'all hail the magic conch' show

by guest contributor Adam Stynchula

“Ah, the sea, so fascinating, so wonderful. Here we see Bikini Bottom, teeming with life; home of  one of my favorite creatures, Spongebob Squarepants… yes of course he lives in a pineapple,  you silly.”  

Of course: “used to give or emphasize agreement or permission” or “introducing a qualification  or admission” or “used to show that what you are saying is obvious or already known.”  

Why would you know that a yellow sea sponge, that sleeps in whitey-tighty underwear  with shoes and socks on, lives in a pineapple under the sea? It’s just a kid’s cartoon! But it’s not just a kids’ cartoon…it’s a show! An emblematic show that used enthusiastic absurdity to hide a prominent theme of existential meaninglessness that would, through its own merit, come to mold the minds of an entire generation of kids who watched it! Ah… the animators used to draw this puppy for years… and this one was in great shape for the first three seasons. But, would you just drop the stupid emblematic label? Have you noticed that almost all kid’s cartoons during that time had some hidden meaning underneath, and there’s now none of them left? That’s because they made it obvious to the adults watching, and the edginess was predicated on the then-prevalent angsty desire for counterculture! And now, you’re telling me, Spongebob Squarepants, a show with edge, angst, or graphicness unlike any other, is now the emblematic show of its generation because it used absurdity instead?

CUE BOULDER SMASH

By the end of the nineties there basically existed a few formulas of cartoons: fully realized adult cartoons, fully realized kid’s cartoons, and the mysterious blend of the two. Adult cartoons were highly popular, always being fed to the masses in the media as controversial and poisoning the stratosphere of American culture (The Simpsons, South Park, etc). The joke being these shows were merely displaying the ridiculousness of American culture with the critical media being so blind to their own turf that they were defending. The kids cartoons were the typical formula, tried and true, with relatable characters struggling through different everyday situations, within the show’s palate of aesthetic and genre, and learning a lesson by the end of the episode (Rugrats, Hey Arnold, etc). But the mysterious blend of the two created an uncanny hodge-podge of shows that gave kids what they wanted but left adults either confused, conflicted, or in a state of catharsis. Even though all these mysterious blends of cartoons had a varying degree of adult and kid content in the mix, what was unique about all of them was that they all had this surreal darkness to them, and it was obvious. Kids could always tell something was off, but they couldn’t explain why. Ask any of them today about these shows and they’d say “Yo, that show had such a weird vibe at times” or something stupid like that. The darkness was the edginess of taboo and adult content and it was disguised by the surreal animation and art style to blur this content under the guise of  “cartoon.” 

Examples include: Powerpuff Girls’ Him (a demonic trans-queer exotic lobster), Dexter’s Laboratory’s Father complex of sacrificing and betraying his family to stuff his face with delicious muffins, Cow and Chicken’s waxed and polished bare-ass Frank-n-Furter sounding devil villain, or Courage the Cowardly Dog’s continued use of horror and uncanny storylines and situations. At its apex, the blended cartoons went so far as Ren & Stimpy’s full onslaught of sexually suggestive and graphic imagery in every episode, or Rocko’s Modern  Life’s continuous plots of topics like sacrificial cults, prostitution, and overbearing work life. It seemed that all these shows weren’t ever really trying to “say” anything as much as they were just trying to push the envelope on what they could get away with. A revolution, of sorts, to the moral foundation of cartoons that are geared toward children. 

Enter Spongebob. 

After completing Rocko’s Modern Life, as creative director, Stephen Hillenburg felt confident enough to pitch his own show: Spongebob Squarepants. This show would borrow a very similar formula from Rocko (buddy comedy, neighbor relations, older demographic of main characters), but Hillenburg would shift the surreality and darkness of content to a noticeably brighter direction, on the surface. 

Instead of pushing boundaries, Hillenburg played within the bounds of non-graphic adult and abstract themes and covered it up with an absurd approach. Basically, Hillenburg was able to get away with telling stories that subconsciously fed children with existential nightmares of: nothing matters; thus indulge, or self-inflict, either way you can’t escape the pain of meaninglessness. How? Absurdity. He played that ace of spades every chance he could get, and more often than not, the gamble was always worth it. And like every good joke, the punchline has to have perfect timing. Hillenburg’s punchline would hit his audience decades later: the generation that grew up on Spongebob would become Spongebob. To me, that’s more “edgy” than anything Ren and Stimpy came up with. 

Now, I’m going to stop and assume if you’re reading this, like myself, you grew up watching Spongebob Squarepants. Sure, we all knew it was weird, but it wasn’t as crazy as some of the shows previously mentioned above. But looking back, don’t you see how much this show predicted? How many times or memes have you seen describing someone you know, or yourself, as Squidward? Youtube videos galore will paint glorious pictures of how we are no longer Spongebob’s but Squidwards, and then what’s next, Mr Krabs? Will we be like the boomers who grew up, gave up their dreams, and became greedy corporate money machines? Nickelodeon must’ve been so happy after Hillenburg’s initial pitch, thinking “here’s something child-like and without potential controversies”, but, little would they know, this show would penetrate the next generation and the world to come. This existential absurdity penetrated the cultural zeitgeist by coming out at the perfect time: the turn of the millennium. With the mile markers of Woodstock 99 ending all desire to further this angsty counter-revolution of corporations and traditions meaninglessly held on by boomers, paranoia and irrational frenzy of Y2K, Clinton’s further deterioration of an already declined trust in previous generations, and a new era of apathetically neutral Americanism) Spongebob would essentially have a free market of imbuing the next generation with its narrative. So… let’s see what we got underneath all the surface narrative, and explore what’s been itching at millennials and society recently.

Looking back now, Spongebob and Squidward are the easiest to start with in this deep dive. Both of these characters are deeply depressed and are dealing with it in their own way. They both live off a meager paycheck yet have the comfort of affording multi-level homes (most likely due to their parents or a privileged loophole), both are seemingly adults with no love life and no passion that is rewarded past their own vain attempts. It’s pretty safe to assume they both experience same sex desires, and because they have been given such a comfy existence besides that fact, they have no desire to rebel or revolt against “the system” like their boomer and even Gen X predecessors.

Spongebob deals with everything in denial and absurdity to its purest form, also with no attachment to any cultural, religious, or societal expectation outside of his parents. In fact, his parents’ presence may be the only thing keeping him from fully embracing Patrick. His nervousness seeing them at the talent show, Patrick holding their car back as Spongebob nearly leaves home after his home is destroyed, and the conservativeness of their appearance show a tighter hold on Sponge, not to mention–how did he afford that home? Spongebob makes up his own games and nonsensical traditions because he lives by himself, fearing a return to his family, a complete Peter Pan unable to face reality that he is a grown-ass man, and that it's time to accept the reality that this can’t go on forever. Sounds horribly like me, in so many ways.

Squidward is Sponge’s foil, still struggling with meaning, but his absurdity comes with his insanity: doing things over and over again, expecting a different result. He never gets better with his art, he’s never going to get another job, he’ll never admit to himself or his clarinet that he’s wrong, and he is perpetually stuck in this samsara of denial until he finds meaning in himself outside of a perceived talent (“KNOW TALENT NO TALENT”). He has to confront himself, his charisms, his attractions, and his place in society, lest he continue downward. Squid needs to put on a pair of pants, swallow a modesty pill, and allow his talent to be a part of the culture of Bikini Bottom rather than waiting for someone completely out of his league to discover him in his little content creation rabbit hole. Sounds horribly like me, in so many ways.

Patrick is the enabler of both of these characters, living next to them in his subsidized rock. He is the clear essence of absurd apathy: nothing matters. He’s usually pushing Sponge to break free of his parental mind-constrictions, trying to elope with a connection that just isn’t ready yet. I mean, Patrick literally breaks into Sponge’s home in the middle of the night and puts on his pants and hides in his closet, playing a “where am I” game. The man wants Sponge, but Sponge isn’t as apathetic to everything just yet. Patrick is the most obvious case of negative absurdity… what would he do without his friend? He couldn’t even recognize his own parents. 

When children leave home, and they waste their money on Starbucks, weed, reddit, chasing after fantasies that will never come, gorging themselves when they do something wrong, watching the same Andrew Huberman videos night after night saying “tomorrow I’m gonna change,” completely forgetting what person they were before they left home to live on their own, what other hole do you go down besides one under a rock? Without any meaning in life, it's absurd to think otherwise. The best symbol for this breakdown is Patrick’s dream, riding half-happy on a children’s ride, unamused by his best friend next to him… and then the ride ends and he does nothing. Sounds horribly like me, in so many ways.

Mr. Krabs is the boomer who just doesn’t get why this generation can’t keep moving forward like he did, but he doesn’t care because he’s got them under his sweaty armpits knowing that they need the meager paycheck and are willing to do it because they’re too damn lazy to actually make build a career for themselves. What a proud boomer. Plankton’s college education doesn’t give him happiness but produces him an artificial and conditional lover, the ability to critique other’s talents eloquently and without shame, and the idea that seduction is the best means of getting what you want. Sounds about right. And do I even need to get started with Sandy? I think I saw her wearing a Covid face mask, walking to her local Whole Foods.

That’s just the characters! So much of Spongebob’s absurdity lies in its plot details. The episode “Pickles” centers around the notion that Sponge’s whole identity is reliant on work, and the paranoia of getting one thing wrong, but of course he won’t leave this torture chamber because that would require real work. “Tea at the Treedome” explores the absurdity of addiction and pushing beyond your natural capability until your body literally suffocates your soul. “Hall Monitor” is very reminiscent of nonsensical power given to individuals who don’t deserve it…wow who knew Sponge was such a pig. “Suds” showcases how anyone can become a doctor, as long as you read enough on the matter, you’re an expert! Mr. Krab’s Captain Hook adventure in “Arrgh” might be my favorite absurdity: the idea that you can just go out and act on your own fantasies based on a corporate marketing ploy to buy a game. How much time I waste trying to find the treasure, knowing it’s not real and I’m just chasing around the procrastination of my own self-improvement, if only just for a little more pleasure! The complete destruction of an entire town, Hiroshima style, in “Dying for Pie,” occurs at the end of the episode and all we can do is laugh! “Grandma’s Kisses” hints at this growing trend in openly gay men who have a fantasy-like “high school best friend” relationship with their grandmothers, and post camp videos of them on Tiktok, because the natural family hierarchical order has been completely destroyed, and everyone just wants to act like 18 years old with each other. In addition, “Dumped” hints at this growing trend of valuing pets more than people; when is Spongebob gonna get married and have children? “Squid on Strike” hit hard after the summer protests of 2020 moved to September, and by then most people realized, “Oh, wait, some of you are actually serious about completely destroying the entire establishment board by board? No thanks, I did my time.” “Club Spongebob” and the “Magic Conch” provides an interesting critique of Quietism, a heresy surrounding an absolute passivity and contemplation in total repose of the spirit, while also presenting an interesting peep into the current trend of people relying solely on what talking heads on the internet tell them to think. “Doin’ Time” is one of the cruelest episodes, solely spotlighting a slow descent into madness from Mrs. Puff. This segment is an interesting look into the penal system and an outsider’s apathy toward the incarcerated, through excessive YouTube videos exploiting interrogations, security footage, and psychological evaluations. Then, of course, there is the Freemason episode, “Cephalopod Lodge.” Outside of Squid’s vain searching, this episode is clearly just Nickelodeon flexing their muscles, showing that Dan Shcnieder has Paramount and CBS and all those other Elite Pizzagaters behind his back, so no squealing, Britney! Whoops, better move on, no one show KanYe this. Mr Krabs has a mid-life crisis for an entire episode, as only boomers do nowadays.The marketing team tricked kids to watch a “lost episode” with everyone (myself included) thinking it would be a video nasty, but it was just a boring musical episode that no one liked, because even in the future no one likes musicals. And the list could go on, maybe in the next issue?

So what does it all mean? Nothing. No seriously, nothing. Just like our generation now. What does tradition, history, societal construction, religion, family ties, science, natural reason, culture, language, self-improvement, health, any of this stuff mean anymore if it doesn’t provide me with immediate and satisfactory pleasure? It’s all corrupt anyways, so what's the point? Spongebob Squarepants, while cleverly disguised as a kid’s cartoon, gave us all a window into the future of the new millennium, where instead of pushing the boundaries of what we can and can’t do, we eliminate the boundaries entirely and say “so what?”, while still keeping ourselves from a total anarchal revolution. In fact, you can thank Spongebob Squarepants for not giving us an American entirely on fire in 2020, because that’s just absurd. You go on working for GrubHub, stay single, watch porn, complain no one has discovered you yet, post your content on Instagram, complain more about others on the first issue of a zine, and do nothing to challenge or uplift the traditions passed on to you…I’m gonna get high and watch reruns of a show from 1999.

Adam Stynchula works in film production and goes by @Wafers3D to his cooler friends. He is also the designer of the zine layout.

originally published in cracks in pomo: the zine

Check out Adam’s appearances on Cracks in PoMo the pod here, here, and here.

Drawing by Vitaly Lopez @vitalyart__