Nov 01
AndrewTelevision Cartoons, Fox, Television
Out with the old and keeping the (relatively) new. After 13 seasons, King of the Hill won’t be back. Fox has ordered a last round of 13 new episodes to air at some as-yet-undetermined time during the 2009-2010 season. King of the Hill followed the blue-collar Texas family the Hills on various red neck adventures (though the Hills were in fact remarkably enlightened compared to most of Texas.)
King of the Hill was spawned by Mike Judge and Greg Daniels, the former who is probably more famous for bringing Beavis and Butt-head to life on MTV, and even more famous for the 1999 cult film Office Space. Judge also voices the characters Hank Hill and Boomhauer on the show. Kathy Najimy and Brittney Murphy are the other well-known voices in the cast.
Fox inexplicably ordered another season of American Dad. That show is has something to do with a functionally retarded CIA agent, an alien, his inept family and a talking fish. The formula is retread, dumb dad does stupid shit, family goes along with it or not. It’s not funny. But only 5 seasons old, American Dad must seem like a busty coed compared to King of the Hill.
Both shows have been part of Fox’s Sunday night Animation Domination line-up anchored by the Simpsons.
Aug 25
AndrewSociety and Culture, Television ANTM, Football, Television
The unofficial marker of autumn is upon us with the start of the next season of Monday Night Football (the Monday after Labor Day), the start of a new semester of classes, and another birthday. Of course, fall is also the start of a new television season, after enduring so much new summer filler they threw at us on television.
I don’t watch much television, most of it seriously sucks, but there is room for America’s Next Top Model and a couple hours worth of Project Runway reruns every week. Kathy Griffin is a riot, so is Family Guy and both never fail to lighten my mood when I need a TV break. Most of my TV time is reserved for the Red Sox and anything related to pro football. That’s my ritual Sunday for the fall (and Monday night, and Thursdays when I can find someone who actually gets the NFL network).
But for the most part, I am no longer sucked in by medical dramas, supernatural mysteries (unless you count the popularity of Monk) politically correct sitcoms and How I Met Your Mother. Some of it is better written than the rest, but none of it drags me in front the TV the way Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Friends and early episodes of CSI used to.
Maybe it’s because a television habit is not a compatible activity without just about any other productive use of my time. Nothing drains away my mental capacity like Next. It’s not even the visual menagerie that distracts me so much as the constant audio stream. It’s amazing that I long ago learned to tune out commercials (even as I watch them, I have no idea what they are advertising) but the shows themselves still wrest away my attention.
I realize our addiction to TV is piled on years of conditioning. It’s my babysitter, my best friend and occasionally, my lover. It has been with me through all the ups and downs of my life and somehow, never passes judgment on…okay, I can’t keep that up anymore. But you know where I was going with it.
Fall itself is a product of the same rigorous conditioning. Even people who no longer live on the academic cycle from September to May have the imprint of twelves years or more of moving to the tune of the school year. It’s ingrained in many of us from an early age. The best television starts in the fall. Summer is for vacations, for camping and long weekends and day trips. Autumn is for buckling down and relearning all the good habits that were so easily forgotten for the three months when the sun shined. Winter is the darkness, and spring the revival. Even when all those patterns of behavior are striped away, we still think of the start of fall as a substantial indicator of promise, the least of which is there might be something worth watching on TV.
While I’m damn excited about the next season of Top Model, it’s the promise of another season of football that has me restless and buzzing with eagerness. Sure the Pats might have to rely on a back-up quarterback (pick one, the result will be the same) the Jets are riding Brett Favre until he drops, and Pennington is with Dolphins? Apparently, they are comfortable bottom dwelling for another year. But, fuck Lost, that’s all the drama I need to make my fall a special one.
Jul 16
AndrewTelevision Television
I turned on the TV at an earlier than usual time for me of 5:20 a.m. to an scene of a young man telling his father “If me kissing a man disgusts you…” Dad then says, I’m sure I got this right, “I didn’t ask for a gay son. But I have one.” I think I’m supposed to be touched, but I’m mildly offended. The son, Jack as it turns out, falls into the corner weeping while his dad lovingly embraces him.
Is Jack wearing eyeliner?
It turns out, inexplicably, that the show is Dawson’s Creek and it’s clearly some season finale because Pacey and Joey cruise off into the sunset, literally. (Season 3 if you’re keeping track.)
There’s not a ton of choice at this hour. I flipped to a Bowflex infomercial where seven buffed up guys and girls were standing around the Bowflex admiring the abs of the guy demonstrating exercises. The ad gives me the same creepy feeling that I get from ads for Swingtown on CBS. It’s a my-parents-are-getting-dirty kind of dirty.
Infomercials as a general rule, have infinite appeal and a unique ability to suck away the hours. I don’t buy anything; I rarely see a product that calls out to me. But the demonstrations; that is another story altogether. Just like I am fascinated that people don’t take advantage of online access to their bank accounts, I don’t understand what kind of mentality you have to have to shop for things from your television. I’m the wrong demographic, which I’m sure is a huge part of the misunderstanding.
I watch that same damn woman turn soup into an omelet almost once a week (somehow, it’s always the damn soup she’s making when I stumble on to that one.) I don’t know what the product is called and I can’t imagine wanting to eat soup with a fork and knife like a steak. But watching her make it, that’s the money shot right there.
ESPN, my usual morning report, always has the retread news from the night before. Normally, I can just watch commercials for ESPN and be fully satisfied like after a fine breakfast at IHOP, but this is All-star week. No baseball, no football, no basketball and Tiger Woods is injured, not a great sports week. I love the Brett Favre drama, but you can only play the angle so many times before it ceases to be newsworthy. That leaves the endless homage to Yankee Stadium, which less face it, nobody is making the same fuss over Shea Stadium, except maybe the state of New Jersey.
I went to Flushing, NY to see Shea Stadium, and I can tell you, it’s time. RIP Shea.
It’s now twenty-five minutes later, and I just gave up. Dawson’s Creek ended and was replaced by an unwatchable sitcom. Maybe a early morning spot on TBS is considered prime time for an off-the-air teen drama like Dawson’s. It’s not like there is a ton of competition drawing away viewers (viewer?) Instead I went online to watch Dr. Horrible to see what all the fuss is about. It’s typical Whedon.
Tomorrow, I’ll just try to get the extra 25 minutes of sleep.
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