Why or why not?

No! As overwhelming evidence, I submit this interaction with my daughter.

[Watching episode three of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

DAUGHTER: (panicked and covering her eyes) No, no, no — I don’t want to watch this! Oh, Dad, I don’t like this!

DAD: (pauses TV) If this is too scary, we can stop the show. It’s meant for bigger kids.

DAUGHTER: (thinks for a sec) Wait! Star Wars Rebels happens after this show, right?

DAD: Yes.

DAUGHTER: So Leia and Obi-Wan must survive then, right?

DAD: It would appear that way.

DAUGHTER: Okay, we can watch then.

Boom. Look, nobody gives a shit about Luke or Leia or Han or Obi-Wan or Chewie, etc., etc., etc. because we already know their destinies. There are literally no stakes!

Yet Disney continues to double and triple down. Andor is next. Who fucking cares?! We already know when, where, why, and how the character dies.

HARDCORE HISTORY MODULE

Would you rather:

• Be cut down in the legendary carnage of the 1914 Battle of the Frontiers?
• Die in a maelstrom of projectiles during a futile charge at the beastly, Mordor-inspired 1916 Battle of the Somme?
• Become mincemeat at the apocalyptic, 1916 hellscape of Verdun?
• Be swallowed alive in the nightmarish claypits of the 1917 Passchendaele campaign?

I vote for the Battle of the Frontiers. As the first major theater of the war, it would’ve been a much more romantic affair. And by not realizing you were getting dropped into the meat grinder, there would’ve still been hope.

Conversely, by 1916 everyone knew the battlefields were hell. The daily dread — waiting to be mutilated or killed — must’ve been terrible and terrifying.

For sheer novelty’s sake, Passchendaele deserves consideration, but the poor devils who literally sank into those pits — it’s inhumane to even contemplate. I’d only wish it on Mitch McConnell.

Write a short fantasy story imagining a version of Earth where the 2030s and 2040s aren’t an unmitigated dumpster fire.

In January 2025, lame duck Vice President Kamala Harris refuses to certify President-elect Ron DeSantis’ electoral college victory. Michelle Obama’s music hits, she sprints down the ramp to Capitol Hill, and when the referee isn’t looking, seizes control of the federal government in a military coup backed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Emperor Obama orders her staff to conduct an immediate, unbiased census. The entire congressional map is redrawn. A snap election is held to ensure demographic majorities are fairly represented in the House. Senate elections are also called. Joe Manchin, Kyrsten Sinema, Susan Collins, and Lisa Murkowski mysteriously disappear. The current Supreme Court is dissolved. Forty-one new justices are appointed by the now representative Senate.

Emperor Obama imposes a carbon tax.

Emperor Obama nationalizes the technology industry and seizes its hidden, offshored profits, reinjecting them into public education and toward the alleviation of food deserts. Immediately afterwards, Emperor Obama re-privatizes the technology industry and tells the companies to pay their fucking taxes and fix their goddamned algorithms.

Texas secedes. Emperor Obama declares war on Texas. Texas is recolonized. Emperor Obama nukes the Jerry Dome.

Shortly after, Emperor Obama willingly relinquishes power in a peaceful transition. Free and fair Presidential elections are held in November 2025.

DeSantis wins again.

Are humans capable of learning from history?

No, obviously.

SUCCESSION MODULE

How does a show with no likeable or redeemable characters whatsoever manage to be so imminently watchable and shockingly compelling?

My wife and I discuss this often. All the characters are positively miserable. But two things really work. First, unlike Star Wars, the stakes are massive. Each of the dipshit kids is jockeying for billions of dollars, control of the media, their own personal legacy, political influence, etc., and you don’t know how it’s going to end.

Second, Succession perfectly recalibrates the baseline for “heroism” by making Logan, the show’s primary antagonist, incomprehensibly vile. The guy has no redeeming qualities whatsoever, thus, as a foil, even Shiv and Roman seem like decent people in comparison.

Hot take: Logan’s by far the best character. And the hero of the show. Planning to elaborate on this further someday soon. Feel free to debate in the comments!

Fuck, marry, kill: Kendall, Siobhan, Roman. Justify your reasoning.

Fuck: Siobhan, for obvious reasons including toxic, closeminded heteronormativity.

Marry: Roman, because he’s offensively hilarious. He’ll also be the easiest to push around after the marriage inevitably sours.

Kill: Kendall, to put the poor bastard out of his misery.

JURASSIC PARK MODULE

On the docket: A passionate reader suggested I write an entire novel based on my epic pet dinosaurs as firearms metaphor (last section of the syllabus).

I love this idea!

To begin, I’m going to write an opening chapter, which will also function as a standalone short story, and see if I can get it published somewhere (e.g., in a contest, literary magazine, etc.). This one will take some time, but I plan to tackle it.