Saturday morning cartoons are a part of mass media that has been continuously scoffed at by the academic world. It doesn't take a philosopher sitting up in an ivory university tower to realize cartoons are an important part of our society and our fragile social fabric. Most importantly, cartoons show how we — as caring, nurturing human beings — can relate and interact in the world we live in today.

Many cartoons explain (and exploit) my point.

To the average person who is untrained in the mysteries of interpersonal communications, Speed Buggy was about a racecar with a stutter, right? "Big race! Big race!" Speed Buggy would clamor merrily away to Tinker, his sidekick-driver. It all seemed rather wholesome and innocent to someone uneducated in these delicate matters, but in reality, something dark and secretive was churning and burning down in those metallic guts beneath that shiny, happy-go-lucky, orange hood.

You see, Speed Buggy secretly wished to be a woman (a Speed Buggyette, if you will). Yes, poor Speed Buggy. He knows all there is to know about "the crying game." This isn't me talking, folks, or even some "red state/blue state" nonsense that oozes into our politically correct culture on a daily basis. No; this is science.

Innocent Tinker never knew what Speedy Buggy really meant when the orange dune buggy would haphazardly inquire, "Are you going to drive me, today, Tink? Are you going to drive me today?" The racecar driver with the southern drawl never properly interpreted Speed Buggy's cries of "faster, Tink, faster!" as sexual frustration subversively disguised in the form of some NASCAR enthusiasm.

Oh sure, on the surface, an innocent Tide car racing around aimlessly in circles never seemed so tawdry, did it, kids? But then untrained laypersons can never truly understand the deep symbolism behind Speed Buggy, can they? Are you beginning to realize the ramifications of what I'm talking about now?

Scooby-Doo, one of the most popular cartoons of the 1970s (and beyond), set and reflected the social standards for that turbulent decade. Four youths and their talking dog traveled around the countryside in their psychedelic van solving mysteries, but as simplistic as that plotline sounds, there was much more to it than met the eye.

The gang solved mysteries week after week, yet never received an actual paycheck for their work. Simply put, they were five deadbeats who were opposed to getting conventional jobs. They were always on the run, constantly evading the draft board and the Vietnam War. Which would you rather face: an enemy soldier with an UZI or the Ten Thousand Volt Ghost? (The North Vietnamese Army used AK-47s, not UZIs, but the average communications major wouldn't know that, would they?)