I believe in the Flintstones. I believe early man shaved with a clam, moved about in stone cars powered by their feet, and listened to phonographs played on bird beaks. Wives used wooly mammoth trunks to vacuum fur carpets and wash stone dishes. I also believe that they spoke perfect English, and for some reason the names they chose for themselves were lithologically based.
And no one can tell me otherwise. Though the scientific evidence shows that man did not live with dinosaurs, I still believe. That would mean he couldn’t eat a brontosaurus burger or receive his post by pterodactyl or that a bird’s beak could not double for a phonograph needle. Tell me Ann Margrock and Stoney Curtis were just illusions, I’ll not listen. Cartoon Network told me so; it is infallible and so all my reality must be reconciled as such. I am told time and again, by friends, family and co-workers, that it was fictional prime-time television cartoon which ran on ABC in the 1960s and there was no place called Bedrock. The same people who would deny the Flintstones would have you believe that civilization began with the bite of an apple and that woman was created from a man’s rib. And that’s just nonsense.
And no one can tell me otherwise. Though the scientific evidence shows that man did not live with dinosaurs, I still believe. That would mean he couldn’t eat a brontosaurus burger or receive his post by pterodactyl or that a bird’s beak could not double for a phonograph needle. Tell me Ann Margrock and Stoney Curtis were just illusions, I’ll not listen. Cartoon Network told me so; it is infallible and so all my reality must be reconciled as such. I am told time and again, by friends, family and co-workers, that it was fictional prime-time television cartoon which ran on ABC in the 1960s and there was no place called Bedrock. The same people who would deny the Flintstones would have you believe that civilization began with the bite of an apple and that woman was created from a man’s rib. And that’s just nonsense.