Television Mea Culpa: I Like Bad TV

I fell that that time it is the right time in my life to admit some of the wrongs that I have committed. I'm not talking about anything so serious as hooker stabbing or puppy eating. No, I'm here to admit that I watch some really terrible TV. However, by making my admission in a public forum, I think that I can probably avoid some of the embarassment that would occur should anyone find out my secret shame at a socially akward time.

The O.C.

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I'm really only partially ashamed by the actualy content of the show. Yes, it's stupid, melodramatic, and totally unrealistic, but I stand firmly by my opinion that the writing is pretty good and the characters are compelling. I never would have thought that I could care less about Ryan's problems or be genuinely concerned about the state of Seth's relationship, but here I am. Not to mention the fact that Sandy Cohen may be the best TV dad ever. No, the real reason that I feel so guilty about watching The O.C. is the apparent association I have to all the other people out there that watch it. Because I watch it, people think I'm a giggling, ugg-clad sorority girl, a douchebag popped-collar-and-livestrong-bracelet-wearing tool who wants to bone said sorority girl, or a teeny-bopper who watches the show because it makes her feel like a grown up who wants to be boned by said popped-collar tool. I am none of these people, thank sweet, merciful christ. I shit you not, there is a guy in one of my classes who craps all over himself for The O.C. He reads the message boards. He joins fan communities. He buys autographed merchandise, and hunted down Rachel Bilson to sign it when she was in Madison for God knows why. I feel guilty for watching The O.C. not because it is a bad show, but because it connects me in even the most insignificant way to this person who is my natural sworn enemy. I am the mongoose, he is the cobra. It's natural like that.

Sports Disasters

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Now you'd think that The Learning Channel would try to put on some programming that, you know, one might learn from. The only thing worth learning from TLC's Sports Disasters is just how awesome it looks when an F1 car hits the wall at 200+ miles per hour, or what happens when a guy bungee-jumping gives himself too much rope. Isn't this the kind of thing we've come to expect from Fox, or at the very least FX, and not that bastion of educational TV that is The Learning Channel? I am also ashamed to watch this show because normally I'm the guy who complains that programming like this is designed for people desperately trying to rub two brain cells together to comprehend their entertainment. I apparently like watching things blow up too. Have solidarity, my easily amused brothers.

My Super Sweet 16

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There is no way in hell that I can make any sort of justification for ever viewing this show. Watching spoiled teenagers get everything they want and throw fits if they don't (waa, my Lexus is the wrong color, waa!) seems to have the same kind of appeal as slowing down to look at a particularly gory car wreck. Of course, I'm prone to like anything that can whip me into a fury of righteous anger, so I guess My Super Sweet 16 should be right up my alley. I especially liked the one where the fat, effeminate black dude having the fashion show party hired a security company so inept they wouldn't let his guests in. Take that, rich people.

The War at Home

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My watching of this piss-poor ripoff of All in the Family can be blamed completely on Fox's nefarious scheduling powers. I will watch anything crammed between The Simpsons and Family Guy, simply because I'm too lazy to get up and find something to do for half an hour. Is there anything particularly funny about Michael Rappaport hitting his kids and being afraid of black people? Well, in concept, yes, but in execution, good god no. It's all in that magical timeslot, which begs the question, why the fuck didn't Fox put Arrested Development there? Maybe then we could see something better than the slutty yet oddly unattractive daughter tarting up my TV box.

America's Next Top Model

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The fact that I watch America's Next Top Model is truly embarrassing because I do so with unabashed joy and not the slightest sense of irony. I just really like the show. At the very least, it gives a very compelling reason why one would not date a model despite all of the seemingly obvious pros inherent in doing so. If they took out all the titty-blurring, it would be the number one show on TV, hands down. The only problem with ANTM (that's right, I'm abbreviating, you wanna fight about it?) is fucking Tyra Banks, antichrist incarnate. There's just something in the way she talks that makes me a little bit crazy. When she hands out the photos at the end of each episode to see who stays in, she repeats the same sentences over, and over, and over again. "Congratulations. You are still in the running to become America's Next Top Model". She says it with every other fucking person she eliminates. If that irritates me so much, I'd probably have a damn aneurism watching her talk show.

Any list show, anywhere, ever

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I can't help it. Any time I hear "The top 100 blankiest blanks", I watch it. There's nothing I can do. It could be the top ten elderly celebrity colonoscopy photos, and I'd watch it. I'm powerless. I once sat through all five hours of The Top 100 Awesomely Bad Songs. Straight through. I'm convinced it's a disease. VH1 causes the brunt of my suffering in this regard, but I've been known to stoop so low as to watch E! in persuit of ordered numeral entertainment joy.

There. The air is cleared. I have made my admissions about my terrible TV habits, and I feel like a great burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I'm sure I have lost much respect from my adoring public (ha!), but in all seriousness, get out there and watch some bad TV. You might like it. But don't watch TV that's too bad, lest you damage your precious brain. If you've seen Taradise, you know exactly what I'm talking about, and you know exactly why I will be inserting this power drill into my frontal lobe. Don't let it happen to you.