Esther McCarthy: 'The Simpsons' is always there for me if I need a televisual hug

The Simpsons is still my comfort watch

Do you have a comfort show? One you can throw on like a cosy fleece blanket, all nostalgia and predictability, and it just makes you feel better?

For me, it’s The Simpsons. Those yellow fellows were a seminal part of my formative teenage years. My mam went to Seattle in 1990 and came back with a Simpsons jumper. White, fleece-lined, with a big Bart on the front.

And I thought I was bad to the bone, no doy, it was bitchin’, yo. I had a mad perm, proper mad, like electrocuted mattress springs, and zero sense of style — which might explain why I loved that jumper.

But it was unique in Cork in 1990. Ah, that crazy year, when Paula Abdul sang about sharing a bed with animated feline MC Skat Kat, which led to much confusion for a 12-year-old me and an unfounded mistrust of tom cats. Billy Joel was adamant that we knew he had absolutely nothing to do with starting that fire, and thanks to Snap’s The Power video, we all spent hours trying to achieve the impossible — making a high bump pony tail and shell tracksuit look cool. I had a purple, crinkly one — the tracksuit, not the hairstyle, as the perm made it near impossible, but it didn’t stop me trying.

Homer Simpson strangling Bart.

But no one else had Bart emblazoned on their clothing. Remember, these were pre-buy-literally-anything-your-little-brain-can-think-of-with-one-click days, pre the ‘Buy Like a Billionaire’ baloney of ultra-fast fashion sites. Choice and supply were slim back in the day.

Everyone had the same goldie-embossed fireside box, biscuit tins, silver bowls for ice-cream, tea towels — and the same Soda-Stream, if they were really lucky.

We had analogue and landlines, and perfected pressing ‘Play’ and ‘Record’ in unison if we liked a song on the radio. We Gen Xers learned to navigate our realities before everything became Googleable. We looked forward to stuff because we didn’t have the internet in our pockets to make us simultaneously blasé yet constantly stimulated.

I’d count down the days to Sunday when The Simpsons aired on Sky at 6.30pm. I’d inhale every detail, then go into school Monday morning and go through the episode quote by quote with other Simpsons fans... or anyone who’d listen, really. The poor caretaker took to hiding in the toilets to avoid the Groundskeeper Willie monologues.

Sigh. If only I’d applied as much mental focus on my science, it could have been me blasting into space instead of that Katy Perry wan. Ooh, remember the episode when Homer goes into space?

Homer Simpson went to space in a 1994 episode of The Simpsons

Actually, this is a very good example of how the show was always ahead of its time.

They did seem to eerily predict the state of the world. Back in the ’90s, it all seemed like surreal satire: the idea of an orange president instead of a yellow one; a global pandemic originating in Asia; the Shard; and Disney owning everything from Marvel to The Simpsons itself. Yet all came to pass.

In 1994, Homer is sent to space in a bid to boost the public’s waning interest in Nasa. It was a hilarious skewering of media desperation, spin doctoring, and the absurd lengths institutions will go to for relevance. Sound familiar, Blue Origin?

While we had Katy Perry weightlessly spinning her playlist, 30 years previous, Homer was floating through a shuttle and spilling a bag of potato chips ( Careful! They’re ruffled!) in zero gravity set to The Blue Danube. Both turned out to be pretty iconic visual gags. When popstars, politics, and public spectacle intersect, even space exploration can become a farce.

The young folks now will never know the exquisite joy of reward for patience. They are used to instantaneous gratification when it comes to their entertainment, and even then they’re watching TikToks while the telly is on. And, in my view, they are not the better for it.

Lisa and Homer Simpson

As of this month, The Simpsons has aired over 750 episodes across 36 seasons, solidifying its status as the longest-running primetime series in American TV history. My kids watch it sometimes, either flicking through the channels or they might seek it out on Disney. I can only quote up to about season eight — that’s when I reckon the golden era slipped away.

The early years had a real magic: a perfect blend of slapstick and social commentary.

They could parody The Shining in one breath and skewer the US healthcare system in the next. And, somehow, it felt universal. Even for us, frizzy-haired Irish teens shopping at Quinnsworths instead of 7-Elevens, because there was a relatability in Lisa’s idealism, Mr Burns’s evil capitalism, and Homer’s incompetence.

Watching it with my kids, all these years later, it feels less like a series and more like an archive.

A long-running, very funny, inside joke on life, with inventive structure, biting satire, and genius genre parodies thrown in for good measure.

A reminder of a simpler time. One that I’m so glad I was a part of. And I know it’s always there for me if I ever need a televisual hug.