So I was at work yesterday, as I so often am, and was sitting around and I heard a song playing over the PA. Like so many brilliant moments in the history of thought experiments, one came upon me. I would say that I did not invent it, but I am certainly responsible for it. I think you will find it an enlightening experience. So sit back and join me: begin by getting the song "We Are Family" in your head. Focus in on the chorus, just repeat it over and over, the two most famous lines. "We are family. I got all my sisters with me. We are family. I got all my sisters with me." Now add a visual image, you've got three women singing the song, they are swaying back and forth in time with the music. They clap in rhytm as well. Let that run for a minute or two. Now, the experiment begins. Transform the women, singing the song, into sea cows. This is not intended to be a slight of these women, they aren't related. Don't read anything into it. Especialy not now, you need to be paying attention to the thought experiment. Concentrate. Three sea cows, swaying back and forth, singing the song. "We are family. I got all my sisters with me."
Now, substitue some lyrics. Here are the ones that immediately came to me, though I am sure there are more to be had.
"We are manatees.
We live in the Florida Keys.
We are manatees.
We are an endangered species.
We are manatees.
Do not hit us with your boat please.
We are manatees.
The basis for the mermaids are we.
We are manatees.
We feed of the weeds of the sea.
We are manatees.
In French you'd say our color is "gris""
Thats all I've got at this point. Enough of the thought experiment,
I now feel prepared to actually discuss the season finales which I believe are worthy of my attention. I don't know how quickly they will go, but I will begin with Monday nights. Mondays are in many ways like the number one. First, of all, they are the day of the week equivalent of the loneliest number. Secondly, if there was a day which, when multiplied by any other day, would simply equal that other day, that day would be monday. Finally, they are mostly made up of crappy reality programs. Fox used to run high quality reality TV on Mondays, but appear to have abandoned that in favor of replaying last season's Bernie Mac and The Swan. Don't get me too wrong, I TiVo The Swan and watch it in the course of approximately 15 minutes. I can't handle alll the surgery parts in the middle, so I just see how fucked up these people are, how much psychological help they truly need, and how huge they want to make their tits. Then I fast forward to see them at the end of the show. I may watch the pageant in its entirety, I don't know. Its an awful program, but delicious in its moral denigration. While you folks don't likely know it for Monday nights, Katie and I were priveleged enough by Canadian TV to enjoy the OC Mondays at nine. The OC officially wins my "best new show" of the year title, beating out The Apprentice. While I doubt Fox's summer line-up this time around will produce ingenious creations like Seth Cohen and Summer, but I willl provide them with the benefit of the doubt. The basic melodrama of the program let you know in advance that this season wouldn't end up happy, but as if to remain both the 13 Year Old Girl Crying and Indie Hip Teen Romance Champion, the final scenes of the show are set to Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujiah." That song could pretty much make Pol Pot weep by itself, but to see Ryan and Theresa driving away from the house, Seth hopping aboard his boat and sailing into one of the most beautiful ocean sunsets you can imagine, Marissa crying alone, lets just say that a box set of this episode should come with one bullet and a brain fluid clean up kit. Seth's conversation with Ryan, where he pretends not to care, right after we see him telling Summer about how Ryan is the only friend he's ever had besides Captain Oats, and tries to sell his boat, do everything he can to be there for Ryan. Fucking misty shit. The only bright side I can possibly find to the demise of Angel is that I don''t have to worry about three programs Wednesday at 9. Fucking WB.
Tuesdays are a different story. I obviously can't tell you much about how American Idol will work out, but I still have a strong feeling that Fantasia is gonna roll the lovely young Ms. Degarmo. I know there are alot of folks who have love for the blondie, and I respect her performance on disco night, but fundamentally she's just not quite as soulful or expressive as Orange Fanta. I will wait for Tuesday to speak further on AI. The other shows we watched on Tuesday are sort of mixed. I will admit, with regard to the first, that I did not initially enjoy it. I mean, there were parts that I liked, good characters, hot characters, and some humor. It was only after about 5 or so consecutive episodes that I really got into this show, and I am now willing to admit that Gilmore Girls is one of (another category where the loss of Angel comes into play) the few remaining truly well written shows on TV. Loreli and Rory really do engage in almost Buffy-esque (I am referring to quality of references, delivery, analogym and speed) conversations occassionally. Michel is funny, even if he did at one point insult pug dogs, and Kirk is often laugh out loud hilarious. The season ending didn't seem especially monumental to me, but I am looking forward to the inevitable hookup of Lorelai and Luke and whatever is to come with Rory and either the greasy worthless stuck up indie dirtball who would be better if written off the show entirely, and the not wonderful, but at least more attractive and somewhat unannoying adulterer from back in Stars Hollow. I would have been happier if there was at least a significant plot twist which occured at the very end, something beside Rory getting it from a married man. Also, for the record AJ, Lorelai is hotter, pervert. Tuesdays other program goes back and forth with me, occassionally being really fucking painful, and sometimes rocking. I think the problem is that I missed an episode which was supposed to critically influence my initial perceptions of one of the starring characters of One Tree Hill. I like Brooke, she is funny and cute and skanky, though apparently also evil. The fact that I don't really understand her malice has made it hard for me to jive along with certain elements of the show. Anyway, for something which has so many awful premises and lame plotlines, I will admit that One Tree Hill was a surprisingly decent new show this season.
I intended to post this last night, during the first quarter of the Wolves' game. It was then, however, that the giant fucking thunderstorms in the Buffalo area conspired to fuck me up the butt. Basically, my power went out and stayed that way for at least 10 or so minutes. When I decided that it was not an "any minute now" situation for the return of the power I called Katie to do a quick monetary check-up and then headed out to somewhere to watch the Wolves trounce the motherfucking Lake-show. I hate the fucking lakers, more and more everyday. I hate Lakers fans I hate Lakers press I hate the city of Los Angeles. I have never been there, I have never met a Lakers fan, but I want them all to get run over by a large collection of busses. While thats not a statement I want to stick with, I really do want to see us beat these jackasses. I know we are going to give them a much better run than Sir Charles "I Can Form as Many Complicated Sentences As I Won NBA Championships" Barkley or the L(ick)A(ss) press, but I really want to send all four of those future hall of fame motherfuckers home early. Especially the mailman. I have never liked Karl Malone, I have always thought he was a dirty two-faced little whore and will continue to be pleased if he does not win a championship. Even if we were to, god forbid, make it to the finals and lose 4 games to an Eastern Conference team, at least the Lakers wouldn't get a chance. Oot.
Peace,
MB-K
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