Current State of Television

TV today sucks. Like, it's seriously awful. I realize that I'm not breaking any new ground here with this revelation, but after I watched a brief excerpt of Hot in Cleveland today, it became apparent that NOT writing an entry about this would be criminal.

When ISN'T Betty White topical?

 In this current state of television we find ourselves in, I've split TV into two categories for my own viewing pleasure. "Pretty good" and "Good god, this is really, REALLY bad! Do people honestly watch this, no less are entertained by this? Like seriously. What the hell." Want to guess which list is longer? I'd tell you, but I really don't want to type that again.

Okay, simple enough, right? Watch the good ones and just ignore the rest. That's what most good-natured, civil folks would do, just ignore the negative things that don't really effect you and carry on with your life. But alas, I'm a blogger.

First off, I'd love to touch on reality television; I absolutely cannot stand the genre: American Idol (which has for the 6th year in a row topped Nielsen ratings), Teen Mom, that show about the douchebags who tan a lot... But what's the fun in shooting at the crap covered barn already riddled with bullet holes when I can snipe the Emmy off the picket fence a mile away? I mean sitcoms. Great analogy, right? Just call me Clever Sniper Blogger Marty. Please don't call me that.

Sitcoms, I have you figured out. Sure, I'll sit down and enjoy you every Thursday night on NBC instead of writing my blogs for AP Lang, and we might have a few laughs along the way, but don't think for a second I don't know how you work. After careful research (read: I watch a lot of TV), I have carefully broke down what I believe to have deduced as three tried and true elements to a successful sitcom.




1. Stupid, Unattractive Husband - Hot, Charming Wife
Why is this apparently essential to the average sitcom? Much like Newton's Laws of Motion, I really have no sure explanation; just indisputable evidence. My theory? Stupid, unattractive men make up a large portion of America's sitcom watching populace, and look towards their more successful, more fictional bretheren for inspiration.

Waiting for the apple to hit you in the head?

The Simpsons

Still Standing

According To Jim

King of Queens

Family Guy

2. The Contradiction Joke
Maybe you've never realized this, most haven't, but quite possible over half of all sitcom jokes follow one basic formula. I have dubbed it "The Contradiction Joke", and after I point this out I promise you will never find a sitcom as funny as you did before you read this. Probably not, but it's nice to assert my self-proclaimed influence.
This joke usually involves one character saying something, and then either another character says something to contradict him, or something happens that contradicts what was just said. Sounds hilarious, right?

Lame example to illustrate my point:


Person 1: Are you sure you're smart enough to __________? This is a lot of responsibility!
Person 2: Oh yeah, of course! You have nothing to worry about!
Person 3: Person 2, why is there a fork in the electric socket again!?
*laugh track*

Seriously. Watch a sitcom and keep this in mind. You'll be amazed.







3. Cutting Corners
Sitcom writers are notoriously lazy, perhaps most infamously for leaving massive plot holes unfilled, or rushing extremely brief conclusions to elaborately developed stories.




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FOX, I'll be sending in my resume.

Caring Too Much: An Affliction

As I begin this post, I currently have 0 blog entries completed. Zero. I have not even completed a fraction of the posts I'm to complete by midterm, instead my blog is home to a methodically constructed layout, complete with over-thought title and artsy notebook backdrop to perhaps suggest "I don't really care, writing is more of a hobby..more a passion than a grade".

The first assumption would be that I'm lazy. That would be a safe choice. I am pretty lazy; very lazy, even. Well versed in procrastination, the last minute and I are well acquainted. It seems most all of my day after coming home from football is spent doing absolutely nothing. There's nothing on TV, there's nothing in the fridge, there's nothing in my text inbox... yet I'm perfectly content basking in this mediocrity for the majority of my day. Maybe it's more appropriate to say, all of my day, because it's not usually until the most inane hour of night that I actually open up my backpack and let the obligation and responsibility spill out.

The second assumption would be that I'm stupid. The odds on that one probably aren't too bad either. Anyone who has watched me tend to my day-to-days know that I am as prone as any to looking like a dumbass at times. Today I fell down the stairs when I woke up because my dress socks were too slippery. Maybe I'm just not intelligent enough to do finish my work. (post-publication note: the error in the last sentence was pointed out to me but I felt retaining it was appropriate in context)

Nope. Clearly only a brilliant mind like me could find a way to attribute a total lack of productivity to a set of unrealistic standards I set for myself, almost narcissistic-level self-involvement, caring too much. I should point out to those who aren't sure, by the time I finish writing this my tongue should have punched a gaping hole in my cheek... but they say every joke has a hidden truth.

Saved in my drafts folder as of now are 4 different blog entries of which I've yet to complete. Not a few sentences here and there, some cutesy ideas I've yet to follow through on, but largely full-fledged essays in which I've invested ridiculous amounts of time. Why have I yet to publish them? Because my delicate ego is so wrapped in my own writing that I can't bring myself to post anything for fear of not being clever, witty or perceptive enough. Clearly this is not a cause that warrants sympathy, but I think acknowledgement is the first step in healing. Also, having typed all of this, I can now point to this self-deprecating laden entry as justification for whatever entries I don't feel support the weight of my fragile, heavy, psyche.

Also, I guess I'm sort of lazy.