"Flintstones, meet the Flintstones, They're a modern stoneage family."


(Yuck! What a gross idea...)


"From the, town of Bedrock, They're a page right out of history."


(Umm...no, they aren't. Not even close. Get real.)


Let's ride, with the family down the street, Through the courtesy of Fred's two feet.


(Must we?)


When you're, with the Flintstones, Have a yabba dabba doo time, A dabba doo time, You'll have a gay old time!


(sigh....)


This insufferably suburbanite show managed the bizarre travesty of transporting early 1960s American Los Angeles suburb culture of the dumbest sort imaginable into what purported to be the "Stone Age". Shockingly crass and cliched in every respect, this show turned everything it touched into crap. Even as a kid in 1962 I knew something was terribly, terribly wrong with the whole premise. It smelled like cheese gone way rancid. I did somewhat like Dino the frenetic dinosaur pet, but everyone else on the show was annoying in the extreme. I wanted to kick Fred every time he opened his big mouth! I wanted to see Wilma and Betty have their damned charge cards shredded before their eyes and be made to work frikkin' HARD in a little Mexican village for a year, washing clothes by hand down at the river and making refried beans three times a day under the hot sun. Barney? I just felt sorry for the poor, pathetic, downtrodden little schmuck. He should have kicked Fred in the nuts and left the show. Watch it again now for a look at just how tawdry and vapid North American culture can get as it superimposes its lowest, stupidest values on other times and places in human history. Horrifying.