If you’re planning on having children, consider this a warning.
Barney is coming back. I know. We’d be better off bringing back asbestos. The announcement, endorsed by Satan, arrived this week. In a release sure to trigger PTSD in parents who survived the previous purple pandemic, Mattel is “relaunching” its “iconic Barney franchise” with new TV, film and YouTube content in 2024.
It would be juvenile for a grown man to hate a plush dinosaur who sang cloying songs about love and friendship. But the only way I could hate Barney more is if he were sipping a double-double from Tim Hortons. “Barney & Friends” was not just a show for preschoolers — it was a sledgehammer to the soul of new parents who were already sleep deprived and lucky to sneak in a shower every third day.
I love you / You love me / We’re best friends like friends should be / With a great big hug / And a kiss from me to you / Won’t you say you love me too?
No, Barney. I refuse. I will never stop hating your T-Rex guts.
Barney is also getting a makeover. This is not uncommon. A couple of years ago, Thomas the Tank got a new look and somehow morphed from a cherubic blue steam engine to a diabolical locomotive who may dabble in off-track serial killing.
Strawberry Shortcake ended up with a cooler hat and shoes. Dora the Explorer traded her backpack for a stylish choker. The Trolls gave up their nudist lifestyle. Holly Hobbie ditched hobo chic. The Care Bears appeared to hire Pharrell Williams as their stylist. If “The Flintstones” is rebooted, Fred will have bulging biceps and a hipster beard.
The new Barney, now animated, must have gone to Beverly Hills for cosmetic surgery. The old Barney, a shade of rotting eggplant, looked like he spent his nonsinging hours binging Cheetos and betting on horses while blitzed on uppers.
The new Barney, now a hot magenta, looks like a TikTok influencer.
Did Barney get Botox? Veneers? Rhinoplasty? Buccal fat removal?
In one preview image shared by Mattel, Barney is jumping from a Goop-style supernova, his tiny left arm pumping with delight, his green eyes wide open as if he just had electroconvulsive therapy. Barney now has the vibe of a crypto scammer.
It would be funny if it were not horrifying.
Why bring back Barney, Mattel? You already make boatloads of dough. You fleeced me for hundreds just with the “Monster High” franchise. Why traumatize a new generation of parents? Why not let evil Barney stay entombed in Jurassic treacle?
“Barney & Friends” ended in 2010. I recall breaking down in tears of joy. There is no shame in catapulting a kiddie character into permanent exile.
Pepé Le Pew was quietly cancelled a couple of years ago. I’m fuzzy on the details, but something about promoting “rape culture.” Yes, that predatory skunk was as creepy as Jeffrey Epstein. But unlike Barney, Pepé never made a new mom or dad contemplate jumping off a skyscraper after hearing “If All the Raindrops” 97 times.
Hey, Mattel, is the world not miserable enough without bringing back Barney?
I will never understand why children’s content now needs to be grating on adult hearts and minds. The little boy in me misses you, Mr. Dressup. My wife has a cabinet in which she stores new items for gifting. I call it our Tickle Trunk. If we had twin sons instead of daughters, I would have begged to name them Casey and Finnegan.
Even as a little kid, I remember thinking, “Man, this Mr. Dressup is so calm.”
That anti-Barney serenity meant my parents never felt like boozing out of a paper bag.
Parents today are not so lucky. I heard Caillou is also coming back. That whiny brat is even more annoying than Barney. What kind of message was that monster implanting in impressionable minds? That it’s OK to misbehave in restaurants? That sibling jealousy is grounds for pinching the cheek of your baby sister? That a temper tantrum is perfectly acceptable if you’re just not in the mood for a bath?
Barney and Caillou are exhibits A and B in everything that’s wrong with children’s entertainment. My advice for new parents is to cut down on the screen and find enchanting books. When my daughters were munchkins, they were mesmerized by “Moon and Star,” by Toronto’s dazzling Robin Muller.
I must have read that book over 50 bedtimes and choked up every time.
Want to discover the pure joy in reading out loud? Buy “Skippyjon Jones” by Judy Schachner. The Spanish phonetics are a delight. You also can never go wrong with the classics, including “Charlotte’s Web,” “Where the Wild Things Are,” “The Cat in the Hat” and “Goodnight Moon.”
I don’t know why this turned into a pre-JK book review. I blame Barney. I blame Barney for climate change. I blame Barney for the cost of eggs. I blame Barney for John Tory’s resignation. I blame Barney for stubbing my toe on the Tickle Trunk this morning. I blame Barney for MAGA. I blame Barney for everything.
Barney is not a character. Barney is an abomination.
Barney was finally receding to the gossamer chambers of memory where trauma is stored. Now Mattel is crank-starting the cray-cray for a new generation.
Knock it off, Satan. Future parents deserve mercy.
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