It's a remarkable thing, the written word. Isn't it amazing andwonderful that man has created symbols that represent sounds,thereby allowing others to process their meanings and be overcomeby strong emotion? Observe: I hate Seinfeld.
This is true. And I would bet a hefty sum of money, now thatyou've read these three measly groupings of symbols, that youpersonally want to step on my face.
I watch the show frequently and have tried countless times forcountless people to "give it a chance," but I quickly becomedisenchanted. I have heard countless speeches about how Seinfeld isthe icing that makes the cake of life sweet, that it has paved thesacred road for the Ghost of Sitcoms Yet to Come, and if I don'tthink so, I am a lowly, uncultured, toad-faced moron void ofcountless brain cells.
Don't get me wrong. I do find the situations funny and it wouldnot be as painful an experience if there were a character that Iliked. However, I find each equally but diversely repulsive, and Ifind myself maniacally chuckling at their misfortune. This isn'thow I want to feel after I watch a sitcom. If I wanted to spend mytime watching miserable people endure what they have coming tothem, I would be a very strong supporter of a version of AmericanIdol in which the contestants and the judges play Russianroulette.
I recently had this conversation with some friends, one of whomcondemned me and asked which sitcoms I considered "good." I sat,unable to think of even one that I go out of my way to watch. Butwhen I extended my options to include old, truly good sitcoms whichare no longer being aired, they flowed like ketchup on a goodday.
Children of the '80s and '90s grew up with ALF, Mr. Belvedereand Punky Brewster. We idolized Charles, for he was in charge, anddespised Winnie Cooper, for she was a conniving little snot. And weall knew what Camp Anawana made Bobby Budnick want to do when hethought about it. We have brain cells dedicated to thisinformation. And for what? So that we can all get together and sitaround a table eating tortilla chips seasoned only by the salt ofour own tears saying, "Do you remember Welcome Freshmen? Gosh...that was a great show"?
There are two conclusions we can make from this phenomenon.First, we could deduce that when we were young we were more easilyentertained and less picky about the things that we watched (let'sface it, pretty much as long as the TV was on, we were fine). Or wecould conclude that TV programming has gone severely downhill, onlysupporting mediocre shows that many will tolerate but few willlove.
Believe what you will, I think we need to bring these shows backor, in the interest of progressivism, create new shows with theappeal of the shows of old. Coincidentally, I have an idea forone.
Four young adults, bitter about the lack of TV shows that theyloved as children, live in a big city and see each other every day.Horrible things happen to them, and the studio audience laughs.
Wait. This sounds familiar.
Write to Aleshia at
aahaselden@bsu.edu
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