Of A Decade
Tuesday. Alright. I understand that network television has gone to places I'm not able to follow now having watched the second episode of Samantha Who? last night. Nothing wrong with the writing, Pamie's on a roll, but, my god, the advertisements, the pace, these fucking ask your doctor about this new wonder drug ads! Actually the wonder drug ads are surreal to the point of fascinating. I would expect ads like these to be broadcast twenty-four seven in hell, yes, but a hell where you show up and absolutely know you're dead, dead after living what you now realize was the life of a not very good person and you've gone to that other place they talked about that turns out to be worse than you can possibly imagine where drug companies at high volume sell you prescriptions with forty-seven thousand side effects all of which are listed at twice the speed of sound, all of them nastier than, well, hell. Reality strikes, in other words, but strikes on this other side of the line reality where you don't know the rules because you haven't been to church since your were six and your parents dragged you there like a little zombie in denial and you don't remember a word that was said.
I take it you haven't watched much network television in a while?
This was Ally McBeal on steroids, which is good, because I really liked Ally McBeal, but wow! Times have changed and the writers now have to put a half hour narrative into ten minutes to allow for the ads. Did I mention the ads? Ah, yes. I believe I did. I'm sure the series will be popular, we are flogging Pamie's sitcom here, but I think the world has passed me by in the blink of a decade.