Why Does It Taste Like Burning?

Imagining a world without "The Simpsons" is like envisioning Britney

I feel blessed to live in a society where ketchup comes in three different colors, your bologna has a first name, and a bald, overweight, beer-guzzling cartoon father reaches the status of a well-known religious savior.

Since their debut on "The Tracey Ullman Show" in 1987, the family of five has seen us through three presidential administrations, uncountable terrorist attacks, and the makings of two wars. No wonder our allegiance is that of a housebroken puppy.

The makers of the famed series clearly take pride in their work, and are loyal fans as well. After 15 years, the bulk of the original cast is still present and prosperous. With no visible signs of throwing in the towel, constant reruns on twice a day, the possibility of "The Simpsons" becoming a permanent staple of television becomes more of a reality.

The basic test of Simpsons trivia has become something of a social prerequisite for belonging. Citizens are looked down upon if they are unable to quote their favorite line or describe in detail their favorite 10 episodes.

I've witnessed people who have the ability to lead any topic of conversation back to "The Simpsons." I've been completely lost in other conversations where one second we're talking about the importance of fiber in one's diet, and the next it's all about, "Ms. Hoover, I glued my head to my shoulder."

Don't get me wrong, I can hold my own when it comes down to Simpsons trivia, but we have to draw the line somewhere ... don't we?

Absolutely not. If an animated series that deconstructs every social norm known to man is all it takes to keep a nation of approximately 300 million satisfied in their existence, then I say so be it.

The only possible problem with this situation lies in the First Commandment: "I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have strange gods before me." With the increase in popularity of "The Simpsons," Homer has become just that - a "strange god." So in response to the famous words of Ralph Wiggum, the next time "it tastes like burning," don't worry. It could just be the flames of hell giving a premature welcome to its newest member.

The millions of viewers across the country have taken it upon themselves to create a new religion. They're living day to day under the strict moral code that enforces the ability to see humor and sarcasm in every blink of the eye. Their Mecca: the Kwik-E-Mart. Their golden cow: Santa's Little Helper.

As I sit here being bombarded with the worst genre of music ever: heavy metal, I can't help thinking about the end. If tomorrow, God himself walks on the earth in judgment, asking us to quote verses from the Bible, I know I would feel secure knowing I've spent my life reviewing a much more sacred and holy doctrine of my faith - "The Simpsons."

With the increased notoriety of "The Simpsons" comes the possibility of comparison to the famed "Seinfeld." One similarity is its attempt to rival "The Simpsons" religious influences with the creation of an alternative religious holiday, Festivus: "the holiday for the rest of us."

True, the constant barrage of euphemisms that are extracted from both shows could constitute their own language, but there lies one important difference. "Seinfeld" is no longer in the process of making anything new - they're not broadcasting.

In short, "The Simpsons" are not merely a product of our times, but a means of living through them. From casual fan to the hardcore fanatic, the public's loyalty to their pop-culture idols is glaring. So, in the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "Can I go now?"