By Patricia Gallagher Newberry
Enquirer contributor

As a responsible parent, I feel compelled to pan Captain Underpants.

After all, page after page, book after book of the Captain Underpants series glorifies all that offends the truly moral, mature and modern mother.

I mean, really, children should not be exposed to the crude, rude antics of George and Harold, the "CU" protagonists, or their comic-book creation, principal-cum-superhero Captain Underpants.

Consider: George and Harold are the school troublemakers. They terrorize the lunch ladies, tricking them into making exploding cupcakes. They ruin the school football game, putting bubbles in the band's instruments. They generally torment poor Principal Krupp, forcing him to confiscate their slingshots, whoopee cushions and fake doggy do-do.

Captain Underpants himself, while allegedly a Good Guy, likewise demonstrates questionable character, traipsing around in nothing but his briefs and occasionally whipping even those off to fling at a Bad Guy.

The books also incorporate - apparently for humorous affect - atrocious spelling and grammar.

Captain Underpants, as the book-banning crowd might say, has little redeeming value.

To avoid a rush to judgment, though, I took my fears to the experts - second-graders I caught reading Captain Underpants, en masse, one day.

Why, I asked, are so many children - the series, launched in 1997, now has 29 million copies in print - so enamored with the Great Underweared One?

"Because he's saving the world," said Jon.

"Because he says 'tra la la' when he turns into Captain Underpants," added Grace.

"Because he's a Captain," offered Dallas.

Yes, but what about the language? And the violence? Not to mention the boogers!

To which Wiley replied: "He's funny!"

Finally, Jon provided the critical interpretation I was after, allowing that his parents don't much care for the "nasty stuff." And my own son, A.J., clinched the deal, explaining in excruciating (and gross) detail how George and Harold fooled their nemesis, Melvin Sneedly, into washing his hands in the toilet.

Aha! Busted!

Still, I continued my investigation online, searching author Dav Pilkey's Web site for clues of a plot to pollute the young minds of America.

Just as I thought: He wants kids to cheer for the class clowns. He wants them to stand up to mean teachers and punitive principals. He wants them to know that even if they get labeled as hyperactive, ADD school troublemakers, they might be able to draw and write and read and joke themselves through life and end up doing something really cool - like producing 10 best-selling Captain Underpants books and another 35 or so that do pretty well with kids, too. He wants them to know they could be the next Dav Pilkey.

Well, I for one, am appalled! aghast! outraged! that he uses belching and boogers and even coarser corollaries to entice our young people to read. What shame, what depravity, using flip-o-rama shenanigans to keep our youngsters up past bedtime begging for just one more Captain chapter.

I'm likely to burn my son's entire CU collection very soon, and then launch a national campaign against future sales.

Yes, I'm gonna take down the so-called Waistband Warrior and his nefarious creator - just as soon as I get through the most recent Pilkey masterpiece and stop howling with laughter.

E-mail patti@marriedwchildren.com.