Posts Tagged ‘smug’


I’d Like to Ruin TV for You: Monday Night Edition

It’s August, and that means many things. Back to school season has begun, summer is heating up and winding down simultaneously, the frantic end-of-summer romances are burning and fizzling, and Waldorf Van Buren looks forward to the Fall Television Season.

I’m terribly bitter about television shows being axed and ground off the air by merciless executives with no compassion or TASTE. Every year I shed a tear when Fox allows chum like American Idol to grease the screens but nixes quality shows like Firefly. (Yes, I’m still horribly bitter about the Firefly cancellation). So, I’m not going to get involved too much with anything this season; not going to get hooked by anything that the networks might tempt me with. Instead, I will simply discard everything before I’ve even watched a single episode.

Today, I will deal with the Monday prime time lineup.

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I’d Like to Ruin Television for You: Tuesday Night

Television doesn’t return the love I’m giving it. Yes, it’s tough love, but it would still be nice for TV to give in and grant me a little love. It doesn’t look like Tuesday night will be the night d’amour. No, it will be, in my opinion (which you should view as having the strength of supported fact), just another torrent of shit in an otherwise staticky world.

I’ll begin with a second word about Monday night – sucks. Okay, that out of the way, I’d also like to reconsider Samantha Who? Perhaps I was a little harsh, I’ll give it a second chance, if only that I genuinely like Christina Applegate without ever having met her. I’m not even three degrees of Kevin Bacon from her. Four maybe, but not three. And Chuck I’ll get on Netflix and give it a go. But keep in mind, I’m writing this without actually ever having seen the shows in question. It’s all opinion masked as some sort of snarky journalism. Kind of like Fox News.

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I’d Like to Ruin TV for You: Primetime Thursday

When I was a lad of just fourteen, an Irish priest came to visit my class to speak to us about the possibility of receiving Holy Orders and joining the priesthood. That’s not important or relevant. What is important AND relevant is that the Priest, with his Irish accent, didn’t pronounce the ‘th’ in third as a ‘th’ sound at all, but a hard ‘tuh’ sound, thus turning every “third” into “turd.” As a fourteen year old, I found this unendingly amusing. As a thirtysomething (turdysomething) with a fourteen year old mentality, I still find it amazingly funny, and appropriate when discussing this Fall’s Thursday’s (Turdsday) TV lineup.

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I’d Like to Ruin Television for You: Friday Night Fight

Okay, so the past few TV posts have lacked a certain amount of. . . humor. Trust me, I don’t find raking through the muck of television land any funnier than you do. It’s a chore. That, and my left testicle ran away. Rolled, actually. I think it was demanding more exercise, so I slapped it and it fell off, rolled down the couch, across the floor, and into the garden. That’s how devoted I am to you, dear reader. I dropped my left nut for you.

ABC hasn’t shown any signs of life on Friday night since the days of Urkel and Mr. Belvedere or, as I like to call it, the decline of Western Civilization. This year is no exception, and the quality has slid down the slippery piffle slope at an accelerated pace. Again they give us Wife Swap, which has two families swapping wives, but the swapping is less Swingtown and The Ice Storm and more like trading chlamydia for crabs. After an hour of yelling, crying, broken bottles, thrown furniture and a lot of swearing, I decided that I should calm down. It’s only a television show. At ten o’clock is the fairly reliable, yet outdated 20/20, whose usefulness came to an end with the advent of Ashleigh Banfield and Anderson Cooper. It’s a Neanderthal process in a Cro-Magnon world.

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I’d Like to Ruin Television for You: Oh Those Midseason Blues

Talking about midseason shows and replacements on Network TV is a little like trying to channel a trendy Nostradamian figure while trying to stay away from the syrupy ickiness of an E! News (quite the contradiction) “host.” I will attempt to guide you through the muddle of Fall and into the “Shroud of Midseason.” While some networks have cemented schedules of certain shows that they KNOW will be coming back, there is also an unknown factor mixed with guesswork and a little transmutation, much like the wok of a crazed alchemist/psychic farting around with capacitors and transistors.

I am delaying. It’s true. I’m trying to find words that will soothe and make it all better. I want to apply a Band-Aid brand Band-Aid to the seeping wounds caused to our psyches by popular entertainment. I’m stumbling, I know, and I’m fishing for sharks in a pond with a piece of gum on frayed twine. I suppose I’ll start with the known quantities.

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