Showing posts with label tv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tv. Show all posts

Sunday, May 26, 2013

What would I have made a mistake about? 5 Things Arrested Development got wrong. (WRONG!)


WRONG! is a new feature here where I take something from pop culture and debunk it.  And since today is Arrested Development Day! I'm taking a cold hard look at the facts...?... of that series.


1.  The Securities Exchange Commission does not have boats.

In the pilot, the Bluth family boat is chased down by SEC boats, kicking off the premise of the entire series.  But nothing could be further from the truth!  The SEC does not have boats, as explained by this actual quote from the actual head of the actual SEC in the actual 2006 Vanderbilt  address about what the SEC is like:

 I became convinced that the SEC had gone mainstream when it was featured on the Simpsons a couple years ago.1 Homer unwittingly gets caught up in a company gone bad. The SEC swoops in and arrests him, and he gets sent to prison. But, unlike the depictions on this and other shows, we do not carry M-16s, chase down yachts of inside traders in SEC police boats, or parachute James Bond style into illicit corporate board meetings. It is much tamer than that. We don’t carry guns; we have no boats; we have no planes. We do not even have authority to arrest people.


If you are disillusioned by the fact that your favorite TV series began with a lie, take heart by remembering that you can still get a job at the SEC, where your complete lack of power is offset by having a job in which you apparently spend all day watching The Simpsons.



2. They DO have bars in hospitals.

"This is why people hate hospitals," Lucille tells Michael when Michael breaks it to her that she can't wait in the hospital bar.  ("Key Decisions, Season 1, ep. 4).

Michael is wrong, at least according to this 2011 article about a proposal to put a bar in the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne, and why not put a bar in a children's hospital? Do parents have to be dedicated and responsible and loving and not drunk ALL THE TIME? COME ON!



Looking over the site for the actual hospital, it appears that the bar is not in the hospital.


 But they do have a 2-story aquarium and a collection of 9 meerkats.

All jokes aside, that is pretty awesome.


3.  The first frozen banana stand in California was NOT built in 1953 on Balboa Pier.  


It was built in 1940, on Balboa Pier.

Most sources you read say that the idea of a frozen banana on a stick began with the 1933 World's Fair.  That was the fair that followed up on 1893's "White City" World Exposition -- that 1893 one being the one with all the murders.

Not so in 1933, which was filled with fan dances by Sally Rand, Judy Garland and the Andrews Sisters performing at a mock Moroccan nightclub,  and a "midget city" which had sixty live babies in incubators.

No, really.

They really did that.  There was even a helpful booklet, "Your Questions About Midgets, Answered."  Which is ridiculous because nowadays we would never put up with the commercial exploitation of babies.

or women.

Why everyone says the frozen banana idea came from the 1933 thing, I don't know.  There were lots of other cool things at that fair -- which, coincidentally (?) began on May 27, 1933, almost exactly 80 years ago -- such as the fact that they used the light from the star Arcturus, shone on a photoelectric cell, to flip the switches, turn on the lights, and officially kick off the Fair.  

As for the banana thing? The Smithsonian a few days ago did a whole blog about the story, detailing how the first guy opened his stand on Balboa Pier in 1940, and then had another stand open directly across from him in 1963, and especially how Mitchell Hurwitz actually worked at one of the stands. (The second stand may not have opened until the first was closed by the health department.)



4.  Lawyer is NOT "Latin for liar,"

as GOB tells Michael in Season 1, episode 17, while he's trying to convince Michael to have a one night stand with someone.  But lawyer doesn't mean liar, except in real life whenever the word is used.  It means "person who laws," according to the Online Etymology Dictionary:

late 14c. (mid-14c. as a surname), from Middle English lawe "law" (see law) + -iere. Spelling with -y- first attested 1610s (see -yer).

So from the 14th through 17th centuries, there were laweiers.  There were also attorneys, who were too dumb to know how to spell the word that described what they did.  The word "attorney" comes from French, atorne, which means "to appoint," so an "atorne" is someone you appoint to do stuff for you.  As that same online dictionary points out:

The double -t- is a mistaken 15c. attempt to restore a non-existent Latin original. 
"Mistaken" being a polite way to say "you were trying to be all fancy, and you failed."



5. Someone is already planning to build a city on the water.

Part of the third season revolves around Michael's relationship with Charlize Theron


who wasn't mentioned here just to show that picture of Charlize Theron.  She was mentioned here to show this picture of Charlize Theron:


but also was mentioned because she had the idea to build a city on the water, which sounds so crazy it just might work, if you are a Japanese corporation thinking of growing a city on the water.

The Green Float Concept is an idea being developed by the Shimuzu Corporation.  It is a city built on lily-pad like "cells" that would house a central tower and outlying lower townhouses, and would float around and/or join up with other floating cities to form countries, countries which could simply drift to whatever shoreline they want and hang out there for a while, not unlike Cousin Eddie.


Since most of the technology needed to make a Green Float city doesn't exist,  yet, the company's got a way to go, but they're shooting for a 2025 opening day.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Off The Top Of My Head: Every Christmas Episode Of Every TV Show I Can Remember Without Looking Them Up (and their plots)

The other day, I watched every single episode of The Office that dealt with Christmas, a task that was far harder than it ought to have been.  Why don't TV show producers put those out at this time of year, on Netflix or pay-per-view or something, all in a neat package?  And why, for Pete's sake, are we still not able to just watch any TV show from any era at any time?  Why, in short, can I not see Herman's Head online anytime I want?  Stupid future.  I hope the Mayans were right.  It would serve you all.

That got me thinking, though: How much of an impact on me did TV show Christmas episodes make? Are they lodged as firmly in my brain as the song lyrics to If I Had A Boat, by Lyle Lovett?  I love that song:


So here goes: all the episodes I can remember without researching:

1.  Modern Family: the episode where they hold Instant Christmas or whatever it's called because everyone's going to be away on the 25th.


2.  Friends: The episode with the Holiday Armadillo.  Also there was one where Rachel was giving stuff she could steal from the office and Ross said "Should everyone expect presents you can steal from your office?" and she said "You shouldn't," because they were fighting that season.

3.   Growing Pains:  They had a Christmas episode.  I don't remember the plot.

4.  Family Guy: the Christmas episode where Brian and Stewie fill in for an exhausted Santa and kill someone in their house is what got me to start watching the show again.  They also had that one where Peter wanted to watch A KISS Christmas which was about a pterodactyl.

5.  Seinfeld:  I can count Festivus, right? Because it was about Christmas, partially?

6.  Futurama did those episodes with Robot Santa terrorizing people.  I think there were two.

7.  The Simpsons:  They got their dog, Santa's Little Helper, when Homer bet the Christmas money at the racetrack, losing it but taking the dog he bet on as a present.  That episode changed the usual arc of a Christmas story by taking a family, making them worse off, then not quite putting them back exactly where they started and calling it a happy ending, because the Simpson family was a little worse off, if you ask me.  I don't want to own a dog.

8.  The Office which honestly I don't know why this wasn't first since I mentioned it in the header but they did a bunch of them including this years, with Dwight's weird Santa.  The best one was the classic Dutch Christmas episode where Michael got Ryan an iPod and they all kept trying to trade presents.  That was The Office at its greatest.

9.  Spongebob Squarepants:  I know he had a new special out this year but we started watching it and the first few minutes was a claymation thing that was boring (to me) and frightening (to Mr Bunches) so I'm not counting that one; I'm counting the one where Spongebob finds out about Santa and all of Bikini Bottom writes letters to Santa, who then doesn't show up and Squidward has to pretend to be Santa because Spongebob cries.  It had a really good song in it.

10.  Phineas and Ferb: Again, they had a Christmas episode and again I can't think of what it was.  How can I remember that a thing exists without remembering a single thing about that thing? Way to be on the ball, brain.

11.  Didn't Three's Company have to have a Christmas episode?  I want to say they did but my mind is a blank.  So the list is done and I'm going to go look that up...

 ...they did:  It was called Three's Christmas.  Wikipedia, which I am really starting to rely on despite my longstanding skepticism of it, says:

The trio decides to celebrate Christmas at home because they haven't been invited to any parties, even by their neighbors the Stevens. The Ropers invite them downstairs for a party, and they accept, but moments afterwards the Stevens call to reconfirm their invitation to the party, which must have gotten lost in the mail. Jack and Janet want to go, but Chrissy makes them go to the Ropers. The evening is spent listening to Roper sing silly songs, till finally the kids are able to excuse themselves. They go off to the Stevens' where they run into the Ropers, who also found out too late that they had been invited. Roper had spent the evening trying to bore them into leaving so he and Helen could go to the party. 

That sounds awesome.  It's the true spirit of Christmas: not being able to stand being around the people you are around.




PS:

Growing Pains DID have a Christmas episode:

"A depressed department store Santa consulting Jason decides to commit suicide by leaping down the Seavers' chimney."

FESTIVE!  I couldn't find it online, so here's a Kirk Cameron Ice Capades video I haven't watched:



Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Everytime a sitcom dies, Google collects another soul: Unironic, Narrowcast Xmas Specials That Ought To Exist Since A Dr. Who Special Does, Apparently.

So I don't know what this is:


but it is apparently a big deal because the Internet, which tends to get all caught up in things that I know nothing about forcing me to try to find out at least a little about them so that I can then say to people in my office "What, you didn't know about that? I thought everyone knew about that!" and make myself seem... cool? No, that's not the word.

That video is for something called the "Dr. Who Christmas Special," or maybe it's not, because to be honest, my "research" for this introduction was limited to

1.  Going to Youtube

2.  Typing "Dr. Who Christmas Special" into the search bar.

3.  Pasting the first video I found.
 So if it's not the video for the "Dr. Who Christmas Special" then don't blame me, blame Google, because if you blame Google they will know it and they will make sure that every search you ever do, no matter what you type in, leads to some terrible result that will get you fired.

That -- Google's ability to screw you over if you make fun of them -- is something I surmised existed from a recent episode of Up All Night, that TV series that I think was briefly on this fall starring Christina Applegate:


and other people who aren't her.

The premise of Up All Night is that Christina Applegate:


and one of those other people are married and have a kid but here's the catch: they used to be cool and go out a lot and now they don't, and so every show revolves around a weird mixture of them trying to do parent-y stuff like make videos of their kids and/or be in a warehouse with their brother-in-law (I didn't really follow the plot of that one) and also their trying to be young and hip even though they are...

get this...

not young OR hip.


Wacky!

Anyway, on the episode of Up All Night I watched the other day when I was, ironically (?) up all night with a toothache, Christina Applegate's


ex-boss, Ava, said something and the people in the room all decided to look it up on the Internet, and all three of the people in the scene began chanting "Search engine it! Search engine it!" and I couldn't decide if that was some sort of ironic (?) commentary on people saying Google it or if they wanted to say Google it but couldn't because of some sort of trademark-y thing, the way nobody can say a name brand on TV, and then I got distracted by thinking "there must be a lot of search engines out there and you couldn't get even one to let you use their name in that scene?  Really?"

I think that might be the new moment for determining when a sitcom dies: when they cannot even get Ask Jeeves to let them use their name in a scene.*

*Apparently, Ask Jeeves no longer exists.  You know how I found that out? I googled it.  Irony! (?)

So this is not about Up All Night.  This is about something called the Dr. Who Christmas Special existing, and also about the fact that I know who Dr. Who is without ever having seen a Dr. Who show, without knowing anyone who has ever seen a Dr. Who show, and without even knowing someone who knows someone who... you get the point.  Somehow, Dr. Who exists in my consciousness the same way Lady Gaga goes, but not for the same reasons:



Lady Gaga is in my consciousness, and probably yours, the way nitrogen is in the atmosphere: for no apparent reason, but taking up tons and tons of space and doing not much of anything of value.  Although to be fair, I believe that nitrogen might help keep our atmosphere from spontaneously combusting every time we light a campfire.  I'm not sure if I read that in an article or just thought it up one night, but now, in the crystal-clear light of day, illuminated by a cake-saturated Lady Gaga, it makes sense: if our atmosphere were pure oxygen, wouldn't the entire Earth have exploded the first time something burnt?

Makes sense to me.

If a Dr. Who Christmas Special can exist, to appeal to those 13 people who write for Boing Boing and who go nuts every time someone on Etsy issues a hand-painted shot glass featuring a Dalek, then what other Christmas specials could exist to cater to a narrow, barely-existing market that shouldn't be forgotten in these days of giant conglomerates overwhelming us with their "Holiday" specials that begin on November 1 and their Black Friday specials starting on Thanksgiving practically during the Lions game that nobody but author PT Dilloway is watching**

**that is an unpaid promotion.  If PT is like Google and those other people who wouldn't let Up All Night use their search engine names, then future archived versions of this post will read "nobody but AUTHOR is watching.

and all those other things that corporations do that we hate, because pretending to hate corporations is good for business which is why I just went on that little diatribe, if all those things, then I might finally get to the premise of this post which is, if you remember the title, me giving you ideas for

Unironic, Narrowcast Xmas Specials That Ought To Exist Since A Dr. Who Special Does, Apparently. 

 which is to say: There are a lot of barely-known, little-remembered things in pop culture, and if Dr. Who gets a Christmas special, why shouldn't they? So I will write the premise for them, and Hollywood will take it from there, and I will get paid.  That's how it works, right?

Let's start with:

Christmas At This Moment: A Billy Vera and The Beaters Christmas Variety Show!


There's not a chance that you are not right now remembering the overwrought, overwhelming performance that catapulted not just Billy Vera, but the Beaters, too, to the top of the charts in 1980-something-or-other.  An entire generation of kids listened to this song and thought Oh my God, I can't wait to fall in love and then have her break my heart because she loves someone else so that I can then wander around a rainy alley in New York City or maybe Boston, listening to this song FULL BLAST on my WalkmanTM and crying.  

And yet, At This Moment, despite defining what heartbreak should be for a brief period of time in 1980-something, has dropped away from our consciousness, having not been used (so far as I can tell) in any TV show, movie, or other visual reference since it was the background music for a Family Ties very special episode:


The Set-Up:  Christmas variety shows, as Stephen Colbert so accurately noted, always involve a celebrity on an obvious stage set with a minimum of plot driving forward guest appearances, so let's go with:  Billy Vera is all set to do his voice-over work that he's known for these days, but when he's asked to do the voice-over as Santa on "Corporations Are People, Too: A Very Citizens United Christmas," in which Santa gets bought out by SantaCo, he has a crisis of conscience and has to decide whether he'll take the money and live large this Christmas, or stand up for the true meaning of Christmas***

***Something about egg nog, I think.  I've lost track.

Billy would then be greeted by obscure special guest stars, like character actor Lewis Smith, who appeared with Billy in the hit (?) movie (?) The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension:


and at the end, would gather up the star-studded cast for a singalong, Christmas-ized version of At This Moment, featuring the lyrics:

I'd fall down 
on my knees
find my present
under the Tree:
you, with a bow on
For...
Me....

Is that not doing it for you?  Perhaps you're not the musical variety-show type.  Well, then, how about a very special episode of a sitcom? Something like

Andy Richter, PI, Controls The Universe Via His Quintuplets (At Christmas!)



Who doesn't love Andy Richter and his many wacky sitcoms?  Apparently, everybody, as Andy has repeatedly made the attempt to escape the gravitational pull of Conan O'Brien's cowlick, only to be sucked back into secondbanana-ing a guy whose show can't do any better than TBS.  

I have always been a fan of Andy's, and I loved his show Andy Richter Controls The Universe, which gave me one of the favorite swear words that I use secretly when I am driving because officially I don't swear. *4

*4: The word is asspods.  As in "which one of you asspods turned me in.

but my love of Andy's shows is not shared by other people, and so Andy is sufficiently obscure to serve as a counterpoint to a Dr. Who Christmas Special, while also being able to revive that great 80s tradition of Very Special Christmas Episodes of TV shows, the kind of episodes that would begin by looking out the window of Alan Thicke's house as snow falls, or with Tim Allen coming in from shoveling snow and in either case someone announcing that despite all the snow falling, they just had to get to the Mall to buy that last present for their boss, or some such.

After a series of mishaps, the entire cast of the show would end up huddled in the cab of the tow truck that had itself gotten mired in the swamp trying to pull out the car, and they would at first bemoan their fate, until the truck driver told a story about how his grandpa would have loved to be around on Christmas but he'd gotten drafted for World War II and spent his Christmas getting shot at in France, and then the driver would share his special egg nog recipe and everyone would step outside the cab where fake snow was falling around them and look up and see a star shining brighter than all the others.

*Sigh*.  Remember when Christmas was special because our president wasn't a Muslim who had unleashed God's wrath on us by secretly gay marrying someone in college?

The Set-Up: I'd go with what I wrote up there.  But with more wackiness.

If music and sitcoms aren't your thing, perhaps I could interest you in a little Xmas Xooking?  Everyone loves a celebrity chef, right? And we've got tons of them, what with that big lady who doesn't do charity and that one guy with the hair, plus probably Rachael Ray still cooks, doesn't she?

She sure does. 
The problem is that most celebrity chefs are pretty well-known and/or really really annoying and insufferable, so to get one that's truly as obscure as the aptly-named Dr. Who, I went way back in history and found this guy:

 Who is not as cleavage-y as Rachael Ray but who was, nonetheless, the first-ever celebrity chef.  That guy is Bartolomeo Scappi, who was the personal chef to Popes Pius IV and V.  I am not sure where those popes fit into the Pantheon of Popes -- good? bad? indifferent?-- but they were Popes and so that probably constitutes putting the Christ back in Xmas.

Bartolomeo's cookbook was called Opera and had over 1,000 recipes, some of which are a bit impractical today; he recommends, for example, using the liver of a goose "raised by Jews," but you could use this recipe for Tortelli, which are a doughnut-ball eaten at "Christmas and carnival."

Per far minestra di tortelli d'herba alla Lombarda
Piglinosi biete, & spinaci, taglinosi minute, & lavinosi in piu acque, & strucchi fuori l'acqua, faccianosi soffriggere con butiro fresco, & con esse ponasi a bollire una brancata d'herbe odorifere, & cavinosi, & ponganosi in un vaso di terra oo di rame stagnato, & giungavisi cascio Parmeggiano grattato, & cascio grasso, tanto dell'uno quanto dell'altro, & pepe, cannella, garofani, zafferano, uva passa, & uove crude abastanza; & se la compositione fosse troppo liquida pongavisi pan grattato, ma se sarà troppo soda, metavisi un poco piu di butiro, & habbiasi un sfoglio di pasta fatta nel modo che se dice nel capitolo 177. E faccianosi i tortelli piccoli, & grandi, facendoli cuocere in buon brodo di carne, & servanosi con cascio,. zuccaro, & cannella sopra.

 You won't even need a Jew!  But you will need beets and spinach, which you will then top with cheese, sugar, and cinnamon. Sounds like my mother-in-law's cooking! (Ba dum bum.  Don't forget to tip your waiters!)

The Set-Up: The Xmas Xooking special would resurrect... sorry, wrong holiday... some of Bartolomeo's recipes, prepared by the celebrity chefs of today, with intermittent performances from some opera guy or something ('cause duh, Italy!) because opera always sounds Christmas-y:


And did I mention celebrity chefs?


Can't emphasize those enough.

If, though, none of those do it for you, then all I've got left is An Animated Xmas, getting together long-forgotten cartoon heroes whose heydays have come and gone.  Heroes like

Jabberjaw:



 And Wonderbug:


and Grape Ape:


and they'd all get together and do something Christmas-y because the only way to make even more sure that everyone tunes into something than by slapping "Christmas" on it is to make sure that you somehow make it nostalgic, too.

Or, to put it another way:  Cobra C.L.A.W.S. are coming to town existed:




Have you heard about this?



It starts Friday! Click the picture for details!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The 8 Hottest Moms (Currently) On TV Shows... (MiniBest)

...and it only took me 1 1/2 months to get around to posting number two:

Link
I'm on the record as saying it's not just looks that make you attractive. Yes, Gloria from Modern Family is hot in an obvious way*

*obvious beauty is the worst, as Friends pointed out.



... but that's not what makes someone hot. Just like with Allana Harkin (who was elevated to the number one position by being funny, because funny +pretty > pretty only*),

*that's math, and math doesn't lie except when it pretends that dark energy exists


Gloria, as Sofia Vergara is primarily known for playing, has plenty of other attributes, like

1. She can shoot a gun. Which, I am opposed to guns, but let's face it, that's hot.
2. She's sneaky.





3. And, well, that's it.
4. Well, those things, plus this:




I mean, it's not all about personality.

Previously, On The Eight Hottest Moms (Currently) On TV Shows:

1. Allana Harkin





In Just Exactly How Life Looks you'll be introduced to unforgettable people living remarkable lives. Cowboys wander in a timeless desert. Scientists meet in secret to plot a new way to get attention, and money, from people. A man and his would-be lover try to find lions on safari, and more. The people and places in this book spring to life fully-formed and full of anxiety and imagination. They worry about the time they have had and the time they have left. They bury their loved ones and look for new friends. They talk and laugh and hope and cry and die, while their friends and family and enemies and Gods watch them, seeing, in their faces and actions and fears, a portrait of just exactly how life looks.

Click here to buy it on Amazon; or look for it on your Kindle!

Monday, August 29, 2011

The 8 Hottest Moms (Currently) On TV Shows #1 (MiniBest!)

Hopefully I'll finish this one...

"Dino Dan" is a show about a schizophrenic little boy who spends most of his time ignoring other little children, and his family, while wandering through a world filled with terrible, horrifying monsters that often approach him and sometimes threaten him.

And it's a kid's show.

Not making any of that up. Here's the promo:



"I'm a regular kid...it helps that I can actually see dinosaurs, even though no one else can. Some people say I have an active imagination, but from where I see things, dinosaurs are everywhere."

Watching the show -- which Mr Bunches, our youngest, loves -- is an exercise in sadness, as "Dino" Dan contorts reality to account for the fact that only he sees the dinosaurs around him. I imagine that the final episode is going to find "Dino" Dan standing in a bloody room, the corpses of his family around him, as police look on in horror and "Dino" Dan says "I'm telling you, it was the Corythosaurus!" Then they'll play those tapes of his on Nancy Grace.

What Dino Dan does have going for it is Dan's mom, whose character is called "Mom." That's her off to the right, there.

Here's how Mom is described on the official Dino Dan site:

Dan's mom is one cool lady. She's a police officer who loves doing physical activities. Weekends, she likes to make sure Dan and Trek get outside for outings like hiking, bike riding, and horseback riding. Dan gets his irrepressible energy from his Mom and she's very proud of him. But she can be a disciplinarian when she needs to be. Dan's mom will occasionally stand in the way of his dino adventures but that's because she wants him to do his homework, eat his broccoli, and get ready to go to Grandma's.

I added the emphasis; Nickelodeon does not emphasize the sexiness of its show's moms.

Mom is played by Allana Harkin, who has a blog, "Things Yelled Out In Public," and who, before she was a mom trying hard not to notice that she's going to have to medicate her son, was in a variety of TV shows, a sketch comedian, and who appears to know me, because she's got this picture:



On her website (where she's very funny), and I couldn't help but notice that the astronaut there is the same one that graces my Eclipse book trailer:




So I can only assume that Allana Harkin is a fan of mine, which is going to make Sweetie pretty jealous.

Here's Allana in costume from the play "First Hand Woman":



She played "Acceptance."

And I really do recommend reading her blog, which features "Movie Reviews By My Kid" and other very funny stuff.

And then, maybe give a little to help out "Dino" Dan. Just twenty cents a day can save a little kid.



On another note: I've watched about 15 episodes of Dino Dan with Mr Bunches so far-- like I said, hot cop mom -- and that is a scientifically representative sample, so what I am about to say has the cold hard feel of fact. You know what's missing from "Dino" Dan's imagination?

Velociraptors.

Further proof that they're made up and never existed. Velociraptors are the biggest lie ever foisted on a dinosaur-loving public.



Monday, June 20, 2011

The Best Thing That Pretty Much Is An Earlier Thing, Only Better.


If you read this post yesterday on my blog Thinking The Lions, then you know that I am really, really irritated by the fact that pop culture sucks.

And pop culture is you people, so to be more pointed, you suck, was kind of my thesis, although it was filtered more through the lens of "RachelInTheOC" and "Kevin Smith" and people like them suck.

I haven't calmed down any; I still think pop culture sucks, but I no longer solely blame you because I heard this morning about 1/5 of this week's This American Life and it began with Ira Glass interviewing a deaf guy who got cochlear implants and could hear for the first time -- and he was disappointed.

That's neither here nor there, although, funny story, when I first typed "neither here nor there" I accidentally misspelled here as hear, so I was ready to say that a story about a deaf guy being disappointed with the world of sound was neither hear nor there, which is kind of funny, right?

The point of the deaf guy story, as it pertains to this post, is that the deaf guy, as he was waiting for his implants, was wondering what it would be like to hear, and he couldn't imagine what that would be like, which is kind of a hard thing to even describe. I've always been able to hear, and so I can't really imagine what it would be like not to know what hearing feels like. I had to rely on this guy's description of what it was like to anticipate what hearing would be like, and then compare what hearing would be like to what hearing was actually like.

And then, when he could hear, this deaf guy didn't really like it -- because, it turns out, his brain wasn't prepared to hear. He'd never learned to hear the way we learn to hear, which included not learning how to tune out unimportant sounds. He found he could not focus if he was in a room with an air conditioner, because all those little sounds we hear around us -- people talking, the radio in the background, traffic in the distance -- are so familiar to us that our brain can sort among the important and unimportant ones and essentially ignore the unimportant ones.

This guy couldn't do that. Every sound was equally important to him, and it made it hard on him to live his life, so eventually he took out the implants and went back to not hearing.

What, you might ask, does that have to do with the fact that the world is filled with crappy writers like RachelInTheOC who nonetheless get lots of acclaim?

Everything.

We-- well, you, but I'm not blaming you, remember -- are not trained to filter out the noise of pop culture, especially now, especially when pop culture isn't so much just a small stream of input coming through little by little, but is this overwhelming explosion of information and experiences that surrounds us and is available at our fingertips constantly. Our brains have never been trained to make out what is really good and what is simply crap, and so we have no ability to do that and continue simply doing what we've always done.

In terms of the metaphor that I started this with, pop culture is sound, and we were born deaf and slowly grew to hear things, but before we learned how to manage those sounds, we jumped into the middle of New York City.

Okay, let me explain better.

In the olden days (before 2002), people relied on a limited stream of information to get their pop culture. Television started with only a few hours of programming a week, on only a few channels. Radio stations were limited and not on the air all the time.

Then, as options expanded, pop culture seemingly expanded, but it was still all being fed to us through conduits: We got cable television and videotapes, but those things were still released by gatekeepers, studios and production companies that decided, more or less, what we got to experience. Radio stations maintained tight formats and it was virtually impossible to hear music that didn't get the imprimatur of a major label.

So over time, we got used to having someone else decide what was good and what was bad, and the entire range of human endeavor was pared down to a manageable stream. Books were published by a few publishers and available at Waldenbooks at the mall and that was it. Newspapers and Dan Rather told us what was important in the world. If you were at the beach, you didn't know what people were talking about until you got home that night and watched the 10:00 news and learned what important things happened that day.

Then, instead of this little trickle of information, the world of pop culture went supernova, all of a sudden, and it really was sudden.

Consider: The first television broadcast ever was in 1928. It took 20 years before there were four networks broadcasting programs at some point during the week. Cable TV first became available in 1948 -- but it wasn't until the late 1970s and early 1980s that it became more widespread and common, and 60+ years after cable TV was invented, less than 60% of the households in America have it.

The Internet as a thing started in the 1960s. But personal computers weren't invented until the late 1970s and early 1980s, and the word "Internet" itself wasn't common until the late 1990s. The first popular web browser (Mosaic) was released in 1993.

Remember TV standards are 60 years to get to 60% saturation. The Internet took 18 years to go from "Hey, what's that thing?" to 1,970,000,000 global users. It grew at a rate of 109,444,444 users per year. If Cable TV grew at that rate, by now, 6, 894,999,972 people in the world would have access to cable, and all of them would complain that there was nothing on.

For the sake of accuracy, I will note that there are only 6,926,000,000 people in the world as of this moment.

How does this all factor in? Simple: The growth of the Internet is the equivalent of putting a cochlear implant into a previously deaf ear. For most of our lives, people had a trickle of entertainment that was predefined for them. Then, one day, we woke up and suddenly EVERYTHING WAS HAPPENING ALL RIGHT NOW AT THIS MOMENT AND IT'S AMAZING.

Instead of four or forty or even 400 channels, there were suddenly 400,000,000,000,000 things.

I may be exaggerating, but not by much: There were 182,000,000 websites in 2008, with the number having grown by nearly 3,000,000 per month. But some 6% of those websites were things like blogs, which are not made up of just one thing; they're made up sometimes of hundreds of things over time.

And confronted with that multiplicity of things, the vast majority of people just shut down.

The Internet made it possible for everyone who has a viewpoint to express it. Anyone who wants to publish a book can publish a book. Musicians were free to make their music without having a label or a radio station, and make lots of money. The Internet and computers made it possible for budding filmmakers to create films on a shoestring and have them viewed 6,485,000 times:



And also, unfortunately, made it possible for people to use the phrase "face raped" in conjunction with a discussion about whether or not it made sense for Jim Gordon to fake his death in The Dark Knight. But that's beside the point, too.

With all the possibility out there, then, why the #(#$&# do we still have to read tripe like "my kids don't like my music" and "Guess what!? Men hate doing housework?!"

I think it's because people took out their ears. Being unfamiliar with all the varying things that could constitute entertainment, and being unable to sort out the good from the bad, the familiar from the unfamiliar, the new from the old, most people just didn't bother trying.

I haven't finished that episode of This American Life yet, so I don't know why the deaf guy took out his ears. But I think it's sad that he felt so overwhelmed by a new sensation that he couldn't cope and deprived himself of 20% of his senses.

And I think it's sad that with great writers out there and great filmmakers out there and great musicians out there and great everyone out there, we are still spending all our time reading and hyping substandard crap like "RachelintheOC."

Why do we do it?

Because we never learned to hear and we don't want to now. Instead of learning how to sort out new from old, bad from good, up from macaroni, we -- you-- just decided to retreat into two basic types: things we're told to like, and things that look like things we've seen before.

That is, if enough people say to like something, we'll like it. And if something looks enough like something else, we'll like it. Which is why According to Jim and Two and a Half Men and RachelintheOC survive: because they don't just look like things we've seen. They're the very things we've seen. They don't even try to mask it: they just take the same idea, over and over, and show it to you again.

This is not a rant against familiarity. Remember, I'm the guy who said people actually like sequels a lot, and should. I'm the guy who said that the McDonald's cheeseburger is truly great, and invented the formula for proving it.

Familiarity breeds contempt only if familiarity is worthy of contempt, and that... THAT... is why RachelintheOC and Kevin Smith's Sweating To The Oldies and 99.9% of pop culture in general just makes me, when I think about it, lose my sh*t and spend an hour on Father's Day typing up a rant.

Because we're better than that. We shouldn't be reading and re-reading old Erma Bombeck columns ad nauseam simply because doing otherwise is too hard and too overwhelming, and because we shouldn't be doing that, we should either not read "RachelintheOC" and her ilk, or we should at the least demand that they put some effort into it.

I mean, seriously, if you're going to spend 10 minutes reading a blog post, shouldn't it be more than a recap of a mediocre episode of Modern Family with "Rachel" cut-and-pasted in place of "Claire?"

Okay, so not everyone likes stuff to be new and different the way I do; not everyone wants to be challenged all the time by great entertainment. Sometimes people just want familiarity. And, let's be fair: there are universal experiences that we all share and that are fun to talk about.

So what about those, you defenders of tripe might ask me. What about comedians who make jokes about early dating experiences, like Mike Birbiglia did on that same episode of This American Life, and you thought he was funny even though, like, a zillion people have joked about their first date with someone including Ira Glass on that very episode? Are you insisting that Mike and Ira never ever tell another joke about a first date?

No.

That's not what I'm insisting.

I'm insisting that if you revisit the well, you do it better.

If you can't find it in you to make something new or creative or inventive, if you must tell the same old joke again, at least for God's sake do it better.

David Sedaris is ludicrously funny -- but not everyone wants, all the time, to hear a story about how his efforts to upstage his boyfriend by pointing out that his boss had a rubber hand were thwarted by his inability to speak French. And not everyone can tell stories like that.

Another person who's ludicrously funny is Jim Gaffigan, who talks about the same old things everyone talks about: eating, church, holidays. But when Jim Gaffigan does it, he does it funnier and in a new way. When Jim Gaffigan jokes about how boring church is -- something many people have said over many eons -- he makes it seem fresh because he does it so well and in a new way.

There are, it's been said, only seven basic stories. Or maybe only two. I don't know. I do know that whoever said that did not include the basic story of how hard it is to be an assistant manager at an aquarium, so they were wrong in their count because really, that's an untouched-upon theme in literature that I'm just throwing out there for the universe, but I digress.

There are only a few basic stories. There are only 8 notes in the scale. There are only two food groups people should eat from (The two groups are "Deep-fried," and "Somehow related to Cap'n Crunch.") But from those basic building blocks, we create a wealth of songs and stories and movies and there are also at least four different kinds of Cap'n Crunch, so it's possible to keep on making things new.

I myself did that when one day I decided to make Rice Krispie bars, only to substitute Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch for the Rice Krispies in the recipe, and several sugar-induced comas later, society is the better for it.

So what I'm saying is, if you just want to do the same old thing, if you're going to make a blog (and call it, wrongly, edgy and snarky) that's just a mommy blog and write about how men really aren't very good at housework, at least do it with a bit of flair and make it seem new.

RachelintheOC, and Kevin Smith, did not do that. I was three words into their posts and I thought I know exactly where this is going and I don't have time to waste, and I quit.

And you people -- you who have shut your ears back off -- you should insist that if you're going to watch the same old thing, hear the same old thing, read the same old thing, that it at least for God's sake fix its hair up and put on a nice dress before you take it out to dinner. Marriages fail because people stop trying to impress their spouse, and civilizations fail because people stop insisting that its creative types actually give a sh*t about what they're creating and we end up with Justin Bieber and RachelintheOC dominating pop culture until we all die alone and friendless and, worse yet, bored.

Which brings me to Happy Endings.

Happy Endings
is, as you may have just realized, The Best Thing That Pretty Much Is An Earlier Thing, Only Better.

Happy Endings is about a group of friends, two of whom were romantically connected and may be again, two of whom are in a relationship, and one of whom is a kind of weird guy that has strange adventures. Which is to say, Happy Endings is Friends.

I'm not the first to remark on that and I'm not the only one who constantly thinks it. The moment I saw an ad for Happy Endings, I thought "hey, they remade Friends with someone more attractive than Ross in his part."

(Jennifer Aniston in her prime




and Casey Wilson in hers





are about a wash.)

But I watched Happy Endings anyway because here's the thing: I liked Friends. I liked it enough that from time to time I'd DVR a couple of episodes and watch them, laughing again at jokes I knew so well I could tell them by heart. "Take off your shirt and tell us!" I still use that in conversation, which is why there are so many restraining orders I have to keep track of.

So when I saw that Friends was essentially airing new episodes with younger people, I tuned in to see if I still liked Friends With New People.

Had Happy Endings simply been Friends, I'd have watched an episode and never gone back. But it wasn't just Friends. It was Friends only newer and funnier and hipper; it was the Friends who might exist (who do exist) now, as opposed to the 1990s Friends. These Friends, like the old ones, still drive food trucks (Monica and Phoebe had their catering van, Dave (?) has his food truck.) They still try to be hip when they're not. (Joey wanted to play young, Casey Wilson dated a hipster.) There are weddings about every third episode, as sitcom rules demand. They never seem to work, as sitcom rules demand.

But it's not just Friends all over again; it's Friends dressed up and with a new hairdo, trying to keep that spark going and impress me all over again. Maybe trying too hard sometimes, but still trying. Even when they recycle gags, they do so with a freshness that I appreciate.

Take the Apartment Across The Street gag. On Friends, the Apartment Across The Street was for a long time occupied by Ugly Naked Guy, and in one episode I remember, the Friends pieced together a bunch of chopsticks to try to poke Ugly Naked Guy and see if he was alive. For some reason I can't embed them, but you can watch a series of clips about Ugly Naked Guy here.

Happy Endings takes that same concept -- weird guy across the street -- but makes it seem fresh and new by having the weird guy be ugly, but somehow able to score with women at will, and also by having the New Friends shoot at him with Nerf guns or something:

... aaaaaaaaannnd I don't have a video for that.

Anyway, you get the point of that: it's the same idea, really: Young cool people live across the street from someone who is not as cool and is also nakeder, and make fun of him.

But it works in both contexts, which needs some working out, maybe, to understand how that can happen.

How is it that the same story line can be funny just by tweaking it? Is it just that chopsticks were replaced by Nerf guns and that's all I need?

Or is it more? Would it have been funny if RachelintheOC, instead of having her husband be difficult about doing her chores when she was sick, had her husband be difficult about filling in for her as a speaker at an indie book conference?

Well, yes.

I think had RachelintheOC begun her bland, tepid oatmeal of a post with "I was sick and so my husband had to go speak at an Indie Book Conference on my behalf but here's the thing -- he's no writer, he's a heart surgeon and so he ended up speaking about how it felt to actually hold a person's beating heart in his hand to all these bloggers," that WOULD have been funny and I'd have read it, even if the basic post boiled down to "Surgeon Hubby complains about having to do wife's work."

(I don't know if RachelintheOC's husband is a surgeon. I'm sure, though, that whatever he is, he's stereotypically and blandly that thing.)

Taking a familiar premise and tweaking it is what good writers do. Taking Ugly Person Across The Way and tweaking it is what good sitcoms do. Taking a good guitar riff and tweaking it is what good songs do -- not everything has to be purely original. It just has to be yours and seem fresh.

It's kind of the difference between leftovers and LEFTOVERS! The other day, I had LEFTOVERS!, by which I mean, I took the leftover Italian casserole that we had in the fridge, and I put it into a tomato-basil tortilla, with some cheddar cheese, and microwaved that, and then ate it, and instead of oh, here's some casserole I had something that was a little more interesting.

Happy Endings wraps Friends in a tortilla and nukes it: The episode playing in the background at my office right now is The Shershow Redemption, in which a woman who ran out on a wedding runs into a guy who is going to run out on his wedding -- which is how the whole Friends show began, right? Jennifer Aniston ran out on her wedding. So Happy Endings takes that concept and doubles down, throwing in some other tropes, too, to make that basic story (which was also done as The Runaway Bride and, in real life, by The Runaway Bride:









) seem fresh. And it did that even though Happy Endings also used the "friend as a minister" trope in that same episode.

But I still laughed -- just like I laugh when the same old story is given a new gloss in The Big Bang Theory and Modern Family, with good acting and a fresh coat of jokes, but I don't laugh when the same old story is run as a by the book, let's go through the motions sitcom on Two and a Half Men or According to Jim or That One Show With David Spade That's About Marriage But Which In Commercials Looks Like Every Other Show About Marriage.

Which after all, maybe doesn't need so much working out, because as I look back on this, I think the difference is effort.

If you're trying, it shows. If you're trying to do something well, it shows. Whether you're trying to do it in a new, unique, unusual, fresh way (like, say David Sedaris) or whether you're trying to do something that's very familiar but simply better, it shows. The gang on Happy Endings isn't doing anything particularly new or fresh; each episode probably tracks one or more earlier episode of Friends, but they're working really hard at it. They're not just re-reading old Friends scripts; they're putting two or three of them together and somehow fitting that into 20 minutes. They're upping the ante by updating premises and mixing old familiar tropes with new familiar tropes.

But they're working at it.

People like According to Jim, and RachelintheOC aren't even bothering to try. People like Jonathan Franzen aren't bothering to try. After a while, it began to seem like John Grisham wasn't bothering to try.

And they don't bother because you don't make them. I just clicked over, out of curiosity about how many hits she had, to RachelintheOC's blog, and was not at all stunned to be confronted with jokes about mancode and this turn of phrase:

Writing about men is fun. I adore men. They make me laugh. Why?

Well, for one thing they’re hairy. That alone is just funny.

And before I could put my hand through my monitor in frustration, I clicked away, but not before I saw the phrase dirty martini.

That blog might be the laziest f**cking thing I have ever read.*

*Is that enough, Rogue Mutt, or should there be more.

It's not even trying, and she'll probably get more hits today than I will in a lifetime

Because.

Of.

You.

Because you've taken out your ears and you're content to just read the same old sh*t and not even insist that it be dressed up with something new or fresh seeming. I could spit out crap like that simply by throwing a magnetic poetry kit at my wall, and I would, except that I'm not interested in being popular for popularity's sake. I'm not interested in being what is essentially a random cliche generator just to make money. I have a day job; I make a fine enough living at that and so I can do this for fun and not worry too much about whether or not you like it or you even read it.

But every so often, like this week, I get frustrated, because every so often I think For God's sake, people, why do you settle for junk? And I get frustrated that critics rag on Happy Endings and that great writers like Rogue Mutt can't find a publisher while A Walk In The Snark can republish Henny Youngman's routine under a female name and get onto bestseller lists, and I have to blow off steam.

And also I have to explain it, which I think I've done here. I thought about this yesterday while I walked around eating my orange chocolate chip ice cream and looking through castles with Mr F and Mr Bunches and Sweetie, and I thought about it while I ate burgers with Middle and Oldest, and I let it percolate through my brain as I drove into work listening to This American Life, and I think I've hit on it.

Things can be new and exciting. Or they can be old and familiar. Either of those are okay; like I said, I sometimes just watch old TV shows I've seen before, and I rewatched The Dark Knight Friday.

The problem is when someone takes something that's old and familiar and makes money off of it. If you're going to try to sell me me old and familiar, you ought to at least try to make it better. If you're going to sell me an old house, paint it first. If you're going to ask your wife on a date this Friday night (as I have), put on a nice shirt and shower before you go out, the way you used to when you were dating.

If you're going to have a bunch of young attractive people do weird funny stuff, work really hard at making it funny. The way Happy Endings does.

Because it's possible to make a living acting in According to Jim, and it's apparently possible to make a living recycling "snarky" cliches and calling them a blog, as Rachel does. But the fact that it's possible doesn't make it desirable. And maybe, if more writers and musicians and actors and directors stop taking the easy/RachelintheOC/Kevin Smith way out, then people -- you -- would stop letting them.

Or vice versa.

Either way, I'm going to continue watching Happy Endings, and I'm going to continue to write things that I find new and exciting and unique. And I'm pretty sure that you will continue to gravitate towards Rachel's latest "edgy" post -- probably something about how funny it is when moms try to work and raise kids (!) -- and let her, and the rest of society, off the hook of "trying."

You'll keep reading that crap, but I won't. And I'm the better for it. And as long as there's a few people out there who think like I do, I'll be able (with my like-minded people who insist that, if you can't come up with something new or original, the creative types at least try to make something feel new and original) to find something I like.

I'll have to sift through a lot of drivel and white noise and junk that you like, junk that Rachel and Kevin produce, but I'll find it.

I hope you, too, eventually start to think like me. Because no matter what that deaf guy said in This American Life, hearing is better than being deaf.

And no matter how much you think you like re-reading crappy cliches on RachelintheOC's blog, you only think it's great because you don't know any better. But that's your fault. You're the one who took your ears out and let them pass you a pile of mush and pass it off as something worth your while.

I won't waste my time with it anymore.

I'll be watching Happy Endings, and writing my stuff, and generally doing the best I can to ignore the steaming pile of garbage that is 99.9% of pop culture.